#its fine. its good. its entertaining to say the least

[nyxofdemons]

four years for this show...

[frostedturquoise]

In other news heres a flip the coin game: Is it a new fandom interest or did i think too hard about a funny pairing dynamic so it is kicking around in my brain for longer than expected (on top of spending over three weeks between being amused by the inclusion of historical mythology a kid i used to babysit was obsessed with combined with mentally lamenting over 'of COURSE they made him a blonde white guy, its anime why did i expect better') or wind up thinking about something else related to it a tiny bit too hard.

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[justwinginglife]

hello hello Hannah! Hope you’re having a great timezone!

So I read your fic for Jinshi since I finally started watching Apothecary Diaries the show has a tight grip on me now and I was wondering if maybe you could do something for Jinshi again if you feel up for it?

Can be whatever you want, full fic, head canons (although my one request would be to ask if it could be smut?) even that if you don’t feel like it then fluff is perfect too.

Thank you if you do and no worries if you don’t want to!

Helloooooo! I'm so happy you've discovered Apothecary Diaries! I apologize in advance, I know this was supposed to be smut, but I had too many good laughs writing this and it ended up lowkey being comedic material lmao. I love Jinshi. Anyway, thanks for the request, and welcome to the Apothecary Diaries fandom!

NSFW Warning

The Missing Piece

He had a dick.

He had a dick, he had a dick, he had a dick. Oh fuck, Jinshi had a dick. He wasn’t supposed to have a dick. But he had one. He had one and it was very big and it was very hard and it was pushing up against your butt at this very moment. You’d tripped and he’d caught you -at the cost of his secret- and now you were both planted firmly on the ground, one with a raging boner and one with a soaked cunt. And, GOD, was it embarrassing. You’d never once questioned that he was a eunuch, even with all of his flirting and flouncing around, but now you were very much aware that he was not, in fact, a eunuch AT ALL. 

You quickly pulled yourself off of him, cheeks flushed and underwear stained. You hurriedly excused yourself, spitting out a quick thanks for him breaking your fall, and then booked it the fuck out of there. You could hear him laughing behind you, but you paid no mind. You were too busy overthinking every encounter you’d ever had with him. All the times you’d poked fun at his lack of a member. All the times you’d whispered innuendos into his ear, teasing him with what you knew he couldn’t have. And now you’d been one cloth away from reaching home base with him after one stupid fall. And your stupid body had the stupid nerve to be soaked. 

If you could’ve avoided him for the rest of your life, you would’ve. Alas, a week was the best you could do, and even that was pushing it. In the rear palace, Jinshi was in control of anything and everything, and it was near impossible for anyone, least of all you (he liked to keep you close in particular) to take a step without him knowing about it. You could only plant so many obstacles to keep him busy, but you knew eventually he’d find you. Besides the fact that you were his closest confidant and most useful informant, reporting on all happenings within the palace as one of its court ladies (ranking high enough to have access, but low enough to be virtually invisible), you were also just his favorite form of entertainment and he’d damn near lose his mind if he didn’t have your company to cure his boredom. So it was only a matter of time until he caught up to you; the only real question was, when he finally caught you, did you ignore the massive elephant in the room or did you poke it with a stick? 

“You know I pay you to report to me, right? And I’ve not had a report for almost a week now. Wonder why that is.” A voice chimed out from behind you and you could almost hear his smirk. He was having too much fun with this situation. 

Your brow twitched. So the bastard was going to be smug about this? Fine. If he was relishing in the discomfort this was causing you, you might as well even the score. You plastered on a faux smile and turned to face him, giving him an obligatory curtsy. “Jinshi, to what do I owe the grand pleasure of your presence?”

He chuckled, amused at your fake show of manners. “Drop the formalities. It’s just us. You can speak freely.”

“You have a dick.” There. Now you were both uncomfortable. 

He choked on his own spit. He did say you could speak freely but you never failed to surprise him with just how freely you spoke. “...I suppose I can’t convince you it was nothing more than just my tunic bunching up?”

You snorted. “Jinshi, does your tunic have a tip? And does that tunic’s tip pulse?”

He let out a short laugh. “It appears I’m caught. Alright, I concede. I have a dick.”

You blinked. You hadn’t expected him to outright admit it. You’d expected to dance in circles with him, make him sweat a little, before finally wringing the confession from his throat. 

He could tell you were struggling with his sudden admission. It made him grin. “And before you ask, yes, I’ve had it since birth. I didn’t just glue it on.”

“Well, duh!” You spit out. What, now he had jokes?? Didn’t he know this was the stupidest thing to be joking about?? God, he drove you crazy. 

He seemed to be enjoying your reactions. He took a step closer to you. “Wanna touch it? Confirm its existence?” He teased.

If he wasn’t the most high ranking official here, you would’ve slapped him. You gave him a pinched smile. “Sure. I’ll touch it with my shoe, just let me wind up real quick-”

His eyes widened. “Wait, wait, wait! That’s not what I meant.”

Your brow twitched again. “Oh, I know what you meant.” PERVERT. You didn’t say it but he knew you were thinking it. 

He exhaled. “Okay, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. I’m just messing with you. How about we both just go back to the way things were before you found out? Yeah?” 

You wanted nothing more than to do that. Buuuut…. You couldn’t. How were you supposed to go back to falling asleep at his desk when you were too lazy to go back to your room, after a daily report turned into a lengthy strategy session? How were you supposed to go back to ripping the blankets off of him after he’d overslept and tugging at his clothes to try and change him yourself? How were you supposed to not overthink every time that he touched you, wondering if maybe he wanted to touch you longer, to touch you lower? 

You bit your lip. Did you even mind when he touched you? It’d never been an issue before. He was always fidgeting, always needing to play with your pinky under the table at a meeting, or needing to tug at your bracelet while he poured over paperwork, or needing to nudge your foot with his, and you never minded before, but would you mind now? Would you mind if he wanted to touch you differently, if he wanted to touch you urgently? Your cheeks began to grow warm. How had you never seen how you’d felt about him until he suddenly had a dick? Were you that shallow? God, you hoped not. Of course, you’d always thought he was attractive objectively (though you’d never tell him or he’d gloat for ages), and his company was at times pleasant to enjoy (and you’d never tell him this either or he’d never leave you alone), but maybe you’d never seen him as a love interest before because he wasn’t someone you could settle down and start a family with. But now, what if he was?

And it didn’t help that he wasn’t taking this seriously. He was teasing, he was taunting, he was downright torturous. It seriously made you want to slap him.

But right now, he was looking at you like you held the world in your hands. Like his world might collapse if you didn’t agree to going back to what you were before. Like he might lose something precious to him if you didn’t. And you didn’t want to overestimate your own worth to him; after all, you might just be a useful pair of eyes to him at the end of the day, but the way he was looking at you now made you feel like something to him, even if it was barely something. Did you want to be something to him?

He broke the silence. “You’re not going to ignore me for another week, are you? Please don’t, I can’t take it.”

God, he couldn’t just say stuff like this. It made you want to kiss him and stay by his side forever. “I won’t.” You said finally.

He exhaled. Then he grinned. “Good, cuz I need my favorite plaything.”

Oh, this asshole. “You know what? I’ll touch it.”

His smile dropped from his face. “Wh-what?”

You smirked, stepping dangerously close. “You asked me earlier if I wanted to touch it, right? Sure. Let me cop a feel.”

He swallowed and backed up a few steps. “I was j-joking. I wasn’t serious…”

“Oh come on. Pretty face like yours. I’m sure you must’ve done it tons of times before; it’s not like this is anything new to you. And you must be pretty pent up, working in the rear palace. I’m sure you need to let off some steam, right?” You purred, trapping him against the wall with your next few steps. 

His eyes widened when his back hit the wall.

You almost wanted to stop, you weren’t even sure where you’d found the nerve, but it was like he’d lit a fire within you and it was too late to back out now. “Jinshi…” You murmured, before trailing a hand up his thigh. 

“Wait! I’m a vir-” Your hand trailed up his length and brushed across his tip. In an instant, the front of his tunic was soaked. He slid down the wall, gasping for breath as he collapsed on the ground. “gin…” He finished through panted breaths, head arching back to rest on the wall as he rode out his orgasm. It wasn’t like he’d never touched himself before, but you touching him was something completely different. 

You pulled away suddenly. “You’re a what??”

He laughed, half exhausted and half ashamed. “Caught me. I’m a virgin.”

Oh shit. You dropped to your knees in front of him, and bowed low to the ground. “I’m so sorry! I was only teasing, I didn’t know you were a virgin. And I sure as hell didn’t think you’d…you know…” 

“Come on my clothes?” He offered weakly. 

Your cheeks filled with crimson. “Yeah. So did I… I mean was that your first… did I take your…?” You swallowed, completely unable to finish your sentence.

He laughed again and you were glad he could laugh because you certainly couldn’t. “I hardly think brushing across it counted as my first time. At least, I’m not counting it. So you didn’t take anything. And it’s not like I haven’t touched myself before, you know.”

You scrunched up your nose. “Ew- okay, I did not need to know that.”

He grinned and leaned in close to your ear. “In fact… I’ve done it a couple times to you.”

Your breath hitched. 

A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Don’t think you’re the only one who can play the teasing game. I bet you wanna know what it’s like when I’m touching myself to you, yeah?”

Before you could protest (you weren’t sure how you’d protest anyway; it was suddenly very hot in here and your throat was suddenly very dry), he had his cock in his hand, precum drizzling over his fingers, mixing with his previous messy release. If you hadn’t just seen him come a minute ago, you would’ve thought he’d never gotten off a day in his life, with how painfully swollen it looked, veins engorged along his rigid length. 

Your previous assessment of him from the few seconds you’d spent in his lap turned out to be completely correct. He was huge. And you were drooling. Without even realizing it, you’d reached a finger out to dance over his tip. He hissed and bit down on his lip to keep from coming again.

“You’re such a tease,” He groaned. 

Before you could pull away, he seized your wrist and pulled you into his lap. You landed exactly where he wanted and exactly where you hoped you wouldn’t. But there was no denying how good it felt. Especially when he began to thrust his hips upwards to meet you with delicious friction. 

You let out an involuntary moan.

He inhaled sharply. “God, the sounds you make…” His hands found your hips, holding you tightly in place, like he thought you might try to make another escape before he could get off again. You wouldn’t, not this time. Not now that you knew how good he felt.

You matched his rhythm, grinding against his erection in a similar fashion. 

His eyes widened when he realized you were giving in to him. “Fuck…” He pulled you in for a kiss. It was sloppy at first, desperate. Too much tongue and then too much teeth, like he didn’t know how much time he had before you wanted to stop. When you wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing against his lips, and settling yourself closer to him, he finally relaxed, realizing you wanted this just as bad as he did. 

His lips trailed a bruising path down your neck, painting his desire for you in pinks and purples across your skin. 

“Jinshi…” You murmured, arching your head back in pleasure. 

“I don’t think…” He pressed another hungry kiss to your collarbone, “My name has ever sounded so good…”

When his hands began to undress you as his kisses made their way lower and lower on your body, you finally stopped him. “Wait, wait.”

His brows furrowed. “What is it? Change your mind?” 

You shook your head quickly. “It’s just… do you really want your first time to be with me?”

His gaze softened when he realized what your concern was. “And why wouldn’t I want it with you?”

“Don’t people usually save their first time for someone special?”

“They do. So I guess I’m in the clear.”

“I-what?”

“You are someone special-” His lips found the curves of your breast and you shivered, “-to me, you’re special. You’ve always been special.”

“Jinshi…” You whispered in awe. You’d hoped to be something to him, but you never would’ve dared to dream you’d be this. 

“If you want to stop, we can stop. But tell me now, or I won’t be able to hold myself back.” 

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging his head away from your chest. When he looked up at you in surprise, you pressed a deep kiss to his lips. “Do I look like I want to stop?” You gasped out.

He chuckled. “Whatever you say, princess.”

He laid you back on the floor, resting you on top of your discarded dress. For a moment, he just stared at you, taking in your beautiful, naked form beneath him.

“Don’t tell me you’re all talk.” You teased. 

He scoffed, but his eyes were sparkling with amusement. “Can’t I just look at a gorgeous woman for a moment?”

“Not if she’s naked and cold. Better warm me up quick, Jinshi, or I’ll find someone else to take my first time.”

His eyes widened. “Wait you… you’re a virgin?”

Your cheeks darkened. “Well, I’m about to not be a virgin in two seconds, so hurry it up please.”

You thought he’d laugh at you but all he could do was smile like a kid on Christmas. He smiled like you held the world in your hands and his heart right beside it. It made you want to kiss him. So you did. You pulled him towards you and buried him in your lips. And he lost himself in you, tongue finding yours eagerly, like he wouldn’t stop until he couldn’t tell your taste apart from his. You were so love drunk and sky high, you almost didn’t realize he was lining up to your entrance. 

But your lungs nearly collapsed when you felt him spear through your eager entrance.

You groaned, loudly. 

He stopped abruptly. “Did that hurt?” He started to pull back out.

“Don’t you dare.” You hissed, wrapping your legs around him tightly and yanking him back to you. 

He gasped as he sunk deeper into you, your cunt swallowing every hardened inch of him greedily. “Princess…” He whined and it nearly killed you.

His head rested on your chest as though he didn’t have the strength to both hold himself up and thrust into you at the same time. His thrusts were carefully measured, like he wasn’t sure how much you could handle. Like he wasn’t sure how much he could handle. 

“Jinshi, look at me.”

He lifted his head slightly, innocent eyes meeting yours. You’d never seen his eyes so pure before. So in love. It was like looking into your own eyes. Because you were sure you were looking at him the exact same way. 

“I can take it.”

He looked away.

“Jinshi. I’m serious, I can take it. I need you.”

His head whipped back up to you, eyes darkening as he took in your words. “You need it, huh? I suppose if you need it…” He spread your legs wider, and before you had a chance to breathe, he snapped his hips forward, driving himself balls deep inside you. You yelped and it only encouraged his speed. One of his hands braced itself on your hip, while his other hand reached up to intertwine with yours, pinning it to the ground. For how roughly he was fucking you, you found the gesture strangely romantic.

Sweat and arousal drizzled down your trembling legs as he continued his assault, and he took it as a sign of your satisfaction.

You could tell he was getting close, because he started murmuring the sweetest nothings to you as he pistoned in and out of your dripping cunt. 

“I… fuck… I love… I love you…fuck…” He panted as his pace quickened. 

“I love…you too…”

His eyes widened as though he hadn’t expected you to reciprocate. Suddenly he yanked his cock out of you and keeled over to the side, hips bucking wildly at the air as hot ropes of milky cum shot out of him in wild spurts, staining the ground. 

As he rode out his orgasm, you suddenly felt the urge to cover your mouth with your hand. He raised a curious brow at you. Then he heard your muffled laughter and his cheeks flushed red. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just… it’s awfully romantic that my love confession made you come.” You teased.

He pouted slightly but then a devilish look crossed his face. “I wouldn’t be so cruel to the person who holds your release in his hands. You still haven’t got off yet, right? I could just hover you on the edge of an orgasm all night.” To prove his point, he spit on two fingers and drove them deep inside you.

You inhaled sharply. “Jinshi!”

He smirked and curled his fingers, hitting your g-spot in a teasing manner before quickly withdrawing, opting to play with your clit instead. 

“Fuck!” You groaned, exasperated at the absence of his fingers.

He grinned deviously.

“I said all night, didn’t I?”

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

"I'm calling in sick tomorrow."

"Well, I hear your boss is exceedingly handsome and even kinder too, so I'm sure he can make an exception for his favorite employee."

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

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter @minasfwoopyponytail @ectopodl3 (just tagging you cuz we were talking about this fic)

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Phainon x Dragon-shifter!Reader

[1] [2]

Life in the palace was… tolerable. At least, that’s what you told yourself. The first few weeks were spent adjusting to the strange, lavish reality of your new circumstances. Gold-trimmed halls, velvets and silks, meals so decadent you almost forgot to glare at Phainon across the table. You weren’t a prisoner, not exactly, but you were watched.

By him.

Phainon made it clear, whether with a teasing smirk or an almost obsessive gaze, that you were his. Not the kingdom’s, not the king’s, his. And he seemed thoroughly entertained by every struggle you put up against it.

So when he invited, no, insisted that you accompany him to the royal gathering that evening, you scoffed.

"I’m not going." You flopped onto the ridiculously soft bed in your chambers, arms crossed. "Why would I want to be in a room full of self-important humans?"

Phainon leaned against the doorframe, watching you with that insufferable knowing look. "Because," he drawled, "it’s a grand event. Important figures, music, fine wine…" His lips curled as he added, "Gold."

Your ear twitched.

He noticed. Oh, he definitely noticed.

"Jewels," he continued, casually inspecting his glove. "Rare artifacts. The kind only royals and the wealthiest nobles possess." He stepped closer, voice dipping. "And if you come with me, you’ll have access to all of it."

A trap. A beautifully spun, shiny trap.

Damn him.

You grumbled but stood anyway. "Fine. But if I get bored, I’m stealing something."

Phainon’s smirk widened. "I’d expect nothing less."

The palace ballroom was a vision of excess. Chandeliers dripped with light, silk banners lined the high walls, and every noble present sparkled—adorned in the very things that made your dragon instincts itch.

You stood beside Phainon, dressed in finer clothes than you’d care to admit looked good on you. Your gaze wandered, catching sight of an elaborate golden goblet, a necklace encrusted with sapphires, the ridiculous amount of wealth these people hoarded.

"You’re staring" Phainon murmured, his breath warm near your ear.

You flicked your tail slightly (hidden, of course, beneath your elegant attire, sometimes there are moments when you lost control of this power). "I’m admiring. There’s a difference."

He chuckled, but before he could say anything else, a noblewoman suddenly stepped between you two, cutting him off.

"Your Highness" she greeted, her eyes bright with something too eager.

Phainon didn’t even blink.

"Move" he said with a smile—not the charming kind, but the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.

The noblewoman hesitated, flustered. "Do you—"

"I said move." His tone dropped, sharper this time.

The lady’s confidence faltered instantly. She swallowed, fear creeping into her delicate features before she quickly stepped aside, bowing slightly before scurrying away.

You arched a brow. "Really?"

Phainon turned back to you smoothly. "What? You were waiting for me."

You sighed, shaking your head. "Possessive much?"

He tilted his head, considering. "Yes." No shame, no hesitation.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire back, he leaned in, voice low enough that only you could hear.

"Now, tell me, little dragon…" He gestured subtly to the vast, glittering hall. "What shall I steal for you?"

You blinked at him.

Then, slowly, a smirk of your own formed.

Maybe this party wasn’t so bad after all.

The party continued in its extravagant splendor, but you had long since grown bored of the shallow conversations and glittering excess. You didn’t deny that the shiny things were a good distraction, but Phainon had been hovering around you like a wolf with its prize all night, scaring off anyone who so much as looked your way.

It was amusing at first—until you realized he was serious.

"Are you actually keeping people away on purpose?" you asked, sipping a wine so rich it made your head buzz pleasantly.

Phainon tilted his head as if contemplating it. "I wouldn’t say keeping away…" He trailed off before smirking. "More like… ensuring they know you’re spoken for."

You nearly choked. "Spoken for?"

His fingers grazed your wrist lightly, just enough to make you aware of the heat behind the touch. "It’s only fair. You took me from my home first, little dragon. Now, I’ve taken you from yours."

You scoffed. "That is not the same thing!"

He merely hummed, tilting his goblet to his lips.

Before you could argue further, one of the royal advisors cleared his throat from a short distance away. Phainon sighed, rubbing his temple as though he already regretted what was coming next.

"It appears my duties are calling" he muttered, sounding utterly unenthusiastic.

You smirked. "Oh no, the burden of royalty" you teased. "How tragic for you."

He cast you a dry look before leaning in slightly, voice dropping. "Behave while I’m gone, won’t you?"

"Depends." You grinned. "What’s in it for me?"

Phainon chuckled, his fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting touch before he straightened. "Later, little dragon" he murmured, his voice promising more than just words. Then, with an effortless grace, he strode away toward the cluster of waiting nobles.

You rolled your eyes, exhaling before deciding you needed a break.

The ballroom was getting stuffy, and the suffocating air of human politics wasn’t doing you any favors. So, you slipped out onto the grand balcony, the cool night breeze instantly refreshing.

Leaning against the railing, you stared at the sprawling royal gardens below, the torches casting golden light onto the neatly trimmed hedges. You let yourself breathe, letting go of the lingering heat from Phainon’s infuriatingly charming presence.

"You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself" a voice chimed in, lighthearted but not unkind.

You turned to see a young nobleman standing a short distance away, hands in his coat pockets, looking at you with casual curiosity.

Unlike the others at the party, his expression wasn’t filled with arrogance or ulterior motives—just simple friendliness.

"Not much for royal gatherings?" he asked, stepping closer.

You shrugged, glancing back at the stars. "Not much for being paraded around like a trophy" you admitted.

The nobleman chuckled. "Understandable. These events can be suffocating." He tilted his head. "I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Elias."

You hesitated for only a second before replying. "I know."

Elias blinked. "You… do?"

You smirked. "I make it a habit to know who’s hoarding all the gold in the kingdom."

He laughed, shaking his head. "And here I thought you were just admiring the view."

You leaned an elbow against the railing, giving him a mock-thoughtful look. "Well… you do seem to have an impressive collection of artifacts in your estate."

Elias arched a brow. "Are you implying you’ve been to my estate?"

You grinned, tilting your head slightly. "I’m not implying anything."

Before Elias could reply, a sudden cold presence crept up behind you.

Phainon.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Elias straightened slightly, suddenly looking far more aware of the prince’s looming presence. "Ah—Your Highness."

You sighed, tilting your head back toward Phainon. "That was fast. Did you threaten them all into silence?"

He didn’t take his eyes off Elias. "No. Unfortunately, they kept talking."

Elias cleared his throat. "I was merely keeping your companion entertained, Your Highness."

"How kind of you."

You stared at him. "Are you serious right now?"

Elias wisely took a step back. "Well. It was a pleasure speaking with you" he said smoothly before giving a polite nod and slipping away.

Phainon finally turned his attention to you.

You arched a brow. "Really?"

He smirked. "You looked too comfortable."

"And?"

"And I didn’t like it."

You scoffed. "Possessive much?"

He didn’t even hesitate. "Yes."

You sighed dramatically. "I can’t believe I let you lure me here with gold."

Phainon chuckled, brushing his fingers against your wrist before lifting your hand in his. His lips hovered just above your knuckles, his eyes locked onto yours.

"You walked into the trap willingly, little dragon."

Your heart gave a traitorous thud.

Damn him.

Damn him twice.

You yanked your hand back, turning toward the ballroom with an exaggerated huff. "If I’m stuck here, I expect more jewels."

Phainon’s laughter followed you inside, smooth and pleased. "Oh, don’t worry," he murmured. "You’ll have more than enough."

You weren’t sure whether that was a promise or a threat.

Maybe both.

And maybe… you didn’t mind either way.

-----

The battlefield was chaos.

Steel clashed, arrows darkened the sky, and the scent of blood mingled with the smoke rising from burning siege towers. You soared above it all, your massive wings casting a dark shadow over the fray.

War was ugly, but it was efficient. And you were very, very efficient.

With a single beat of your wings, you sent enemies flying. Your claws tore through siege weapons, your fire turned their defenses to ash. The battlefield trembled beneath your wrath, and you reveled in the destruction.

But your eyes were always watching him.

Phainon was a vision of carnage below. Blade flashing, movements precise, each strike calculated and lethal. He fought like he owned the battlefield, like it was just another ballroom and he was leading a deadly waltz.

He was infuriatingly reckless, of course. You had lost count of how many times you’d had to clear his back, burning down attackers before they could even get close to him.

And then, from your vantage point, you saw it before he did. A shadow moving too fast. A soldier—no, an assassin—emerging from the smoke, blade aimed straight for Phainon’s unguarded side.

You roared, diving down, but you were late.

The blade sank into Phainon’s side, his body jerking slightly from the impact. But instead of collapsing, he turned, his own sword flashing as he slit the attacker’s throat in one clean motion.

He staggered back, blood soaking into his armor.

Something snapped inside you.

With a furious snarl, you unleashed a wave of fire that devoured the remaining enemies in an instant, scorching the earth itself. Any who dared to stand in your way were reduced to nothing but ash.

Your wings flapped hard as you landed beside Phainon, shifting in the same breath. Your hands were on him before he could protest, gripping his arms, scanning him with narrowed eyes.

"You idiot!" you snapped. "Why didn’t you move?!"

He coughed, smirking even now. "You sound concerned" he rasped, clearly amused despite the pain.

"Of course I’m concerned!" You practically growled, your claws twitching with the urge to shake him. "You got stabbed!"

"Mm. Yes, that does appear to have happened."

You groaned, resisting the urge to strangle him. Instead, you yanked his arm over your shoulder, ignoring his wince as you lifted him effortlessly.

"Where are we going?" he asked, though he wasn’t resisting.

"To get you treated before you bleed out, you insufferable human." you gritted out.

He chuckled weakly, letting you carry him. "If I had known this would make you so attentive… I might’ve gotten stabbed sooner."

You almost dropped him. "Shut up."

Even half-conscious, Phainon still managed to smirk. "Make me."

You tightened your grip around him, and for once, he wisely stayed quiet.

----

Phainon woke up to silence.

That alone was unusual.

His body still ached, but the wound had been dressed and treated well, he could tell by the stiffness of the bandages and the faint scent of healing herbs. The last thing he remembered was you dragging him away from the battlefield, cursing his recklessness the entire time.

And now?

Now you were gone.

He sat up quickly, ignoring the dull ache in his side, his gaze sweeping the room. His weapons were still where he left them. His clothes had been neatly folded. Everything was intact.

Everything except you.

Did you—? No.

He refused to believe you had left him.

Had you taken the first opportunity to slip away? Had you waited for him to be weak so you could disappear without a word?

His fingers clenched into the sheets.

If you had left, he would find you.

He owned you. You had chosen to stay—he wouldn’t accept anything else.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to stand. His mind raced, trying to figure out where you could have gone. The palace? The outskirts? Back to your old life?

Not possible.

You wouldn’t leave without a trace.

Damn it.

He had to find you.

Meanwhile, you were completely unaware of the prince’s spiraling thoughts.

The market was lively, bustling with energy as you browsed through the various stalls. Gold and silk, rare spices, extravagant decorations—everything had to be perfect.

You didn’t normally go out of your way for things like this, but Phainon had survived, and whether you admitted it or not… you cared.

So, you spent the day preparing.

First, you checked on the grand hall, instructing the servants on where to place the banners and the candle-lit centerpieces. Then, you headed to the kitchens, where you spent far too long observing the palace chefs, much to their discomfort.

"That doesn’t look golden enough" you critiqued, frowning at a roasted pheasant.

The head chef looked exasperated. "It’s perfectly cooked—"

"More glaze. Shinier."

"…Shinier?"

"You heard me."

After terrorizing the kitchen staff, you went back to the market, picking out final decorations, taste-testing sweets (because of course you had to), and making sure everything was fit for a royal celebration.

The irony wasn’t lost on you.

You, a dragon, going through all this effort for a human prince.

What had your life become?

Still, you didn’t question it too much.

It was fun, in a way.

What wasn’t fun, however, was how somehow, despite being in the same general area multiple times, you and Phainon never crossed paths.

You passed through the halls minutes after he did. You left the kitchens just before he arrived. You ducked into a stall while he walked by.

Neither of you saw each other.

Which led to two very different outcomes:

You, feeling satisfied with your hard work and looking forward to seeing Phainon’s annoyingly smug reaction.

And him, spiraling into near madness, convinced you had abandoned him.

By the time Phainon returned to his chambers, his mood was dark.

He had searched the palace. The outskirts. The entire damn estate.

You were nowhere.

His fists clenched at his sides.

Then, he stepped into his room—

Candlelight flickered against gold-trimmed banners. The scent of roasted meats and spiced desserts lingered in the air. The table was set with a ridiculous amount of food, all plated to look as extravagant as possible.

And there you were, leaning against the table, arms crossed, looking very pleased with yourself.

"You’re late" you said flatly. "I went through all this trouble, and you almost missed it."

Phainon just stared.

His mind, which had spent the entire day convincing itself that you had left, refused to process this.

"You—" His voice caught, his fingers twitching at his sides. "Where have you been?"

You blinked. "What?"

"All day," he growled. "Where have you been all day?"

You frowned. "Preparing this, obviously."

His jaw clenched. "You-" He exhaled sharply, stepping forward, his body still tense. "Do you have any idea what I thought happened?"

You tilted your head, amused. "Let me guess—you assumed I left?"

You smirked. "And how did that make you feel, Your Highness?"

His grip on his gloves tightened. "Don’t push me."

You chuckled, stepping closer, placing a hand on his chest lightly, right over the wound that had caused all this in the first place. "I didn’t leave."

You leaned in, just enough to whisper, "I wouldn’t leave you that easily." His arms snapped around you, pulling you flush against him. You gasped, barely getting a second to react before he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in like he had lost you.

"Don’t do that again."

"What?"

"Don’t disappear on me. I’ll burn this entire kingdom to the ground if you leave."

"Noted."

For once, he didn’t smirk. He just held you.

The feast, the decorations, everything else faded.

All that mattered was this moment.

[traveler-at-heart]

You're ok

Summary: As you recover from a life threatening mission, Natasha struggles to be vulnerable.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Edit: The last part is a scene from The Diplomat's season 2. Highly recommend the show, as it also has our lovely Ali Ahn ( AKA Alice Wu)

Death is part of the job. You had always been prepared for it.

Failure and a slow recovery were things that you were less inclined to accept.

It was hard to deal with the fact you had been ambushed, and almost killed by a bomb in what was supposed to be an easy mission.

Two weeks after being confined to the sterile hospital walls you’re back at the Compound. Bucky offered to help, carrying your things and lending his arm as support.

You certainly didn’t expect the rest of the Avengers on the foyer, excited to greet you.

“Don’t make a fuss” you say, letting them hug you. Wanda rolls her eyes, taking your bag.

“It’s a miracle you’re alive. We’re gonna make a fuss”

“Just for today, let us make a big deal out of this” Steve says.

You had seen all of your teammates when they visited at the hospital, with one notable exception.

Said exception walks through the door, the hint of a smile on her beautiful face as your eyes meet green ones.

“Welcome back” Natasha says, her tone gentle.

“Thank you”

“Romanoff might like you, she almost smiled” Tony says, but you don’t pay him attention.

“That’s just because I thought you weren’t here” Natasha walks past him, squeezing your good arm as a silent goodbye. How you wish you could follow after her, ask why she didn’t even stop by once, but she’s hurrying out the room in record time, as if she can sense your intentions.

Truthfully, you won’t act on them. Natasha doesn’t owe you anything, not even a get well card.

“Let’s get you settled in your new room” Tony becons, and you frown.

“New room? What happened to the old one?”

“This one has some improvements. You’re gonna love it”

It’s evident he still feels guilty over what happened, though it was definitely not his fault that you almost got killed.

The new room has a mini fridge, a giant tv, a king size bed, and a small couch. It also has a huge bathtub, as well as an incredible view of the forest behind the Compound.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s… I’m perfectly fine going back to my old room”

“Can I have it if she doesn’t want it?” Sam intervenes, looking around the space.

“Come on, you’re gonna be using crutches for a while. You need a bigger space. And entertainment”

“It’s true” Steve says. “Of course we all want to be optimistic but…”

The doctors had said it would take at least six weeks to get you walking without aid. And then, you’d have to train and get back in shape. You are looking at two or three months of recovery.

It’s not that you dislike the bigger space or amenities. It’s the fact that Natasha was closer to you in the other room, and so you’d meet her most mornings as you’d step out to hit the gym or make breakfast.

Now, not only is she emotionally distant, she’s also physically away. And you don’t know which is worse.

“I’ll give it a try” you promise, though you know nothing will be better than your old room.

—

There are unexpected challenges that come with your injuries. Like cooking breakfast. Wanda is more than happy to help most days, but she’s been out for a mission the past week. You could have stuck to cereal, except Steve is always around by the time you wake up, and he insists on making your breakfast.

It’s a nice gesture, though the food is horrible.

You’ve spent the better part of your morning  playing with your eggs, considering eating cereal again, when someone places a cup of coffee and a paper bag next to you.

“I don’t know who told Steve he could cook” Natasha says with a smile.

“He means well” you answer, and wait for her to nod towards the bag to inspect its contents. Grilled cheese and a scone. Your mouth waters at the smell.

“You’re amazing, Natasha, honestly” you say between bites, moaning at the taste. “I can’t remember the last time I ate something this good. Except Wanda’s food, of course”

“Enjoy” she says, taking away the plate with eggs for you.

You were hoping to have her company while you eat, but maybe that’s too much to hope for.

—

At last, there’s something you can do. While everyone is busy with missions, you focus on reports and intelligence, which is perfect, because all you have to do is sit and read.

There are still deadlines and though no one wants to put pressure on you, you make sure nothing is delayed. As you keep reading in one of the conference rooms, the door is pushed open and you look up, alarmed at the sudden intrusion.

“Yes?” you say, pushing your glasses up, staring at Natasha. She turns around, struggling to speak.

“Y-you should be resting”

“I’m doing Bucky’s reports. You know how he is, he can’t type anything in the computer”

“It’s close to midnight. Have you even had dinner yet? I’m sure he won’t mind if you do them later”

“Nat. It’s fine, honestly” you say, smiling at her awkwardness. “I like to feel useful”

She nods, looking around the room, as if weighting her options. Moving away from the door, she walks and sits next to you, checking out some of the paperwork you’re reviewing

“Someone should have really taught James how to type” she mutters when she gets to the part where Bucky wrote target pulled out a cock instead of Glock.

You snort out a laugh, because it’s the dumbest fucking thing in the world.

“Ten bucks if you leave it like that” she insists and you shake your head.

“I considered it but then Tony wouldn’t know when to stop the teasing”

“Fair” she tilts her head, still smiling at you.

It’s obvious now that Natasha’s staying to make sure you go back to rest soon. So you enjoy the silence that comes with her presence, thinking this might be a step in the right direction.

But then, you stretch your arms above your head, forgetting about the stitches in your side until you feel a pull.

“Fuck” you bend over in pain, and Natasha is by your side in an instant. “It’s ok. I just stretched too hard. Forgot I still have a hole on my side”

Natasha’s hands hold on to the edge of the table, as if she’s struggling between storming out and staying.

“You should get some rest now” she manages to say, eyes not meeting your own.

“I’m fine”

Natasha gets ready to argue, but then reconsiders and just nods.

“I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight”

The redhead leaves the room in a hurry, and you wonder what could have possibly made her so upset.

For the next few days, you don’t see Natasha at all, and a part of you is certain she’s avoiding you.

As you lay in bed, watching a movie with Wanda, you keep going back to your interaction. Did you say something offensive? Was she simply too repulsed by weakness and didn’t know how to deal with it?

Is she avoiding me? Am I overthinking?

“She is and you are” Wanda says, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“But why… now wait a minute” you click your tongue, looking at your friend.

“I didn’t mean to, your thoughts are so loud. And so are Natasha’s. When you came back she was having a screaming match inside her head”

“What do you mean? What was she thinking?”

“No, that’s where I draw the line. If you want to know, ask her”

“If I ever see her again, sure” you mutter, though you know you lack the confidence to confront Natasha. Even if you had the chance, what’s there to say? "Hey, why are you making sure we only see each other when strictly necessary?"

She doesn’t like you, that’s the only explanation. Natasha is just being polite to keep appearances and the screaming inside her head was probably her thinking how much she wished you were still at the hospital.

Wanda snorts next to you, making you glare.

“Outta my head”

“Hey, I’m trying to watch the movie. You’re the one that needs to keep it quiet up there”

A few days later and you still have no idea how to approach Natasha. Mind you, she’s only been around the kitchen to get coffee once or twice, spending the rest of her time in missions or at the gym across the Compound.

The only time you’re not thinking about her is when the physical pain is distracting you. Like now, while changing your bandages. The doctors told you to get someone to help, but you already get help with food, laundry, even changing your god damn sheets. You’ll be damned if you ask for help with this.

“Fuckfuckfuck” you clearly did something wrong because the dressing is stuck around the edges. You pull again, but the pain is too much, so you plop down in bed. There’s a knock at the door, and you groan, which will hopefully make whoever’s on the other side go away.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Natasha says, rushing to your side.

“Can’t change my bandages” you say, not caring if your incompetence upsets her.

“Can I look?”

You nod, sitting up so she can see for herself the mess you’re in. Her hands are surprisingly soft and tender, and you’re almost dozing off while Natasha works silently.

Except when there’s a tug and you jump back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’ll be just one painful pull, ok?” the woman says, one of her hands going to your cheek. Your eyes meet and the way she’s looking at you almost makes the pain go away.

“Ok” you nod. Natasha takes it off in a swift movement, and all you can do is take a sharp breath as your skin stings. “Fuck me” you say through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think you’d enjoy it that much with the state you’re in” she jokes, which makes you smile.

“You know what I mean”

“Just teasing”

“You’re certainly good”

Natasha keeps working in silence, and you worry you may have crossed a line. When she’s done, she picks up the trash and goes to throw it away.

“Ask for help next time”

“I need help for everything. I wanted to at least do something on my own without being a burden”

“You’re not a burden” she says, her back to you as she washes her hands on the sink.

Something comes over you, and when Natasha walks by your side to exit the room, your hand shoots up to hold her wrist.

“Y/N?”

“I… I missed you. I know we’re colleagues and all I do is share whatever meal I’m having, or train with you from time to time. I know I can’t really do any of those things right now. I’m inconsequential, I know, to your life and to whatever you do. But I do miss you, Natasha. And I wish I didn’t care so much”

It feels like her skin is burning under your fingers, so you let go, ashamed at your little outburst. You’re expecting her to leave without another word but instead, she kneels to meet your eyes.

“You’re the opposite of inconsequential. But I don’t know how to care without being vulnerable”

“I don’t think that’s possible. Caring is vulnerability” you say softly. “But it’s also a strenght. It means you’re not alone”

Natasha smiles, a genuine smile for the first time in weeks. She’s about to say something else when FRIDAY calls for her at the conference room.

At this hour, it only means one thing. She stands up, looking apologetic.

“Be careful” is all you can say as she leaves the room.

—

A party is the last thing you’re in the mood for. Not only are you still wearing a cane (an improvement from the crutches) but Natasha has been gone for several days to complete a mission only a handful of people know about.

It makes you anxious, to think she might be in danger, though she is the most capable agent in the entire world.

“So glad you made it” Tony says when you finally show up. It took some convincing on Wanda’s part, but you agreed once you found an outfit that didn’t require you to wear heels.

The Avengers are at their own couch, talking and laughing. Bucky has apointed himself as your personal waiter, bringing snacks and drinks.

“Any word on Nat?” Stark asks, which distracts you from the conversation with Sam.

“Said she was still stuck at the debriefing” Steve shrugs his shoulders. It’s no surprise, if she can avoid these parties, Natasha will.

At least she’s home and safe. That brings you some peace of mind, and you’re able to enjoy the rest of the party.

Tony announces the fireworks are about to start, and you relunctantly stand next to the huge crowd assembled at the front yard of the Compound.

The first burts of color is followed by a couple of cheers.

But it’s different for you.

The booming sound, the lights, it all sets you on edge.

You’ve been around explosions before, and this had never happened. Frozen in place, you try to close your eyes and control your breathing as the noises increase your anxiety.

How you wish you could run back to your room right now, but it’s nearly impossible to walk between everyone.

“It’s ok” a voice says, and there’s the warmth of another body next to yours. “You’re ok”

“Nat” you sigh with relief, closing your eyes. Another firework explodes and you jump.

“Look at me” she says, her hand going up and down your back in a soothing motion. You nod, turning your body so she can wrap both arms around your waist. “Breathe with me”

You follow her lead, in and out, until your heartbeat is steady again.

“You’re ok” she says, this time more of a reminder to herself. “And I’m here”

“Thank you” you lean your forehead against hers, letting her decide if she wants to take that final step. Natasha smiles, a hand cupping your cheek as her lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

“I missed you too” she says when you break apart.

“I’m not going anywhere”

[angelltheninth]

Blinder Than the Blind

Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, angst, injury, working together, teammates, first kiss, Bucky is bad at feelings

Word count: 1.2k

Ao3

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Every time I see him I love him just a little bit more. It's not just me is it? I know it's not.

You went on many missions before you went on one with Bucky, The Winter Soldier and kind of your mentor. It was a little annoying because the man was only a few years older then you, well not counting the experiments, and he treated you like a rookie. Going through field training with him was one thing, you could mouth off to him there, but in the helicopter, on the field you recognized stealth and your mission as the priority.

Bucky would never say he was picking on you but he did seem to keep a closer eye on you the most. During daytime it was annoying as hell, but during nighttime you found other uses for his heated gaze.

Another thing you would never admit to him, your massive crush on him.

What started as more of a hero crush, with him being someone you looked up to a lot, devolved into annoyance really fast and came back full force as what often manifested as lust. Thank god he always called you for missions cause you would not handle him hearing the way you moaned his name.

“Bucky, I’m fine. I mean, sir, I’m fine.” You giggled at him as he set you down on the medical bed, your head spinning from the blood loss. “Hey, does it do anything for you? When you get called sir?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at you and resumed reading the report of your admision, not that he had to but he wasn’t going to entertain this flirting from an injured and clearly delirious teammate. “No. But it seems like you don’t know the meaning of the word either. Why rush head first like that? You know where the drop zone was, you jumped before we reached it.” Bucky’s face hardened as he leaned forward in his chair and made a gun motion with his metal hand, “If I hadn’t jumped right after you it could have ended badly.”

That, it was that attitude that irked you. That better then anyone else, superiority complex of his. “So its rules for thee but not for me? Cause I’ve seen you jump off before, I’ve seen you storm a building by yourself, how is that not reckless?” Every time he acted that way your heart would stop for a moment before you remembered-

“I’ve done this since before you were born. It wasn’t pretty, or safe, but I learned how to be good at it. You don’t have the luxury of that. I’m sorry, but you’re off duty for the rest of the week.” Even the pain medication you were on couldn’t help how pissed off you felt at him at this moment. If you weren’t scared it would break your hand you would have punched him on his shoulder. “You’re angry.”

“Oh? What gave you that idea?” You rolled your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to gather your thoughts and feelings, “At least I finally got your attention.”

“What?” Bucky’s responce was lightning fast and shocked, his eyes wide, the papers falling to the med bed.

“Did I just say that out loud?” All the color drained from your face at the realization. Forget the mission, forget the heroics, you just wanted to get snapped out of existence. Or to another universe, anything as long as you didn’t have to stay here in this moment.

Bucky did pay attention to you, but it always when you least wanted him to. “You did this for my attention? Do you think I don’t care about you? Are you blind as well as incapable of following orders?” His voice was rising but not with anger, with fear and worry from your words. It all looked the same to you because, you’d never seen Bucky worried about you.

When you didn’t answer him he leaned back and sighed into his hand, other reaching for your hand. Despite it being colder then your own skin you didn’t move from the contact, although it was far from the reaction you expected. The silence stretched for several minutes, neither of you daring to break it.

“I don’t need your pity, sir. And I don’t need you to treat me like I can’t handle myself on missions.”

“You really are blind, no that would be an insult to a lawyer I know. Real asshole but he can clearly see the things in front of him, he can read people like no other. You?” He chuckled, not quite mocking but you didn’t know how else to read it, “You wouldn’t get it if I spelled it out for you.”

“I also don’t appreciate you thinking I’m stupid, sir.” You grit the last word though your teeth, “Why don’t you try me?” You grabed his hand, pulling him towards you, a taunt you thought he wouldn’t answer.

But he did.

He answered loud and clear, with his lips on your, with his hands on your cheeks, cradling your face like you’d break under him.

He was right. You didn’t understand. “You... kissed me just now?” Your whole world was turned on its head, this whole time you were under the impression that Bucky hated your guts. To be fair, he might, you heard of people hooking up while not actually liking each other, to get the frustrations out. This didn’t feel like that, there was no anger behind that kiss, no frustration, in fact that was the most gentle you’ve witnessed Bucky be.

“I did. Tell me what your conclusion is, when they let you out of here.” His touch lingered for as long as possible, your cheeks burning when his hands fell away. Well shit.

You were absolutely unable to focus on anything the doctor was saying other then when she said you were free to go. In that case you were fine. Right? Wrong. That kiss made your head spin more then the injury itself. Almost enough to make you forget about it all together. Okay, you can figure this out. Bucky liked you. Your heart told you that, your head refused to accept it.

As you walked out of the medical bay you saw him waiting beside the entrance, a worried look on his face. His eyes lifted up to see you, looking well. He was barely able to hide his relived sigh. Well earlier you had the energy to argue with him so you must not have been that bad, still he showed you just how much, and in what way, he cared for you.

“Ready to go?” He didn’t seem to want to address the kiss from earlier, instead he offered you his gloved hand as he stood up, waiting.

Your felt a tightness inside your chest. You could walk past him, you could never speak of the kiss again, you could yell at him for it, you could go back home and yell at yourself for not seeing he cared about you all this time. Or you could simply take his hand. The last one was the choice you want with, and without saying a word, with a gentle smile from Bucky as you took your place by his side you started your walk back to your place.

[yoditopascal]

As a DMC fan who’s currently watching the new anime all I have to say without posting any spoilers is that it’s still worth a watch. It may not be canon to the story of the games and really just takes the characters and some of the lore and sticks them in an alternate universe-ish plot but I think it’s still visually appealing and is trying to be faithful to the lore while still giving us a different story to follow along with. I haven’t finished it yet (I’m only on episode 3 as of rn 😭) but I still think if you’re a Devil May Cry fan you should at least give it a little looksie!

My ONE gripe however is they tried so hard to make Lady so edgy it’s actually backfiring and making me not like her as much (which is sad cuz she’s literally my 2nd favorite character in the game franchise 😭) so I hope she gets a little more tolerable later on but yeah other than that they did SO GOOD with writing the villains in this like the White Rabbit is so cool and just so FINE 🫣

Update: I’m on episode 5 now! I still like it as an AU story (and YES I’ve played the games in the past and watched the old anime back in the day and just recently rebought all of the games again, even the reboot, while they’re all on sale and I still like the show!) I know a lot of people are really bitching about its lore accuracy and I really do get it, yeah it sucks to have a favorite series get adapted the wrong way, and it sucks that they’re really seeming to wanna push this political plot point so hard even though it has nothing to do with dmc itself (I’m talking about the treatment of demons here in comparison to our current irl political climate btw just trying to avoid spoilers for folks who haven’t seen it yet) but overall the show is still pretty entertaining, personally I like it for the most part and still think it’s definitely worth a watch!

That being said people are allowed to disagree with me and dislike things thats fine, everyone is entitled to share how they feel about the show but calling people shitty names just for liking something you don’t doesn’t make you any better for being a “real” DMC fan, it just makes you look like an entitled jackass. You can critique things without being a dick about it to others!

[yandere-romanticaa]

It was the dawn of another day and yet getting out of the overly comfortable bed was so impossibly challenging, one would think that anyone who would sleep on it was chained up from head to toe. With tousled sheets and a quiet groan, you got up and quickly went to dress yourself as classes would soon be starting.

Being late was not an option, no matter how sweet the temptation of rest may be.

The long robes which were assigned to you were far from flattering but they did the job well enough - you at least somewhat resembled a scribe. The fabric was loose all over your body, making you look less like a student and more like an early morning phantom whose duty it was to shadow the other students. Being the second shadow of Professor Anaxagoras however was as delightful as it was disheartening.

Watching that man merely speak was an experience in it of its own. Everything he said was an absolute truth, he never bothered in sugar coating anything which gave him a somewhat rough reputation amongst the rest of the student body. You could not help but to admire that confidence from time to time. The desire to be strong and better coursed through your veins on the daily and like an overly inflated balloon, it simply popped one day. You were all to aware that there was absolutely nothing spectacular about you - average grades, no special honours or rewards, common background and there was absolutely nothing planned for your long term future.

The feeling could be best described as if you were lost in a thick fog - the murkiness, the tension, it was all so much. For all your life you've been a student and suddenly you are expected to flee from your nest and spread your wings.

The thought was horrifyingly exciting. You just wished to posses the knowledge on where to even start.

It didn't help that it felt as though everyone around you had some sort of plan in store. A career was already waiting for them or perhaps they even started a happy little family of their own and none of those things were even close to being in your grasp. It was so infuriating that it made you want to cry.

To mend the pain even for a little bit, you turned to your professor. He was going to tell you the truth no matter how harsh it may be and you would not mind one bit, no word was going to hurt more than the confusion you had already been drowning in for what seemed like forever.

On a fine spring morning the birds chirped their sweet song, which helped you feel more at ease as you walked throughout the long and imposing corridors, the massive tree wrapping its branches all over the who knows how old walls. Passing by the occasional painting felt odd, as if the people within them had come to life and were taunting you with each step you took.

Fool, they whispered feverishly.

You will never amount to anything.

With a gulp and resound knock, you tapped on the oak door three times politely. Nervousness seeped into your being like water, the sensation filling each and every crack as you immediately started to regret this decision. Gosh, what were you even going to say again? The Professor is such a busy man, there was no way he was ever-

All of a sudden, the door flew open and you were met face to face with your professor. Silky grey hair shimmered underneath the dim light of his office as he cooly granted you permission to enter. He swiftly made his way back towards his comfortable chair and just as he was sitting down, he silently reached out his hand and pointed towards the chair opposite of his own.

Be careful what you wish for was a phrase you would hear on occasion. Perhaps, this might just be a good example of that saying.

Although, such a silent response was not something you saw coming. You figured that he was going to turn you away with a flicker of his hand because who was he to even entertain someone so beneath him?

Covering his lower mouth with his hand, the brilliant man managed to hide the growing smirk on his lips. For a while now he had been watching you, observing the way you would tail behind him like a lost puppy. He took note of your efforts even if they could be a smidge lackluster at times.

At the very least there was some effort put into them. He could give you that praise, and he would gladly do it. But there was a growing desire blooming inside him, a curiosity you had managed to ignite completely by accident. Sometimes he would walk and up and down his office and wonder if he could perhaps mold you into something other than the common fools which surrounded him daily. Or were you going to grow all on your own and find your true calling elsewhere?

There was an odd beauty in that. And Anaxagoras was so curious to see how far you would go to achieve this dream even if you had no idea what that dream was to begin with.

Besides, the egoist in him could not deny the fact that he enjoyed your undivided attention. He could taste the sweetness on his tongue, the all consuming desire of wanting more was overwhelming.

For now, he was going to play the part of the dutiful official who would lend you a helping hand. And he could not wait to see which path you were going to pick in the end.

A/N: I've noticed that for a while now I've been writing only when I'm feeling completely and utterly miserable. This fic was a product of my own insecurities and high key desire to push out something for Anaxa, even if it's not necessarily well done. I say having a hard time in characterizing him even if I have fallen head over heels for him in the 3.1 quest.

Also, writing is fucking hard. It's so damn hard, why did I pick this as my primary hobby. I really am shooting myself in the foot here.

[munv]

𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗘.

𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲. 𝗦𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗔𝗴𝗲, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

P1

It was mid spring, the breeze softly embraced others, while another looked out the window with a fargone gaze.

you never really liked spring, honestly. It was all some sick excuse for people to say something like “its perfect to go outside!”. Really, you’d rather stay indoors while its winter. It gives you an excuse to stay away when your classmates makes plans to go to karaoke, things along that line.

During winter, the bitter frost would bite those who were vulnerable. But you never took it that way. You took it as something beautiful. People really never understood your affinity for winter when you explained it.

it was more of a personal, deep connection rather than a unornamented preference. At least to you it was.

Beliefs drove to conviction, and conviction led to acceptance. There were a lot of complicated things in this world you didn’t like too.

This was your belief, there was no need for all this extra stuff. Life is as fleeting as the fickle heart, so might as well do what you want, right?

sadly, not many others shared this sentiment. So here you were, in physical science, left alone to wander through your wild mind.

“ms [l/n], would you care to help us with this equation? At least, I hope that’s what you’re thinking about in the back there!” The woman at the front of the class called

Right. School. That thing? You’re in it right now. “It would be ‘c=2 x 3.14 x r’, Mrs Bato” you turned away from the window to face the woman. She was the type of teacher who would pick on whoever she saw fit, almost as if she was threatened by your presence, she often asked questions that disguised the malice behind them. 

Maybe she felt challenged by your aloof demeanor. Not like you planned on sitting around in her class long enough to find out anyways. “ah..yes, that’s right” she said unenthusiastically, you think she was hoping for you to say something else. 

After your answer, she moved onto her next victim for the period until the bell rang. 

RINGGGG

as the bell rang, you quickly gathered up all your materials and placed them under your desk. “Don’t forget to review chapter 25 for next week’s homework!” The teacher called out to the fleeting students.

Making your way out the door amongst the lively crowd, you managed to navigate your way to the art room. It was especially rowdy today, perhaps they were having something good for lunch today. Not like didn’t bring your own. As you reached for the door handle of the club room, it suddenly slid open harshly before you.

There you came face to face with him. “Ah, [l/n]-san” his deep voice rumbled with kindness and a bit if curiosity as he looked down at you. “shishio-san” you bowed. 

You’ve seen the dude around campus, considering the fact he was nick-named “The Strongest Primate High Schooler” it was hard to miss him. Tsukasa was one of the popular, yet humble type of guys.

”how are you today?” He smiled. Every now and then when he encountered you, he would try to make small talk. Obviously noting that you avoided him at any cost necessary.

Last thing you needed was his fangirls jumping you in the nearest alleyway.

“Fine. May I go in? Or do you have business to attend in there?” You pointed to the room. Lunch box in hand. 

Tsukasa picked up you weren’t ready to have small talk by now. Nodding along he sidestepped out of the doorway. “See you later [l/n]”

”hopefully” you remarked before watching him walk down the hallway “not”

Not like he wronged your lineage in a past life of anything, you just had these weird vibes that you got in the gut whenever he pranced around the vicinity. You never bothered to entertain him, trusting the gut above all else.

Making your way inside the clubroom, the door was closed behind you quickly. Placing your lunch down on the nearest counter you searched inside the drawers for equipment.

“Acrylics, oils, sponges…” making sure you listed off everything you needed for todays piece, you put everything in a small bucket and walked towards the canvas. 

The window for the club room was open, providing a refreshing breath of air. The faint smell of dried paint circulated the room. The quiet room lulled you into a sea of thoughts. There were no members today in the room since clubs weren't required on Monday's, for whatever reason that is. The outside world faded away as your brush gently stroke the canvas, each color more vibrant than the other. Today, you painted a forest with a few statues. It gave off the whole history, but poetic vibe. Each color blended perfect with the other, painting was an escape, you never had to explain or talk for yourself, since the art did it for you. 

Maybe it was too nice today though. Normally you wouldn't find yourself in a such a calming situation, and noticing how the world was always dead set on ruining whatever peace coming your way, you became skeptical. 

You hesitated on the next stroke before feeling the hairs on your body stand at full attention. "cmon..I doubt anything bad is gonna happen to me now!..I mean, all along in this club room? slim chance" you muttered to yourself with an exasperated sigh. Maybe you've just been tired recently? Gotta be it. 

Your gaze shifted to the open window with curiosity before something caught your eye. Has..the horizon always been that green?? Maybe it's all that screen time getting to your head and playing tricks. However, the longer you stared, the more apparent it became that this was indeed not a trick on your eyes, but the horizon was indeed turning green. And for the green? it was coming right towards you. "holy shit, is the government fighting with aliens or something?" You began with a light joke, before sweating. "wait. Oh my God its real?" you began to back away from the window, dropping your brush in a panic. The pressure in the air made your breath hitched. Your pulse quickened and without thinking twice. You ducked down into the most protected looking corner of the room with quick prayers and a heavy heart. "please let this be some sick joke..!"

A strange sensation spread throughout your body, it was stiffening yet, a far cry from uncomfortable at the same time.

"did I just get fucking mummified?" 

[sportyphile]

Low Battery

Paring: Joe Burrow x reader

warnings: depressing thoughts, angst, family dynamics. fluff

words: 1,116

a/n: I typed this out in one straight shot with no previous details figured out so I hope its okay. This is the complete opposite of all of the great and cute Christmas Joe fics everyone has been writing. Hope you all had a great Christmas if you celebrate! But without further ado! Its Christmas Eve, and Joe sees your social battery has worn out for the day.

Your family was mingling with each other, laughing and talking around the kitchen table and in the living room. Your little cousins and niece and nephew were in the playroom, keeping each other entertained with toys. You were sitting alone at the kitchen island, slowly eating the food on your plate. There wasn't any other room for you to sit but you didn't mind. Your posture was slumped slightly, your thoughts turned inward rather than focusing on the party going on around you. Joe, moving away from talking with your dad, turned the corner to see you and he immediately knew what was wrong. Your social battery had run out, and he knew you were struggling with spending time with your family.

You felt a hand land on the small of your back gently rubbing a spot on your sweater. The touch made you smile softly, grounding you and bringing you back to reality. You knew it was Joe without having to look. "Hey." He said softly, glancing at your half eaten plate. The amount of food that had been made from scratch over the past few days in preparation for the party, could have fed an army. Christmas Eve had always been a big deal in your family. But you hadn't eaten a lot. "I'm ready if you are." He hadn't asked how you were because you knew you'd put on a brave face and say you were fine when you weren't. At least while there were others around.

You nodded and picked up your plate to scrap off the food into the trash while Joe went to grab your coats and hats. "Time for us to head home, I've got to start prepping for Broncos game on Saturday." Joe announced towards your family as he held your coat so it was easier for you to put on, and you smiled at him once it was on.

"Thank you for coming early to help with the set up." Your mom chimed in from her spot at the table. There would be no hugs, your family didn't hug or say "love you" unless you were flying and there was a possibly of you crashing and dying.

"No problem at all." Joe smiled and went around to say good bye to everyone while you followed, putting on smiles and hugging your niece and nephew tightly before you made your way through the door and to the car, Joe holding the passenger side door open for you. "Thank you." You grabbed his arm gently and got onto your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek before getting into the car and putting your seatbelt on. You felt like the complete opposite of the confident women you had grown into since being away from home. Christmas hadn't always felt like this, it had been magical when you had been a child.

The car ride home was quiet, Joe didn't force conversation. He did take your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours as he drove with one hand. Glances he stole in your direction once in a while to see how you were doing. The further away you got from the house, the better you felt.

Being shy, quiet and being a girl in an old school traditional family where boys were valued more, you had always felt somewhat out of place. Like whatever you did, wasn't enough. Your family had never done anything to hurt you, but words were said on occasion that cut you. And any time you tried to do something by yourself without Joe around, they were overbearing. Years of it had taken its toll mentally, even if they meant well. Being the girlfriend of an NFL quarterback, had caused you to adapt to being alone a lot but that hadn't been hard for you since you had lived life on your own most of your life.

But there was guilt that you didn't actually have it that bad compared to some families. You loved your parents and family still, you had good moments with them, but it was draining to be around them. Joe had helped you grow as a person in more ways than one, and during the season you were his rock as much as he was yours on the off season.

Once Joe parked in his garage, you unlocked the front door and took off your shoes, immediately wanting to change out of your clothes and slip into something more comfortable. Joe's excuse to prep for the Broncos wasn't a complete lie, he had had started to as soon as the Browns game had finished. But there were more things he wanted to look at and you didn't mind, it was part of his job and you would support him.

Once you were changed, you went to find Joe who you figured would be in his office. But you almost walked right into each other in the doorway of the bedroom. "What are you doing?" You asked as you noticed he had his Ipad in his hands with a notebook and pencil. "I'm going to study some film while you lie down." You knew by his tone, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Joe couldn't read your mind all of the time, which is where communication came in. But he was pretty good at noticing what you needed during certain times, and this was one of those moments. It made your heart melt.

"Alright." You moved away from the door to climb into your side of the bed and get comfortable. Joe turned the TV on so he could cast from his Ipad to the tv so it was easier to look at. You loved when he let you look at plays from the other team, his fingers dancing on the screen to manipulate it to freeze and go backwards and forwards as he studied.

Joe noticed you watching and he smiled, knowing you felt better. "You're okay. You're doing good, I'm proud of you always." He reassured you as his fingers ran into your hair for a moment as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. You shifted to snuggle close to him as much as you could without getting in the way of his things on the bed. His words made you tear up for a few moments but no tears actually fell. You put your arm across his lap and smiled up at him. "I love you." Your voice was soft and full of love. "I love you too." He smiled before he focused on his Ipad once more. It wasn't long before you fell asleep, content with the life you had built for yourself.

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION: BODY HAIR, BHAALIST DU DROW, BLOOD INQUIRIES, THE MAN'S DICK AND HOBBIES.

Answering more asks! As always, I want to apologize for not being able to get to everyone - literally nobody has ever complained about it, but I still feel bad 😅I appreciate everyone's questions and sweet messages all the same, and even if your ask isn't here I hope you can be entertained by the other replies!

Anon I feel terrible about having to say this because I can tell you were hoping for a specific answer here, plus doing your very best to sell your pitch to me -

But DU drow hates body hair.

I'm not making this up in the spot just to be a contrarian, this is one of various unimportant character details that have come up already at some point or another, for whatever reason. It is no coincidence that many of the characters he finds unattractive do have visible body hair, like Gale and Halsin whose hairy toes he dreads the sight of.

I refuse to believe that elves are truly dolphin-smooth as that would be an absolute biological nightmare, so both him and Astarion have a normal amount of peach-fuzz all over. Otherwise, DU drow finds the sight of anything longer/coarser than that unseemly, and the feeling unpleasant; it is simply what he grew up with and hence what he's used to. In this respect, he wants people who take after his own image.

As with most things, he could forgive it if he were in love with someone - assuming you don't mind the occasional joke about it. And unfortunately I think something as significant as Halsin's case would be too off-putting for him to ever give them a chance. A Shadowheart situation, on the other hand, he could grow to like.

I believe there's some sources that imply bhaal-corrupted(?) blood should taste a particular way, leaning towards the unpleasant. People can make up whatever headcanons they want with that information, BUT since I spent over half of this game supplying the guy with the stuff and he seemed all too pleased about it, I choose to assume it's not that bad.

I think there would be something... Lively about it? Fairly normal taste but it leaves a tingle on his tongue, like it squirms on its way out and dies in his mouth moments before it can hit the throat. Very salty, but it could just be his skin.

[FAR, FAR MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Bhaalist DU drow likes both cats and dogs just fine (again, he considers the animal kingdom to be it's own thing and hence removed from his fate to butcher humanity) and you wouldn't be wrong to assume he has a thing for dogs in that AU because of their unconditionally loving and loyal nature, however Bhaalist DU drow is still very much a cat person. He likes their independence, their little attitudes, their self-sufficiency, plus the fact that they keep the rat population in check inside the temple. He finds those qualities admirable, respectable, perhaps he would even find them desirable in a partner if, unlike he cats, he wasn't so opposed to them roaming free.

In-game DU drow succeeded the check required to spot Astarion before he could jump him - so yes, just not the version where they end up rolling awkward around the sand for 2 minutes, LOL.

He's semi aware of it, or at least he becomes aware whenever Astarion's mask slips. When Astarion is putting on a good performance, DU drow wholeheartedly believes it. Also, It's worth noting that Astarion does manage to have fun occasionally, and have periods of... Superficial happiness? They just so happen to be unfulfilling, and don't make up for all the other pitfalls of his situation when they inevitably come crashing back. He's also great at tricking himself into thinking this is a good time.

Bhaalist DU drow makes vague attempts at "making things better" whenever he catches him in a mood, usually through physical affection or lavish gifts. That works well enough the first year I think, before everything kind of loses its luster. After that, DU drow just gets it into his head that Astarion "doesn't understand what he must do to succeed and keep him safe".

This is a VERY interesting observation and... Maybe? Especially early in the relationship, DU drow finds Astarion's quasi-predatorial behavior very attractive, but only AFTER he notices his vampirism. I think this outlook of the character contextualizes Astarion's condition in a way that he can immediately understand and simpathize with, even if DU drow doesn't know much about vampires themselves. Of course, this is specific to Astarion - he does not extend this grace to the rest of his kind.

I'll be thinking about this one!

I don't know the video in question but from your description I think they would both be VERY confused, LOL.

HMM, I think that might actually depend on a lot of things! Assuming the woman (or just the other partner) in the relationship isn't a drow, and exactly what KIND of devotion we're talking about (is the drow pro-active? Protective? Does he put his neck on the line for this relationship with pride? Does he seem strong and capable and like he doesn't rely on his partner?) he might see enough of himself in him that they could actually get along. This is similar to how DU drow immediately took a liking to Aylin even though she's this moon-goddess child and a supposed beacon of justice.

The quickest way to get on DU drow's good side is to be the idealized version of what he believes himself to be. Oh, and not get in his way.

If they're both drow it's kind of hopeless though, yeah LOL.

Planning on it!!

DU drow never slept with Haarlep! He only took his clothes off and then attacked him full in the nude.

...I'm not sure how to justify that in the lore, but it's exactly what I did and it's too funny to take it back, LOL

I think Astarion was just kind of baffled by what transpired until DU drow turned to while hopping around pulling his pants back on and asked if he enjoyed the show, then he remembered he just loves finding any excuse to take his clothes off.

That's a lovely compliment, I definitely go for a very "organic" look so I genuinely appreciate it. Thank you!

Thank you!!! A lot has actually been said about Gortash in my #enver gortash tag, if you'd like to get all the gritty details. Suffice to say that they had a very odd but significant friendship.

DU drow is the kind of person who shoots awake as soon as the sun starts gracing the sky, but he tends to do whatever he has to do and then go back to bed right after, and stay there at least a bit past noon. He did this both in his bhaalist days and in Astarion's company, though the amount of time he spends asleep during the day definitely increases because of the vamp, especially over time!

So, the urethra in a penis is located pretty much on the underside of the shaft, so the wound actually does not reach it! As far as functions go - peeing and ejaculating - it comes out of the tip's opening as normal. When he first caused the wound it probably did puncture the urethra, but that would have closed up over time. What you see is the injury many years after the fact, after all.

So the implications are pretty minor. Aesthetically, his foreskin hangs a bit weirdly when he's soft (like a tiny little penis curtain) and has more give than usual. Functionally, he has spots within the scarred up injury that are either numb or overly sensitive. Also, you can kind of see the dickhead notch through his underwear which is fun.

Otherwise, that is pretty much it! No worries about the nature of the question I've gotten worse, LOL. Thank you for your kind words as well!

I think he used to write in his bhaalist days - very, very occasionally mind you - like if you scoured the temple you would find a dozen or so ripped up pieces of paper with little short poems on them, written in a very sharp and carefree hand. Anywhere from 3 to 10 lines per-poem, usually less than more. The sentences are descriptive of actions, never feelings or thoughts, but they don't ever seem literal.

Back in those days, he also went to the theater every other year.

Post-tadpole, he ends up dabbling in carpentry, leather-work, and enjoys listening for musical numbers taking place in taverns and inns to go to and watch. He eventually starts pulling Astarion into little slow dances when that happens. I think he might end up writing again someday, but not for many, many years.

[reveluving]

angel in hell ; the ghoul x reader

summary: hell on earth is more tolerable with his light by his side.

warnings: allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), very brief mentions of attempted su~icide, reader as an 'entertainer' is used loosely (for your creativity!), cocky (softer) hard-ass x beautiful badass darling trope mmm, reader was born before the war, age gap but not really (think him in his 40s & you in your 20s/30s but in 200-ish years old), strong language, bits of angst and more fluff overall!

a/n: just a little tester because I could not help it HAHAHA had this in my mind for a few days, and now that I've started the show, I have an excuse to post it 💅🏼 please enjoy & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about my writing? come & check out my main m.list!

'You wondered how your dead father would react to your relationship with a deadly and smitten cowpoke.' ;

You were an entertainer before it all. The best of the best. A real knockout of the century and the kindest of them all.

If only you knew it had its downsides.

Your admirer (read: obsessor) being none other than the Overseer of 33 himself, forcing you into the vault lifestyle with him to be his beloved.

But your mental strength, your humanity, your free will was unbudgeable.

Not even the experiments could budge you.

Not until that one fucking serum.

You tried everything. Before and after your escape.

But the afterlife, or whatever the hell that existed outside of this godforsaken world, just wouldn't take you.

Your mama always said that by living a good, long life, the universe gets to show you what they had to offer.

Thank the heavens she didn't live long enough to take her words back, if she knew the hell her only daughter was put into.

And though the Vault taught you how to survive better than the poor souls on the surface, sometimes you wished you didn't remember how to. Yearning for the ignorance and the near-zombified state they were in over the pristine lifestyle that would jump out of you every once in a while.

At least whatever the underground snakes injected you with kept your youth intact.

Though, you weren't the only one reminiscing your old days, remembering the smiles that immediately bloomed from your presence.

Howard, The Ghoul remembers you.

Nobody at his great age could ever forget a sweet face like yours. Standing out from all the yuppies, despite being well-off yourself at the time, much like you were now. You knew your rights from your wrongs, and they were never for show. Regardless of the bags under your eyes on sleepless nights, or the scars that would decorate your skin after a rough-up, just until your curse magically wooshes it away.

Despite your scoffs, your wave-offs over your old life, that the present had no need for an entertainer, he would say otherwise.

All. The. Time.

Always countering your modesty with the highest praises, albeit sometimes lewdly.

But… not always.

He knew that you knew you were one of a kind if he was able to tell you his life before the bombs dropped. That he was able to tell you stories of his late family. That he was able to tell you that you were 'somethin' special t'him'.

You wondered how your dead father would react to your relationship with a deadly and smitten cowpoke.

But you were on your own now.

Always been for over two hundred fucking years.

At least, that was the way it was before.

Not anymore. Not with the foul-mouthed gunslinger and his pooch, who, to the chagrin of your man, adored you more than him.

Which, really, how couldn't you talk Howard's ear off for harming the sweetheart at first?

Disbelief was something he had lived with from the day he stumbled upon you in the badlands one fine night. The pretty little lady who didn't look like she could hurt a fly back then now aimed her trusty rifle at him with an unlit ciggy in between your lips. Not a tremor in sight as you looked through your scope.

He was half-tempted to be shot.

And well, you did, taking the shot. It did as good as a chocolate teapot, and as you quickly tried to reload, he took a good look at you.

You were a sight for sore eyes before, but today, gorgeous wasn't even cutting it, and if he wasn't daydreaming about your messy hair and sorry clothing article for a sleepwear, then he definitely was about that one night—your first night.

How you teasingly pulled the wide collar of your top down, revealing more and more of your velvety skin. How gentle your kisses were, brushing your lips along his neck like he'd finally break after a lifespan of wandering. How you looked up at him, lips parted and eyes dazed with lust and dare he say, affection.

He knew he was a goner.

But like all the time, he wanted to be greedy.

And for once in his life, after an eternity, the future was finally shedding him some light of hope.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: if something ain't right, no it isn't ❤️ don't worry about it, still hope you enjoy! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[velvetghoul]

Your Reign Ends at Midnight

✦ One-Shot

Reader x True Form Sukuna | 18+ MDNI

cw: smut, rough dom, brat taming, light bdsm, nsfw, 18+, degradation, bondage, spanking, orgasm control, rough sex, possessiveness, dubcon vibes, power dynamics, supernatural setting

⸻

You knew you were playing a dangerous game the moment you slid into Sukuna’s throne room wearing that robe—barely belted, sheer enough to see your hardened nipples through the silk. You had gotten too comfortable with him lately, testing your limits. Teasing him. Denying him.

And now, you wanted to see how far he’d go before he snapped.

“You look bored, Sukuna,” you said, voice sugarcoated and sweet, swinging your hips with every slow step toward him. “Want me to entertain you?”

The ancient curse regarded you with a lazy, cold stare from his high seat—eyes dark like spilled ink, ringed in red malice. Four arms, resting with deceptive calm. A king. A beast. A god in flesh.

“You’re walking a fine line, woman” he growled, voice like gravel and thunder.

“I know,” you hummed, licking your lips. “That’s the fun part.”

That was all it took.

In a flash, you were beneath him—your wrists pinned above your head with one hand, your thighs spread open by another, while his remaining arms roamed your body like they owned it.

Because they did. And he was about to remind you.

“You think you’re entertaining?” Sukuna sneered, his voice rasping against your ear as his tongue dragged along your jaw. “You’re a distraction. A toy that doesn’t know its place.”

You giggled, breathless. “Then show me.”

That smirk. The one that meant you were fucked.

Quite literally.

He hauled you into the air like you weighed nothing, throwing you down onto the stone floor of the shrine, rough and cold against your back. The robe slipped away in an instant—torn in half by a flick of his claw.

“Bratty little thing,” he hissed, tracing your inner thigh with a sharp nail. “You want to be punished.”

You gasped when he slapped your inner thigh. “Is that what this is? A punishment?”

“You’ll beg me to stop before I’m done with you.”

But you wouldn’t. You never did.

He tied your wrists with cursed energy, a glowing crimson tether burning with the weight of his control. Each limb was bound and held open—exposed, vulnerable, his. You whimpered when he bent down and dragged his tongue along your slit, not teasing—claiming.

“S-Sukuna—“

“Quiet.” A harsh slap landed on your clit, making you cry out. “You don’t speak unless I say so.”

You pouted, deliberately grinding against his face. “Make me.”

His growl was feral. His hands gripped your hips, fingers biting into your skin, holding you down as his tongue plunged into you—fast, punishing, relentless. You screamed his name, but that only made him go harder.

“I said quiet, you little bitch,” he snarled, smacking your cunt again before replacing his tongue with two thick fingers, fucking you hard and fast while your eyes rolled back.

“I—ah—Sukuna—!”

He pulled away just before you came. Left you trembling. On the edge.

“Did I say you could cum?”

You whimpered. Shook your head.

“Good girl. At least you remember that.”

Then he spread you wider, lining his cock up—massive, thick, veins pulsing with cursed power. You barely had time to breathe before he slammed into you, bottoming out in one brutal thrust that stole your breath and sanity.

“Fuck—so tight,” he groaned, voice strained as he forced you to take it all.

You clawed at the bindings, moaning like a whore, hips bucking against his merciless pace. He fucked you like a conqueror—hard, deep, punishing. Your moans echoed through the shrine like prayers.

“You were begging for this,” he grunted, one hand around your throat now, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. “Walking around like a slut, teasing me, thinking I wouldn’t put you in your place.”

“D-daddy—” you choked out, breathless.

His hips stuttered.

“Oh? Now you remember who I am?” His grin was cruel. “Too late, pet.”

He flipped you over like a ragdoll—face pressed to the stone, ass in the air. You barely had time to gasp before he spanked you, hard, until your skin was glowing red.

“Count,” he growled.

“F-fuck—one!”

Another.

“Two!”

He fucked you between each slap—slow, deep strokes that made you sob with the need to come.

“P-please—!”

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “No. Not yet.”

You lost count of how many times he edged you. How many times he made you beg. Cry. Shake.

When he finally let you cum, it was because you were screaming, soaked, a broken mess. You came so hard your vision went white, body shaking with the force of it.

But Sukuna wasn’t finished.

Not even close.

He kept going. Fucked you through it. Held you still while you sobbed and writhed and begged for mercy.

“Lesson learned, brat?” he whispered, biting your neck as you came again, and again.

“Yes! Yes—fuck, yes!”

He laughed.

“Good.”

Then he came inside you—hot, deep, claiming you entirely. You could feel it dripping out before he even pulled out.

You lay there, ruined, twitching, your cunt raw and filled with his cum.

He untied your arms, gathered your shaking body into his lap, and kissed your temple.

“Now behave,” he murmured.

But you were already planning your next bratty move.

And he knew it.

The room smelled like sweat, sex, and something darker.

You lay sprawled—bare, slick, trembling. The sound of your own pulse echoed louder than your breath. Your legs were still parted. Your thighs sticky. Your voice half-gone from all the begging and screaming he’d torn out of you.

But Sukuna?

He sat on the edge like a man still starving.

Four arms, stained with your touch. Blood-red eyes—smoldering. Chest rising and falling with unnatural control.

The King of Curses looked down at you like he hadn’t even started.

“You’re quiet,” he said, voice silk and smoke. “That bratty mouth of yours worn out already?”

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t. You were panting too hard, mind fogged with afterglow and overstimulation.

He chuckled.

“Oh, look at you. Pretty little thing, all fucked dumb. I should take a picture.”

You glared at him, barely lifting your head. “You’re such—”

Your voice cracked. You swallowed. “—a fucking monster.”

He laughed low. “Say it again.”

You rolled to your side, trying to crawl off the bed.

But Sukuna was already standing.

And you were suddenly in his arms.

“I didn’t give you permission to move., did I?”

His voice came as a growl against your skin, and before you could blink, your back hit something cold—a wall of stone.

You looked around—

It was a throne.

Carved into the palace floor like it had risen from the earth just for him. Jagged obsidian. Cursed etchings glowing faintly red.

His throne.

You whimpered.

He sat down, dragging you with him—pulling you onto his lap so your bare, used body was sprawled across his thighs.

And he looked at you like a meal unfinished.

“Sukuna, I—”

He pressed two fingers to your lips. “Shhh. You’ll thank me later.”

You felt him between your legs again.

Hard.

Still.

The audacity of this man to look completely untouched while you were dripping with him was insane.

He lifted your chin. His other hands—god, all of them—roamed your body like worship. Tracing each bruise he’d marked you with. Palming your ass. Curling around your waist.

“You look good ruined,” he said quietly. “I should keep you like this.”

You swallowed hard.

He didn’t wait.

He spread your thighs open again, one hand under your knee, and lowered his head.

You gasped.

“Sukuna—!”

But his tongue was already on you.

Slow.

Dragging.

Unholy.

You cried out, your fingers flying to his hair—trying to grip, to push him away, to ground yourself—

But his top arms caught your wrists, holding them above your head.

“Thought you’d had enough,” he murmured against your soaked folds.

Then he moaned.

“I haven’t.”

He dove back in.

His tongue was filthy.

So was his pace—messy, slurping, insatiable. His moans vibrated through you. His fingers dug into your thighs, keeping you open while his eyes never left yours.

He was eating you out on his throne like you were the last act of worship he’d allow this world.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he warned. “I want you to see how your king feasts.”

You were already shaking.

Already close.

When you came, your body arched—wild, uncontrolled, thighs trembling as you came on his tongue with a broken moan that echoed off the walls.

He licked you through it.

Kissed your inner thigh.

Then leaned back, lips glistening, eyes glowing.

“You taste like devotion,” he said. “No wonder I can’t stop.”

You collapsed against his chest, boneless, trembling, panting.

He wrapped his arms around you.

Cradled you—like a monster with too many teeth and too much obsession.

“Stay,” he murmured against your temple. “Let me keep you like this. Let the world end around us.”

You laughed—weakly, a little delirious. “You’re insane.”

He grinned, sharp and satisfied.

“You’ll love me for it.”

Two days later you had a plan.

A real one.

After everything—after the throne, the teasing, the way he wrecked you and still looked untouched—you wanted payback.

So you waited. Patient. Dangerous.

Let him lounge in his cursed palace, smug and shirtless, stretched over his silk-drenched bed like he didn’t have a single care in the godless world.

And then—

You climbed on top of him.

Sukuna blinked up at you, amused. “Starting something?”

“Finishing it,” you whispered, already straddling his hips, nails dragging down his chest. “You always act like you’re in control.”

His grin was slow. “Because I am.”

“Not tonight.���

He raised an eyebrow.

So you leaned down, lips ghosting over his, hips grinding slow against his hardening cock.

“You’re gonna lie back and take it,” you whispered. “You’ll be good for me.”

That made him chuckle—low and dangerous.

“Queen, huh?”

You kissed his throat.

“Queen of Chaos,” you purred. “And I’m declaring a coup.”

For a moment, he let you.

You rolled your hips over him—grinding slow, teasing his cock, watching his jaw clench as you palmed his chest.

You dragged your nails over the muscle. You kissed down his ribs. You bit his thigh and heard him growl.

Then you lined him up with your entrance and sank down on him in one perfect stroke.

And god, he moaned for you.

Head falling back. Hands gripping the sheets. His chest rising in a deep, shaky breath.

You thought:

Got you.

You were wrong.

You rode him.

Slow at first. Grinding your hips, full and filthy, one hand trailing up your own body, the other resting on his stomach while his four arms stayed exactly where you told them.

He let you.

Let you move how you wanted.

Let you fuck yourself dumb on his cock like you were winning.

And then—he smiled.

Too calm.

Too confident.

Too Sukuna.

“Is that all you’ve got, woman?”

You paused.

And that was your fatal mistake.

He moved so fast you didn’t have time to scream.

One hand on your throat. One arm wrapped around your waist. Another dragging both your wrists behind your back as he slammed you down onto him again.

You shouted, body jerking as he filled you deeper than before, cock hitting so deep you saw stars.

“Thought you could top me?” he growled in your ear. “Cute. Really cute.”

You gasped, breath stolen, knees trembling.

“But this little rebellion of yours?” he rasped, thrusting up hard.

“Ends. Right. Now.”

And it did.

He fucked you from below—thrusts brutal, possessive, merciless.

All four arms holding you exactly where he wanted you, using your body like it was his, like it was built to take him and nothing else.

You cried out with every snap of his hips. Whined his name. Clawed at the arms pinning yours behind your back.

“You like being my queen?” he grunted, breath hot on your shoulder. “Then sit on your throne, baby. Take every inch. Earn the crown.”

You whimpered, already close.

But Sukuna—devil that he is—slowed down.

Stopped.

Let you hover on the edge of pleasure like punishment.

He kissed your jaw. Your throat. Bit your shoulder gently before whispering:

“Did you really think you could conquer me?”

You barely breathed, body shaking, pussy fluttering around him as he held you still—full but denied.

“Answer me.”

“I—”

You swallowed. “I wanted to try.”

He laughed. Low. Dangerous. Pleased.

“Oh, I know,” he murmured. “My little bitch always wants a fight.”

He snapped his hips once—hard.

You screamed.

“But you forget—”

He growled into your skin.

“You were made to be conquered.”

He flipped you like nothing.

Bent over the sheets, thighs shaking, cheek pressed to the mattress while he slammed into you again, this time from behind—harder. Meaner.

The room shook with your moans. His name. The slap of skin.

“You wanted to be in charge?” he taunted. “Then cum when I say.”

“I—I can’t—”

He reached between your legs, rubbing your clit until you saw stars.

“You can,” he snarled. “Because I own this body. And it obeys me.”

You came on command.

Loud.

Messy.

Ruined.

And only then did he finally let himself fall over the edge, spilling inside you with a grunt, body locked to yours, arms caging you like the beast he is.

He didn’t pull out right away.

He laid over you, panting, heartbeat pounding through your back as he kissed your neck, again and again, slower now.

When he finally pulled back, he turned you to face him—eyes still molten, but softer. Different.

And he kissed your lips like they were precious.

“You’ll always be my woman,” he whispered. “But never forget…”

He traced your cheek.

“Even chaos bows to me.”

໒꒰ྀི ˶• ༝ •˶ ꒱ྀི১ hope you like it!!

be sure to check out my other stuff too <3

[writingduhh]

heyooo!! do u mind spewing some words for isaac x additional member of tgc, fem!reader?? thank uuuu 💗

I would absolutely looooveeee toooo

OMG YESSSSSS hope this is what you were wanting :)

Isaacwhy x Additional TGC Member

▷ You’re the wildcard of the group in the best way. You’re just as chaotic as the rest, but you also have moments where you keep everyone grounded.

▷ The boys see you as family. They tease you constantly but also fiercely protect you, especially if trolls or haters try to come at you online.

▷The Fans love how funny and relatable you are, as well as down-to-earth . Comments often saying, “She’s literally perfect, how did Isaac pull her?”

▷ Your banter with the boys is top-tier entertainment. You give as good as you get, roasting them just as hard as they roast you.

▷ The other members of TGC are both amused and slightly protective of your relationship. They’ll joke about Isaac being “whipped,” but deep down, they love seeing how happy you make each other.

▷ They joke about Isaac being “jealous” of how much time you spend with them. “If Y/N wasn’t dating Isaac, she’d be dating all of us,”

▷ On camera, your relationship with the boys is all laughs, chaos, and mutual teasing. Your playful roasts and your quick comebacks are fan favorites.

Off camera everyone is surprisingly more soft and friendly with one another. Whether it’s quiet nights cuddled up (platonically) watching scary movies, late night has station or food runs, or just hanging out in each others rooms. There is definitely more sweetness and camaraderie than shown on camera. 

▷ Same goes for your and Isaac’s relationship as well.

▷ On camera, your relationship is more tame and comedic. Off camera, though, he’s surprisingly very soft. Whether it’s quiet cuddle sessions after filming or late-night talks in your room, Isaac has a way of making you feel like the only person in the world.

▷ While everyone knows you and Isaac are “the” couple, they also love teasingly shipping you with other members (purely for comedic reasons). Isaac plays along but always gives side-eye to the camera.

The Groupchat podcast was in full swing, the boys seated around the table, mics on, cameras rolling. You sat next to Isaac, comfortably sipping your drink as the conversation spiraled into its usual brand of chaos.

“So, Y/N,” Larry started, leaning into his mic with a mischievous grin. “The fans wanna know: when are you finally ditching Isaac for Tanner ?”

The room exploded with laughter as Tanner immediately threw his hands up in mock celebration. “Finally! Someone’s addressing the real questions.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking. “Oh, totally. I’m sure T could handle me.”

“I could!” He declared, pounding his chest. “Isaac doesn’t appreciate you like I would.”

Isaac, sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed, rolling his eyes behind the sun glasses . “Right. And you’d do…what exactly?

Tanner stumbled over his words before throwing his hands in the air in defeat

“Alright fine you win… for now.”

Everyone at the table laughed.

And just like that, the conversation shifted to another ridiculous topic, leaving behind a trail of laughter. The fans definitely clip that exchange and posted it on social media.

▷ With Isaac as your boyfriend, it’s like the group doubled in absurdity. You both constantly bounce off each other with bizarre jokes and pranks. The rest of the house dreads when you team up for challenges or schemes because it “never ends well” for them, at least.

[bewitched-hours]

OKAY OKAY OKAY ZO Y'KNOW ONE OF MY FIRZT AZKZ ABOUT THE CREATION OF PURE LOVE! [READER]??

THINK ABOUT THAT BUT THEYRE A KILLER

LIKE THEYRE REALLY UNHEALTHY LOVE, MAYBE MANIPULATIVE LOVE, OR JUST CONTROLLING POZZEZZIVE LOVE?? (THEY DONT ACTUALLY CARE FOR ANYONE, EXPECT THEIR ZIBLING, 1X1X1X1. THEY JUST PRETEND THEY LOVE ZOMEONE TO MANIPULATE THEM HEHE)

THEY CAN BE LIKE THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE, TALL (ALMOST AZ TALL AZ GUEST 666), SCARY, DAMAGED WINGZ, DIGITIGRADE LEGZ (AND THEY ALMOST ALWYS ARE ON ALL FOURZ, BUT IT DOEZNT BOTHER THEM BC IF THEY ZTAND UP RIGHT FOR TOO LONG IT ZTARTZ TO HURT THEIR BODY EVEN MORE)

HEREZ ZOME KILL LINEZ OR ZOMETHING

Shedletsky: "I'm surprised Brighteyes still loves you, better change that, hehe.", "Oh look at you, still in love! Absolutely pathetic.", "We should've been dead a long while ago."(Callz themzelvez 'us', 'we', 'both', etc.), "Hmph! You should've known better, 'father'. Shouldn't have made us from your own lustful desires."

007n7: "Ah, no ones loved you yet? Ha!", "You'll always be alone for the rest of you pathetic life.", "Awh, c00lkidd still doesn't have a loving mother? Ha!", "Mm, your lonely life is very entertaining!", "You'll always be alone."

Guezt 1337: "Awh, does your wife still love you?", "Oh, you're married? Ugh, boring!", "Daisy still loves you? Pathetic!", "Eww, this ones married.. like someone I hate."

Noob: "Your love life sucks!", "You should really try dating.", "Jeeez, still alone? Loser!"

Chance: "Don't even try gambling a partner.", "How long will you keep trying for a partner? Just give up!"

Taph: "Communication is IMPORTANT for relationships!!", "Try actually SPEAKING up, if you want a partner."

Dusekkar: "No one wants your boring rhymes!", "You'll die alone.", "God, no one wants you.", "Look in a mirror, before you get out."

(THIZ IS PLATONIC!!!!!!!!!!)

Alzo, c00lkidd and [READER] are quite good friendz! Mostly because both of them have a child-like mind, but [READER] knowz they're killing people. Zometimez [READER] likez to let C00lkidd ride of their back when they feel like cauzing chaoz around them ;3

They don't.. like being around 1x1x1x1 too much... it really.. hurtz... love izn't zuppozed to hurt, right..?

They enjoy laying near John Doe when zleeping, like an overzized big dog!

They zometimez like to roughhouze with Guezt 666 when they feel like getting some energy out!

Mafioso and his goonz..? They.. like them. They're all fine. Not the biggest fan of them, however.

Jason and them are mostly friendly.

Bluudud and Pr33ttyprinc3ss? Pretty likes drezzinf them up in zome stuff! Bluudud likes to lay againzt them bc of their fur.

Fun factz: Since CK (c00lkidd) and them are zuch good friendz, zometimez [READER] lickz hiz head (like how a mother cat lickz her babiez!), and may do this if they like u :3 they alzo DONT like manipulating CK, zince they zee him az zomeone who they enjoy being around.

-Zanon

ZANON YOU ABSOLUTELY BLESSED ME WITH THIS TODAY-

EVEN THOUGH THIS ISN'T A PART 2, READER'S STILL GETTING THEY/THEM

Honestly, Shedletsky should've known that both of his creations would turn against him like this.

First 1x1x1x1, now you. The manifestation of his hate working together with its sibling, the manifestation of his love turned... Incredibly unhealthy.

Now, you weren't incapable of loving normally. You still showed a normal kind of love to the people you liked. 1x and the kids mainly.

But you were MASSIVE. With your twisted form, you almost reached guest 666's size and struck fear into survivors like it was your second nature.

But your body was still damaged. You couldn't fly and always had to be on all fours like an animal. Not that you minded since you could still carry the other killers around and be taken seriously when you needed to be.

1x was... Difficult, to say the least. Being a manifestation of hatred, there were few things you two actually agreed upon besides your mutual hate for your creator. But she was the only one you actually 'loved', in a sense.

It was actually a little funny. You were the younger one and yet he was smaller. Sometimes you'd theorize on why that was but mostly just to tease.

With the other killers, you were mostly friendly.

C00lkidd, Bluudud and Pr33ttyprinc3ss? You pretty much treated them as your own children, oddly enough.

CK would and you both had a child-like mind so you'd often let him ride on your back to cause chaos around the cabin. Much to 1x's disappointment-

BD would usually just chill and use your fur as pillows. Sometimes he even naps on you and you just kind of accept it and let out a low purring noise as you allow yourself some rest too.

PP usually just dressed you up and you would go along with it all joyfully. You were always proud of her work on you and wouldn't let any of the other killers even so much as chuckle about it.

John Doe was kinda like your first choice for napping besides BD, although he usually didn't really care about you or your fluff. You couldn't fault him since the Spectre practically took his brain.

Guest 666 was usually your go-to for some roughhousing to get all the energy out from rounds that ended too quickly for your liking. You were both so similar that it felt more like having two giant dogs in the cabin rather than legitimate killers at times.

Mafioso and his goons? They were alright, sometimes a little too loud for your liking but otherwise you just vibed with them. They even liked feeding you some of their food at times which you could appreciate.

Jason was probably the most chill. You two didn't interact much but you didn't dislike each other either so there was that.

But for some reason... Being around 1x... Hurt.

It wasn't even his comments or her actions... You just couldn't help but feel a strange pain around them...

You'd often wonder why 1x's presence hurt so much and tried to distract yourself by mocking survivors during chases.

Like telling 007n7 that he was destined to be alone, telling Guest 1337 about his marriage having been a mistake or even telling Chance that he'd gamble away any chance at finding love...

But your worst was always reserved for Shedletsky... You wanted him to hurt.

Reminding him of Brighteyes, telling him he was unworthy of love, reminding him why you and 1x existed and worst of all?

You'd allow him to see the ugly, self-loathing part of you that only him and 1x could ever know of.

A part that cried for what could've been if Shedletsky had bothered to be responsible.

A part that cried to be loved.

That inner child that still wished all of this was a terrible nightmare and that you would wake up with 1x to a life of normalcy. A life where you were a real family instead of this broken and fucked up battle that never ended.

Whenever you had a round with Shedletsky, you'd retreat to your own realm shortly after the round and would refuse to speak to anyone.

Your own creator made you break down and you'd have to calm down in a pretty little realm of your own where you would float on cloud that almost matched your fur and allowed you to temporarily forget your own vulnerability.

Other survivors you'd happily manipulate and mock but Shedletsky broke through all of it without even trying and made you return to that little kid that would cry and lash out at him because he took away all that could've been good.

And there was no doubt 1x knew...

kek- Maybe a part 2 will be in order~

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!