#i hope they have a good day (one is dead the other lost a life and both are severely traumatized)

[quinnonimp]

ok (<- crazy)

[thinkinonsense]

old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl *mdni

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something smutty so if it sucks im sorry lmao also if any writers have any tips please share! :)

logan has been around for long enough to know when a woman is attracted to him. there was a certain essence given off that was always a dead giveaway. usually it came from women close to the age he looked like and it tended to be brief moments of lust before all hope was lost. this was until he met you.

the pretty young girl working at the diner during her time off from college. everyday, he came in and ordered a black coffee. the coffee wasn't even that good but logan would spend two dollars every single day of his life if it came with the view of you bending over in that tiny uniform skirt.

logan would watch you for hours while he drank and skimmed the news paper alone in a booth. your hair was always up in either a ponytail or held together with a hair clip. he loved seeing your pretty handwriting as you scribbled on your notepad, taking orders. it was part of your job to be nice to everyone but you were especially nice to him. even your friends began to notice how you would linger by his table, constantly topping off his coffee mug and making small talk; sometimes giving him a slice of cherry pie on the house.

"don't you think he's kinda old for you?" one of your friends whispers to you behind the counter.

it's stung but you suppose she had a point. what would a man old enough to be your father want with a young wild girl like yourself?

"i-i guess so?" you stuttered, embarrassed at your previous attempt at flirting with him.

the rest of the night, you hoped he would leave before close so you could have some time alone with your feelings. summer was almost over and you would go back to the city soon. it was time to forget these silly fantasizes.

by ten, all the other waitresses went home except you, the older woman in the back who counted the drawer every night, and a few of the cooks. the only customer still there was logan. he flipped through one of the books he brought with him; still sipping away at that damn coffee.

"isn't it getting a little late for you, sweetheart?" he asked nonchalantly, not even looking up at you as you bent over to scrub the table next to his. the fifth table you've cleaned in the last hour and the second time you've cleaned that specific table. logan noticed but you didn't.

"need the hours." you mumble, frustrated by a stubborn stain. all logan could focus on was your scrunched nose and how your tight top pushed your boobs together just right for his viewing. "college is fucking expensive plus grants and scholarships only cover so much."

"hmm.." logan grunts. grants? scholarship? what a goody fucking two shoes, logan thought to himself. "if you bring me piece of pie, i think i can help you out."

you lean off the table and go get what's left in the glass container. it's probably a little hard so you definitely didn't plan on charging him for it. you sit the plate down in front of him and before you could turn around to walk away, logan reaches for your wrist softly.

"join me." he offers.

you knew you shouldn't but what was really the harm? at least your friends weren't here to make fun of you. the radio played quietly on an older station while you watched logan take a bite of the pie.

"why did your friends leave you here alone?" he asked, watching your face turn sour at the memory of them.

"don't wanna talk about it." your voice was small in the empty diner.

"why? think an old man like me can't relate to it?" logan chuckles. your thighs squeeze together without thinking. so much for not embarrassing yourself.

"no, no, not that." you shake your head and a strand of hair falls from your bun. "just sort of juvenile, you know?"

logan could tell that you were trying to come off more mature around him. you didn't want him to see you as some college kid.

"juvenile, how?" he eggs on, pushing down his glasses a bit.

god, those glasses got to you; and logan knew it.

"they don't understand how i feel about someone." you sigh.

"how do you feel about this person?" logan noticed you now avoiding his gaze, not liking it one bit. "eyes on me, princess."

the nickname caught you off guard like a dear in headlight; blinking and trembling up at logan. something logan enjoyed very much and could get used to.

"it's not important, just some stupid crush." you lie through your teeth. "they will forget about me in a month."

"why don't you think it'll work?" he cocks his head to the side a bit. "you're a pretty young thing, dollface. anyone of those college boys would be lucky to be wrapped around your little finger."

"i don't want college boys." you mumble, slightly annoyed by the memory of your friends.

logan felt himself getting hard at you admitting you had a taste for someone older. his eyes grew dark as he leaned in a little over the table.

"then what do you want?"

your moment to answer was interrupted by the older woman from the back, releasing you to go home for the evening. this was your chance to get up and leave before you admitted anything else that you would regret.

both of you stood up. logan threw down some cash while you went to collect your stuff behind the counter.

"i'll see you tomorrow, lo-"

"you didn't answer the question."

"i must go now if i want to catch the last train."

logan worried about you taking the train back to your apartment alone this late at night. usually you drive back but your car has been in the shop for almost three days now. he would watch you get to your car every night to make sure you were safe.

"i can drive you home." logan offers.

you shouldn't be this excited to be sitting in a strangers truck alone at night but here you were. the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before logan brought up the conversation from the diner again. what did you even want?

"i want someone who understands me..." you begin rattling off the first things that come to mind when you notice logan's hand on your knee. you don't dare move.

"someone who is responsible..." with every word, his hand creeps higher and higher up your skirt. logan is more than pleased when he notices your legs spread on their own.

"someone who is m-mature..." logan's fingers inch towards the delicate skin of your inner thigh. there's no way this was happening, you thought as his index finger plays with the lace on the center of your pink underwear. he smirked at the wet spot front and center, waiting for him.

"treats me r-r-right." every word was a struggle to form as he stroked you softly. back and forth. back and forth.

logan nods along, not letting up down below. his index finger hooks onto your underwear, pulling it aside. you weren't even sure if you were breathing at this point; all this teasing was torture.

"p-p-please, logan..." you whine. "touch me."

his thumb rubs tiny circles on your button, adoring the way his name pours from your glossy lips. your hands fly to his wrists, needing more; nails digging into his skin in the most delicious way.

"where did this greediness come from?" logan groans, dipping his index finger inside of you. "what happened to that good girl from the diner?"

logan's finger barely fit in the tight space. your head fell back and a loud moan escaped you.

"oh, you weren't letting those college boys touch you at all, huh?" logan mocks, adding another finger and creating a steady pace.

"n-no!" you whine, lifting your hips a little.

"you were waiting for a real man to have his way with you, isn't that right, pretty girl?" he growls, pushing your hips back down.

you completely missed logan pulling off to the side of the road until now. his pace increases becoming rather rough now that he isn't driving. logan leaves deep purple bruises down your neck and across your chest, praising you to no end until you gush around his fingers, completely soaking his palm.

your heart pounded like you had just finished a marathon. logan allowed you to catch your breath as he carefully removed his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick clean. he can feel your dazy eyes staring at him as he does so, making a real show of it.

"i've been wanting to do that for months now." he admits with a smirk.

"me too." you said, leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss; tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. logan wraps his hands around your hair, pulling you back a little when another moan falls from your lips.

"and we aren't even close to being done."

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi (Discord!) | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

[morganski-19]

part 1

The next day, there’s someone new to visit Steve. Making Wayne stop in his tracks on his third coffee run. The rumors were true, the Chief isn’t as dead as he was a year ago. Just lost what looks to be half his body weight and all of his hair. Looking gaunt and malnourished. 

But he’s alive. That has to count for something.

Wayne wishes the Chief was there to see him. Give him the key to unlock the chain around Eddie’s wrist. So he’d be able to wake up to a clean slate. That his record will be clear and he won’t get carted off to jail as soon as he’s stable. So Wayne will be able to bring him home. 

Once he has a home to go to. Not just a shitty hotel room that costs more than it should for a night. But it’s right next to the hospital, so Wayne can be here in five minutes if something happens. When his boy wakes up. He has to wake up. 

It’s been five days since Eddie was brought in. Twelve since Wayne saw him last. All he wants is to hear his obnoxiously loud music blaring down the hall while he’s trying to sleep. Or the laughter that could make him smile even when he didn’t want to. Wayne wants his Eddie back, the boy he watched grow all of these years. He’s not ready for the day Eddie wakes up and the light is gone from his eyes. 

Because it will be. Wayne’s seen enough people come back from combat a completely different person. With the scars that are sewn into Eddie’s torso, up his neck, one on his cheek. There’s no doubt that he’s been through something unimaginable. Life changing. 

As much as Wayne wants Eddie to wake up. He’s not ready for him to wake up changed. 

There’s a knock on the hospital door before it opens. Wayne’s expecting a nurse to check Eddie’s vitals, tell him the same shit they have for days. That all is good and he’s progressing. It should be any day now that he wakes up. If the damage to his body wasn’t too much for him. Those words of hope lack their meaning now. 

But instead of a nurse walking through the door, it’s the Chief. 

“Can I sit?” He motions to the chair next to Wayne.

“I suppose.”

The Chief sits next to Wayne, not looking at him. “I hear he’s been in a coma for a few days now.”

Wayne nods, not much in the mood for talking. Civilly at least. Push the right button and the volcano is about to burst. 

“I’ve known a few people who’ve been in medically induced ones like this. They all wake up in the end.”

“I’d like for the cuffs to be off his wrist when he does,” Wayne snaps. Knowing that the Chief has the key to unlock them. “That way he can recover as an innocent man. Like he should.”

The Chief takes a deep breath. “I’m not fully reinstated yet. I don’t have the authority to do anything about that. Even if-”

“Even if what?” Wayne looks at the Chief. Anger filled his voice. “Even if he’s innocent. I know he’s innocent. My boy, my boy could barely hurt a fly, let alone a living, breathing person. He was kinder than people gave him credit for. This town gave him so much shit that he didn’t deserve. Still is. When I’m afraid he might never wake up the same again. So I’d like the cuffs off, so he knows that some part of this town sees him as something other than a villain.”

Finally looking Wayne in the eyes, the Chief takes a second to think. Nodding his head in thought. “You smoke?”

Wayne scoffs. “That really what you're thinking of right now?”

“Answer the question.” Something about the Chief makes Wayne believe there’s more to his words. 

“I do.”

“Great,” he stands, waiting for Wayne at the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

Wayne gets up, mainly because he doesn’t really have a choice but also because he wants to see where this is going. They pass Harrington in the hall, talking to someone on the phone. 

“Yeah, I’m free tomorrow. Can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. No don’t do that. Cause I don’t think it’s time to throw a party yet, not while.” He makes brief eye contact with Wayne as they walk by. Before turning away. “Just won’t feel right without all of us.”

Wayne has no clue who he’s talking about, but it’s probably not Eddie. Hopes it isn’t. He still doesn’t know how he feels about this kid, even if he knows Eddie’s innocent. Doesn’t forgive him from his past, if rumors are true. And knowing who his dad is, Wayne wouldn’t be surprised if they all were true. 

The Chief leads him to the side of the hospital, where there’s no foot traffic. No one around to hear. Wayne suddenly understands what this might all be about. Something not for wandering ears. 

“What I say does not leave this conversation,” he starts, handing Wayne a cigarette. Lighting his own before passing the lighter to Wayne. “Got it?”

Wayne nods. 

“I know Eddie’s innocent. But there’s some weird shit that was happening around then that I cannot tell you about it. All you need to know is that the Feds are involved, and they’re looking for a fall guy. And I’m trying my hardest to make sure that the fall guy isn’t your nephew. So while it might not seem like it, some progress is being made. Your nephew will be a free man when he wakes up. I give you my word on that.”

“I don’t even know how to start processing what you just said.” Wayne takes a long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke blow out into the alleyway. 

The Chief laughs. “That was all of us the first time this happened. I’d say it gets easier but it really doesn’t.”

“The first time?”

“There’s a lot more to this town than meets the eye.”

“How do I know your word is any good?”

The Chief considers this for a moment. “You don’t really. But who else do you know who can fix this?”

With that, the Chief nods goodbye and heads to the parking lot. Leaving Wayne with more questions than answers, and a little flame of hope he’s wishing won’t get put out.

part 3

I don't know how many parts this will be but I do know they will be posted sporadically whenever I have time to write them. So, no promises of consistency.

also, tag list. I tagged anyone who asked/seemed interested in a part two. please let me know if you would like to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar

[starlightomatic]

hi, i just want to remind folks that a lot of people on here have personal connections to people who died or were kidnapped on october 7th. please keep this in mind when you want to understand why we react so much when people denying, minimize, or celebrate it.

a couple of months ago i met vivian silver's best friend. vivian silver was a long-time peace activist who was burned to a crisp so badly on october 7th that it took weeks to identify her body. my ex-boyfriend's family was friends with her as well, and they spent those weeks believing she was a hostage and hoping for her return, only to discover that she had been dead the whole time.

a couple weeks ago i met the sister of a nova festival survivor. she said that the hours when her brother was out of contact and they didn't know if he was alive or dead were both the shortest and longest hours of her life. another friend of mine lost five friends that day. yet another friend lost two friends who were on a biking trip in southern israel.

a couple who i know because they attended my childhood synagogue while in the US for two years lived in kibbutz nahal oz. they always told us how beautiful it was, and how they wanted us to visit it. now we can't; it's destroyed, with several of its residents killed. they and their two young girls miraculously survived after hiding in their safe room for ten hours before being rescued. a good friend of mine's boyfriend is from one of the kibbutzim that was destroyed, but he was not there at the time and so survived.

once, many years ago when the ex-boyfriend who i mentioned above (the one who knew vivian) were on a gap year in israel, i visited him on the kibbutz he was living on on a thursday night, and his friend gave us a ride to a bus station the next day to help us get to our shabbat destinations. the friend was headed on to visit friends at kibbutz be'eri, now destroyed, with over 10% of residents killed. i don't know if that man's friends survived.

another friend of mine, who was my coworker for several months when she was in the US last year, lived in metula in northern israel, on the border with lebanon. because of the war, she and many others are internally displaced within israel, because her home is not safe from rockets. recently, a mutual friend told me her house has been destroyed.

another friend of mine attended virtual synagogue with chaim katzman, a young man who spent time in the west bank protecting palestinian shepherds. when hamas fighters opened the closet he was hiding in to capture hostages, they shot him immediately, before taking hostage the women and children hiding in the closet with him.

in total, i have at least eight friends-of-friends who were killed on october 7th. the actual number is probably far higher, since i have a lot of friends in israel and many israelis lost people; but the eight is confirmed.

all of this to say: please understand when you're interacting with me and other jumblr bloggers that this is not theoretical to us. maybe to some of you, it's an academic excercise in seeing fanon's works in practice. maybe it's about decolonial theory and you might think "ah, well, decolonization is violent, what a shame but it was necessary." please remember it's easier to think that when you're not the one sitting at a shabbat lunch table with your mom's old friend who had to learn within the past few months that a woman she'd built movements with and was best friends with had been burned so badly she couldn't be identified for weeks.

i already know that people will believe the purpose of this post is to "generate consent for genocide" no matter what i say, but i'm going to say it anyway: nothing justifies genocide. nothing justifies the brutality that israel visits on the palestinian people. the people of gaza have gone through an order of magnitude more horror than what israelis have. the entire gaza strip is destroyed; people's homes, schools, mosques, orange orchards, everything. entire families have been killed with not a single surviving member. people have starved to death. people lack sanitation, menstrual products, and safe places to give birth. children are operated on without anesthesia. this is one of the greatest humanitarian crises of this century and it is israel's fault.

we need a ceasefire now; we needed a ceasefire yesterday; we needed a ceasefire months ago; we needed this never to begin. blowing up a child in gaza does not bring back vivian, it does not bring back chaim, it does not bring back my friend's cycling friends. it doesn't untraumatize the girl who waited hours to know if her brother was okay or the young family trapped for ten hours in their safe room. and i know for a fact that vivian and chaim would never have wanted this. not in their names, or at all.

so i am not posting this in an attempt to deny, minimize, excuse, or justify the genocide of the people of gaza, or to deny or excuse the nakba, the israeli raids in the west bank, settler violence, land theft both past and present, burning of olive trees, checkpoints and the restrictions on palestinian movement, the denial of right of return, and the fact that most palestinians do not have voting rights in the country that controls their lives.

i also understand that there are folks on here who have just as many personal connections to gaza -- or more -- than i do to israel. that it's deeply personal to them too, and they have watched as loved ones die, places they love and remember are bombed to dust, and people continue to minimize it, excuse it, or fight over semantics. i understand that this post will not land well for many of those folks, and that it will have activated people to hear me speak of nahal oz as a beautiful place i wanted to visit, because that land likely once belonged palestinian families, and was seized after its residents were herded into gaza during the nakba.

and.

people are human. humans deserve to live in safety. friends of humans who are harmed will feel pain, even if those friends lived on colonized land. i also live on colonized land, i am a settler. i live on the lands of indigenous peoples. when i looked up the nation whose land i live on, i can find information about their history but no information on where they went or whether they still exist. i don't know if they experienced a genocide and were all killed, or if they joined another people. i know i have never met any of them, and i live on their land.

and i'm not the only one. millions of people on this site are also colonizers of indigenous land. if you are not indigenous or Black, and you live in the US or Canada, you are every bit as complicit as my friends' dead friends in israel. your beautiful town is not morally better than nahal oz. you recognize yourself and your friends as people; you see their humanity.

i am beyond begging you to see the humanity of israelis, i think many of you can't. instead, this is my request:

remember, as you're doing your callouts, as you're describing me as evil and a person who needs to be blocked for the safety of your followers to i don't infect you or them with my evil:

i say and feel the things i do in large part from a traumatic event that occurred less than a year ago that i am personally connected to. please use what you know of trauma to understand that.

and then, if you can do that, maybe we can start to understand how trauma plays into why israel is the way it is; why trauma is actually the biggest player. so many of you have asked "how could a people who've been brutalized and oppressed brutalize and oppress another people?" my question: why would you expect that not to happen? trauma responses include fear, anger, aggression, compassion fatigue. when a population of descendants of refugees and genocide survivors, in a world that they believe to be out to get them, either supports or turns a blind eye to their government's atrocities, i am not surprised. saddened, but not surprised.

we then have to start asking: who enacted those traumas? when will we start to see the pain of both palestinians and israelis in light of the violence inflictated by far more powerful entities? by germany in the holocaust; russia and poland in the pogroms; swana arab countries in the persecution of jews post-WW2? who's at the top here? many of you are happy to believe it's jews pulling all the strings, but who set this in motion?

who denied jews safe haven before the holocaust, thus enabling this trauma to be inflicted in the first place? the US, and nearly all countries around the world. who restricted jewish immigration even post-holocaust, thus funneling huge numbers of jewish refugees into palestine, overwhelming the population even if israel had not been a colonial project? again, the US, and many other countries. who made double-promises and drew arbitrary lines in the region leading to decades of conflict? the UK.

who's funding this war? the US. Russia. Iran. don't be fooled that any of them care about israelis or palestinians. they have their own interests.

israelis and palestinians are the collateral damage in a horrible chess game that world powers have been playing for centuries. but they are not collateral damage, they are human beings, and their lives have value. collective liberation demands we look at the levels above the oppressor to see who is holding the strings, who put the puzzle pieces in place, who set off the levers and strings in a noxious rube goldberg machine that left nahal oz and be'eri in ruins and gaza destroyed almost beyond recognition.

my friends' little girls cowering in a safe room were never the enemy. chaim katzman hiding in a closet hoping the fighters would overlook it and leave him alive, or at very least capture him instead of kill him, was never the enemy. and they can't be; not if our goal is freedom and safety for everyone in israel/palestine. choosing who will dominate and who will be the oppressed minority in whatever comes next will not be the answer we need, and will not be liberation. just as zionism was not liberation. what can we build together, when this is all over?

what do we need to dismantle and destroy?

let's start with what we don't: homes. villages. cities. kibbutzim. orange trees. olive trees.

and who do we need to fight?

let's start with who we don't: the children.

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

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[brokenmenswhore]

Hey hey! I love your Aegon fics so much that I want to know if you would write a story where after your kid with Aegon passed away, he promised never to touch you again so you wouldn't have to endure bearing more of his kids and witnessing their death. But you yearn for your husband every night and will act dirty to make him touch you again. By acting dirty I mean doing sexy things to instigate him when he's alone with you.

of all the things in this life that i’m good at, being intentionally sexy is NOT one of them, so i’m hoping this isn’t awkward :) my biggest fear is that someone’s gonna not like what i write for their request i’m on my knees pls don’t hate me

all in | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targeryen x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of a deceased child, smut (MDNI 18+)

────── ☾ ──────

It had been three long, dark, and lonely months since the death of your son.

He passed away at only a few weeks of age due to health complications, and both you and your husband, Aegon, were left devastated.

Aegon had a tendency to blame himself for anything negative in his life, his self hatred running through the depths of his soul. Your son was his heir, and he felt as if he lost a piece of himself, and blamed himself for the health issues your child was having. “It must be from me,” he would whisper to himself, almost incapable of accepting that some things he could not be faulted for.

When Grand Maester Orwyle proclaimed your son dead, Aegon broke. He was hysterical, unable to speak, the only sound from his lips was an occasional scream of anger and sadness. You grieved in private, the joy you felt from your son’s birth still so recent that your stomach was still not yet back to a normal state.

The first few weeks were hard on both of you, but you at least attempted to lean on each other. However, Aegon was difficult to console when he got in his own head. You were both laying awake in bed, comforting one another when your hand ran across his chest, toying with his shirt. As difficult as the week had been, you were desperate to feel close to your husband in some capacity other than sadness and grief.

Aegon sighed and moved your hand away, rolling over on his side and turning his back toward you. You stayed stagnant and stared at him for a moment. “Aegon?”

“We can’t.”

“I know this grief is still very new, but I-“

“We can’t, ever.”

You sat in disbelief. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes at his words. You were in need of comfort, as was Aegon, and his declaration frustrated you. “And why not?”

“I refuse to risk putting you through this again.”

You were speechless. You tried to think of something to say, a few small noises leaving your lips as you tried to begin a sentence, but to no avail.

Aegon could hear your attempts. “What you have been through these past few weeks- I cannot watch you bear another one of my children, only to endure the pain of losing them again. I have never seen you happier than the day our son was born, and now-“ Aegon’s voice trailed off, “It is not worth the risk.”

Tears of sadness and frustration were now freely falling, Aegon’s back still to you as you spoke, “you do not seriously intend for us to never be intimate again. For the rest of our lives, Aegon, I need you. I am all in. Are you not? Do you not need me as well?”

“I need to relieve you of this pain more,” he responded, “and there are more than enough whores in King’s Landing.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his final comment. You couldn’t believe he said such a thing. You knew he was hurting, and oftentimes pushed you away when he was, and you decided to assume it was an intentionally harmful comment meant to do just that. You chose to believe that he didn’t really mean it, but you still wished he didn’t say it. You understood his pain, but that didn’t make it alright to take it out on you.

You didn’t dignify his comment with a response, you simply rolled out of bed, fighting to maintain your composure as you walked out of the room, slowly shutting the door behind you.

The next morning, you returned to your shared chambers to ready yourself for the day, and Aegon was already up and dressing.

“Where did you sleep?” he asked.

You untied your robe as you approached the outfit laid out for you by your handmaidens. Handmaidens stopped assisting you and Aegon without being called into the room, as per your marital request.

“Elsewhere,” you stated.

Aegon sighed. “That is not an answer.”

“Why should it matter to you? If you get lonely, you can simply bed your whores,” you spat, throwing his comment from last night back at him.

Aegon didn’t handle you being mad at him very well. He needed everyone to like him at all times, but he didn’t cherish anyone’s opinion of him as much as he did yours. Knowing you were upset with him killed him.

“Do not be upset with me,” he pleaded, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Oh? I thought we were not to touch each other any longer?”

Aegon retracted his arms, moving directly next to you so he could catch your eyes. “I don’t want you to be upset,” he said.

“Then do not promise to deprive me of something you and I both want and need.”

“I cannot put you through this again. Do you not understand that? Whatever is going on within me, it passed something bad down to our child, and if we remain intimate I risk you falling pregnant with another child we will inevitably lose. As your husband, it is my duty to ensure you do not have to go through such a thing again.”

“It is out of your control, Aegon,” you said, your voice low as you held his face in your palms, “and it is not your fault.”

He held onto your wrists, but didn’t move your hands. “This decision is not meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” Aegon was set in his decision, which meant that there was no point in arguing with it right now. You did not have the energy.

────── ☾ ──────

The next several weeks were filled with longing, your heart and body yearning to be close to your husband, now that it had been three whole months since your son passed.

You didn’t press the subject with Aegon, allowing him room to breathe. It was difficult, and you found yourself needing him more and more the longer you went without him.

You knew that despite his decisions, you always had power over Aegon. He was completely enamored with you, and oftentimes changed his mind to match yours. When he made decisions you didn’t agree with, it took a hell of a lot of fighting to get him to falter, but it was not always impossible. This particular instance couldn’t be impossible- you couldn’t survive without him.

“We we supposed to depart last hour!” Aegon called out to you, waiting by the door with his guards for you, the hour getting later and later. House Dondarrion was hosting the Targaryen family for supper at Blackhaven as a gesture of appreciation for the King’s assistance in the Stormlands.

Your handmaidens tightened and tied the final strings of your corset. It was new, and made specifically for you, only this time, you made special requests. It was the standard green and gold, and still kept you covered, but less so than usual. The garment left your chest nearly exposed, just as you had planned.

“They must have forgotten your measurements, Your Grace, there is not nearly enough fabric,” one of your handmaidens spoke, fidgeting with the seam on your cleavage.

“It will do just fine, thank you very much,” you said, “we must be going.”

You were escorted to meet up with your husband, who couldn’t look away from you the moment you came into view.

“What the fuck is this?” he whispered the moment you were next to him.

“What ever do you mean?”

“Everyone here can see too much of you in that,” he continued.

You shrugged your shoulders, playing nonchalantly dumb. “They must have forgotten my measurements.”

You gazed up at him, and he could tell you were playing him. He knew you well enough to tell.

“What are you trying to do?”

You brushed your hair from your neck to behind your shoulder, making even more skin come into view. “Waiting to leave. We are already behind, are we not?”

You started to walk away, but Aegon grabbed your arm and pulled you back. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to let you leave in such a thing.”

“It is not your choice.”

Aegon knew that despite the roles placed on both of you from a very young age, he couldn’t control you if he tried.

Throughout supper, Aegon was on alert to the gazes of other gentlemen upon his wife. Many approached you two to offer their condolences for the loss of your son, making you tense up and your breathing quicken from stress, which only made your chest more obvious.

You could tell Aegon was bothered, but that’s what you wanted, so you made no effort to be modest.

“Rather lewd tonight,” Aemond said, standing behind your chair, greeting you for the first time all night, “don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,“ you responded, taking a sip from your cup.

Aemond leaned down next to your ear and whispered, “What’s he done then, hm?”

You giggled at the question, Aemond smiling as he stood tall and moved to greet the people next to you, ending your interaction. Aegon couldn’t hear what Aemond said, but Aemond being so close to you and whispering in your ear angered him.

“What did he say?” Aegon asked, unable to help the curiosity.

“Nothing of importance,” you said, remaining stoic.

Aegon’s nostrils flared as another member of House Dondarrion approached the table.

Aegon remained observant the entire night, a possessiveness consuming him as he intentionally stared at anyone who gawked at you, his gaze intimidating them into looking away.

When you returned to King’s Landing, you retreated to your shared chambers.

“It does not befit a queen to dress in such a vulgar way. I cannot fathom why you would do such a thing tonight,” Aegon said.

You poured two cups of wine as you replied, “you cannot fathom? Dear husband, I think you can. Take a guess as to why I may behave as such.”

You handed Aegon one of the cups, taking a sip from your own and intentionally tilting it too far upward, the red liquid spilling down your neck and onto your chest.

“Fuck, what a shame,” you spoke, placing the cup down and moving your hair behind your back.

Aegon watched you swipe a thumb over your bottom lip and suck the wine off of it.

“Stop it,” he warned.

“Stop what? You cannot expect me to just stand here covered in wine,” you quipped, “do you happen to have a cloth?”

Aegon retrieved an used cloth from the table next to you, holding it out to you, as if to say ‘here’s the cloth you absolutely knew was there and only made me grab to mess with me.’

“I can’t see my own neck,” you said, “help me?”

Aegon sighed in frustration, moving the cloth to clean your chin, then your neck, moving it lower and lower. He watched the muscles in your neck flex as you swallowed, and he didn’t even think about holding his actions back before his lips were on your neck, cleaning off the wine with his tongue.

Your mouth opened and a small sigh left your lips, the feeling of his mouth on you after so fucking long making you needier than usual.

Aegon moved down to your breasts, licking and kissing the top flesh of one of your breasts before jolting back and wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “No.”

“Aegon-“

“Please, I don’t think I’m strong enough for this.”

Aegon dropped the cloth back onto the table and marched out of the room, leaving you worked up and your breasts coated in wine. You let out a disappointed huff as you called your handmaidens in to run you a bath, hoping it would help you relax.

The next morning, Aegon had council business to attend to all day, but he had made an unfortunate mistake when you first wed: he told you that you were always welcome in council meetings, and that he would cut out the tongue of anyone who tried to speak against your presence there.

You swung open the doors to the council room, all heads turning toward you as you walked over to your husband.

“What is it?” Aegon asked, sitting taller and taller the closer you got to him.

“You said I was always welcome in these meetings, Your Grace.”

You seldom ever called Aegon by his title, but you knew that doing so drove him crazy. You noticed him shift slightly in his chair.

“The current matter of discussion is rather important,” he said.

“I would hope so, you’ve been in here all day,” you said, gripping the back of Aegon’s chair and pulling it with all your might, a seated Aegon inching a tiny bit away from the table. You were giving it your all, but could only move the chair a small amount back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, as the rest of the council just watched the scene play out. They knew better than to question you in these meetings.

You then sat yourself directly on Aegon, adjusting yourself so that you were comfortable in his lap, but he could still see the table. You were acting immature, but that was the point.

“This is entirely inappropriate,” he whispered into your ear, evidently tense. He was genuinely annoyed at you for sitting on his lap in the middle of a council meeting, but you didn’t care.

“I thought that was something you liked about me?” you whispered back into his ear.

You made brief eye contact. Aegon didn’t want to embarrass you in front of the Lords at the table, so he maintained a whisper. “Get up.”

You smiled, making the council think you were not in an argument, but rather exchanging a few private sentences before returning to duty. You leaned your head back so you were in his ear again. “No.”

“Your Grace,” Lord Commander of the King’s Guard and Hand of the King, Criston Cole, interrupted, “forgive me, but this is rather urgent.”

“Right then,” Aegon said, turning his attention back to the meeting as you remained on his lap.

The men all began to speak of war strategy and politically advantageous pairings, Aegon’s arm instinctively finding its way around your waist to keep you in place.

Every few minutes, you shifted your positioning, intentionally grinding down on his cock. He gripped your waist to try to stop you every time, but it never worked.

When the meeting was finished, you hopped up and left the room before Aegon could catch you.

Later in the day, he caught you walking alone to the library, and he pulled you into an adjacent hallway.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he warned, “that little stunt you pulled during my council meeting? Never again.”

“I do not know to what you refer,” you said, slowly pulling up one side of your dress, revealing more and more of your thigh until your entire leg was exposed, giving you room to dip your fingers underneath your dress.

“What are you-“

“It seems as though I’ve forgotten to put on anything under this dress,” you said, looking up at Aegon through hooded eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, watching your hand disappear fully underneath your dress.

“Would not have to, if only I found myself a husband to do it for me.”

“Don’t,” Aegon demanded, grabbing your wrist and stilling your hand.

“Please,” you pleaded, desperation in your eyes as Aegon looked at you, nearly breaking.

Instead, he dropped your wrist, walking away from you again and leaving you alone.

────── ☾ ──────

When Aegon entered your chambers that night, you were already bathing. You were resting your head against the cool metal of the bathtub, your knees visible over the water, your body partially covered by the weak bubbles on the water’s surface. You opened your eyes when you heard the door open, and Aegon approached you, pulling one of your handmaiden’s stools next to the tub and taking a seat.

“What is it, Aegon?” you asked, re-relaxing and closing your eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and you didn’t see it, but his eyes ran up and down the length of your body as he spoke.

“Bathing?” you answered, almost more of a question than an answer. What you were doing was blatantly obvious, so the question confused you slightly.

“If this is another one of your dirty tricks, it won’t work.”

You let out a deep breath. “It’s not, I really just wanted to relax.”

You opened your eyes, and Aegon cocked an eyebrow at you. “I’m serious, Aegon. I’ve tried enough, and it has not worked. I give up. That’s what you wanted, right?”

You meant it. You were tired of trying to work him up, instigate something, or be lustful, if it was never going to work. You were tired of throwing yourself at someone who clearly did not want you anymore.

Aegon didn’t respond, he just continued to watch you as you closed your eyes again, relaxing into the water. He could see most of your body beneath the surface of the clear liquid, the bubbles almost entirely dissipated.

You heard a small whisper of your name, but you kept your eyes closed, allowing yourself to continue winding down for the night.

Aegon reached out to run his hand over your knee, and the feeling made you jolt slightly, your eyes opening at the sudden contact. You gave Aegon a confused, somewhat concerned look.

“You would truly risk experiencing the tragedy of losing our son again?” he asked, his voice the smallest you’d ever heard it, “just to have me?”

You placed your hand on top of his. “What happened was out of our control. If the gods did not intend for him to be your heir, so be it. It cannot be a fault of our own. We did not bring it upon him, Aegon. We have no knowledge of what could happen given another heir, and this tragedy is not reason enough for me to give up on having children. I think it unfair of you to make such a drastic decision on my behalf. If you do not wish to be intimate with me because you yourself do not desire it, then so be it, but you do not get to make these decisions for me. I did not choose to be without your touch, Aegon, and it is unfair for you to choose it for me.”

It was the most you’d said at one time since your son died.

“I miss you,” you added.

A tear fell down Aegon’s cheek. “I never want to see you in pain again.”

“There is no guarantee you would. There is not even a guarantee I will fall pregnant again.”

Aegon knew you were right. He was making decisions for you, and he knew he had no right to, he was just so scared. He hated seeing what losing your first son did to you, and he thought he was doing right by you by not risking a pregnancy and then loss of another. He did not realize the damage he was doing.

He was lost in his thoughts, and you took his silence to mean that he was sticking to his word. “Please just let me rest, Aegon, I do not wish to rehash the same argument again.”

You fell back into your relaxed position, removing your hand from Aegon’s and resting both of your hands on either side of the metal tub.

Aegon only spoke a small whisper of your name again before moving his hand down your leg, sinking beneath the water. You maintained your position. He made it clear to you he did not want intimacy anymore, so why would he actually be doing something intimate?

You were caught by surprise when his hand reached between your legs and he ran a finger between your folds. You inhaled a sharp breath, your eyes remaining shut as the feeling was too good. Even if this stopped right now, you needed to make the most of the feeling while you had it.

Only, it didn’t stop. Aegon continued to feel you, circling his finger around your clit, causing your head to fall back even further as a soft whine left your lips. Aegon hadn’t heard the sweet sound of your whines and moans in ages, and one tiny noise from you made him completely forget why he ever vowed to keep himself away from you.

The water was sloshing slightly as Aegon moved his hand, inserting a finger into your hole as his thumb took residence on your clit, keeping the stimulation there as he began to push a finger in and out of you.

He watched you writhe in the water, your hips beginning to grind up into his hand. “A-Aegon,” you tried to catch his attention, but he was so consumed in you that he took it for a moan.

He leaned over you, his face mere inches from yours. “Say my name again.”

“A-Aegon, I was t-“

Aegon cut you off by kissing you, catching you off guard and making you squeal with surprise into the kiss. He began to move his hand faster and faster, the water nearly spilling out of the tub from the movement of his arm.

You moved to grab his wrist, and he pulled away from your mouth briefly to inspect your face and make sure you were alright.

“As much as I want you,” you breathed out, “I don’t want to do anything unless you do as well.”

Aegon didn’t verbally respond, as he often didn’t, but instead kissed you, hard. You held the back of his head, deepening the kiss as he added another finger into you, a moan escaping your throat into the kiss, only egging Aegon on more.

“Fuck,” you whimpered when Aegon pulled away.

He leaned down to kiss your neck, not caring at all about the water hitting the side of his face and drenching his hair.

You moaned and whined as his fingers fucked you at a violent pace, curling when they hit the sweet spot within you that had your breathing nearly stopping for moments at a time.

“Aegon, I’m-“

Aegon lifted his head so that he was looking directly at you. Your eyes squeezed shut as your climax hit you hard, Aegon removing his hand from you to grip either side of your face and kiss you as your orgasm washed over you, your juices mixing with the bath water.

Aegon softened the kiss as he felt your breathing calm down, only pulling away when your muscles released their tension beneath him.

“Thank you,” you sighed.

“Get out of this thing,” Aegon said, standing up and holding out both of his hands to you.

You placed your hands in his, allowing him to help pull you to a standing position. You shivered as the cool air hit your bare, wet skin. You stepped out of the bathtub, anchoring your balance on Aegon. When you stepped onto the ground, Aegon pulled your waist against him so quickly that you nearly fell over.

“If you’re all in, I’m all in,” he spoke.

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m all in. Always have been.”

Aegon leaned down to kiss you again, backing your bodies up slightly so that you were standing directly next to the stool.

Aegon then became almost carnal, having been without you for so long that he was too impatient now to wait any longer.

Aegon pulled you away from him and spun your body around, pushing you down until you were bent over the stool he was sitting on mere moments ago.

He undid his breeches and pushed his clothing down, leaving his lower half exposed.

He held a hand out in front of your face. “Spit.”

You did as you were told, giving him the lubricant that he spread on the head of his cock as he lined himself up with your entrance. He began to push into you slowly for a moment, before slamming his entire length into you.

You cried out at the feeling. One of his hands gripped your waist while the other fisted into your hair, pulling your neck back as he fucked you from behind. He was snapping his hips from the first thrust on, the pressure causing your body, and subsequently the stool, to shift forward with each hit.

“F-fuck,“ you moaned, “I missed y-you, Y-our Grace.”

The title only made him more feral, his grip on your hips destined to bruise you as he slammed into you viciously. He growled and groaned behind you, subconsciously trying to make up for months of deprivation.

You came again, the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock like a vice pushing him over the edge, despite the sex not lasting long at all. His body was in desperate need of you.

He bottomed out inside of you as he came, spilling his seed within you as he calmed down for a moment before pulling out of you.

He released his grip on your hair, allowing you to push yourself up. You nearly lost your balance, but Aegon caught your waist with his arm.

“I missed you too,” Aegon spoke, “what a fucking idiot I am.”

“Yeah, but that’s not new,” you teased, giving him a sweet kiss to show your forgiveness.

[voxmortuus]

May I have a piece where Soldier Boy reminds you where you belong? 😔💚

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Soldier Boy x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Boys ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 1.2k ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Dominant Solider Boy | Submissive Reader | BDSM Themes | Face Grabbing | Spitting | Boot Licking | Oral (Male Recipient) | P-i-V | Cream Pie | Implied Aftercare | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ I hope this brings you some joy. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @castiel ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

You've been feeling lost, a little out of your element, you've been feeling like everything has been in disrepair in your life, and you're feeling like you're ready to snap. It was easier when you didn't think about being with someone else, someone else was always going to disappoint. You had these expectations, and you constantly questioned if they were worth having because you're always being let down. You felt like you were at a dead end, you felt like maybe being what you are, who you are, wasn't worth it anymore. Little did you know, Solider Boy wasn't having any of that.

It was one of those days where you questioned most things, you questioned why things were going the way they were going, you had no answer, other than feeling like this was your fault. Sitting there you set your book down beside you and lean forward and rub your face. Leaning back in the chair you look outside studying the environment around you. Making a small face you were jolted by the door closing heavily and the sound of boots walking across the kitchen floor of your apartment.

"Hey, you're home..." you point out looking up at him, a small almost painted smile spread on your lips.

"Of course, I'm home." he stated looking over your face as he leaned against the door jamb.

"Well, that's good."

"You didn't greet me like you usually do." he pointed out with a slightly furrowed brow.

"No. No I guess not." you state placing your hands in your lap.

"And why not?" he asked.

"Well why should I?" you ask with a furrowed brow.

"Because that's what you do, always, never changes. So why change it now?"

"Because I want to. I don't belong to you." okay, at this point, you knew you were pushing his buttons, but you were doing it for a reason.

"You want to repeat that again?" he asked you, more like he was giving you the opportunity to change your answer.

"Because. I. Don't. Belong. To. You." you state, looking directly at him.

"You don't do, you? Hmm, strange, that's not what you had stated a few months ago." he pointed out.

"How precious." you scoff a bit. "That was then, things changed." you bite with a soft quip.

It was then you knew you crossed that line, and you were begging for it. Licking his lower lip, he crossed his arms tightly against his chest. He knew the game, but you crossed a line, and like hell, he was going to let you get away with any of it. Walking to you a little closer, he looks down at you.

"Kneel." he demands.

With a small smirk on your lips, you slowly do as you're told. Your gaze holds his slowly as you sink to your knees. Watching him intently, he points to his boots.

"Clean them, and don't miss a spot." he states.

You weren't reluctant, in fact, you felt your flesh growing hot at the idea of it all. Biting your lip, you slowly lower yourself, your arms move to the floor as you hover above his black military boots and gaze up a moment before you proceed to clean his boots. Your tongue is flat against the leather as you lick the material. Slight dirt, but nothing you can't handle.

Once you clean one boot, you move to the other. You feel yourself excited by this, feeling this tingle between your legs. You finish looking up at him, waiting for his approval. When he looks them over, you watch as he moves his hands to unzip his pants. You tilt your head, and he looks at you as if you know what to do, and boy do you.

With nothing but a moment, your hands move to release him from his jeans and boxers. Looking over the length, you can't help but mentally giggle. Fuckin hell. This man's cock was a goddamn masterpiece. You slowly began to work him, feeling the glorious flesh harden in your grasp as you slowly started to lick the length. His smooth hardening flesh against your tongue was warm against your wet muscle. You hear him groan softly as you take the tip between your lips, slurping down his length like the good little cock worshiping slut you are.

With every bob, every slurp, and bit of drool that escaped your loose lips as you pressed him to the back of your throat caused him to groan and caused your swollen lower lips to quiver with anticipation of being a good enough girl to feel that cock in other places. It was that moment when you realized this is where you will always belong, and there was no question about that. You didn't have to, nor did you want to question it.

He didn't want to release, not in your mouth, no, he wanted to fill that tight little hole between your legs. Standing you up, after pulling his cock from your cock holster, you whimper slightly. Feeling as he slips the old t-shirt from your body and tosses it to the floor. Lifting you, he places you on the counter, and without a second thought, he presses the head of his cock against your tight slit and slips right on in as if it was made for this. Made for him.

With a soft whimper, you clench your muscles around his hard, slippery cock. At first, his thrusts were steady and paced, but that was short-lived. They became quick and rough, and that's when you realized even more that this wasn't for you. You were his free-to-use fuck doll, and you were living for it.

With each rough thrust came a whimper from your lips, a grunt from his. Your hands and nails pressed against his arms, you sat there, on the counter, letting him use you. Dripping between your legs. His thrusts didn't let up, and reaching up he grabbed your face. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Looking into his eyes, you watch as he leans forward and spits in your mouth. Laying his claim in more than one way.

You swallow and moan as he presses his lips against yours, feeling your release so close, you knew to hold off. Whimpers and moans picked up in rhythmic manners as he picked up his pace. Thrusting harder against your walls, he grips your thighs tighter, spreading them a little further as he drives his cock deeper into you, flesh slapping against each other as he tells you to release.

Without a second thought, your head drops back, and you begin to quake. A loud, merely screaming moan escapes your lips as you both begin to ride out your finish. You feel this sudden eruption between your legs, hot ribbons of liquid spewing in between your lower lips, as you hear him growl and shove himself deeper inside you, filling you, mixing your fluids with his as it seeps out around his cock.

Feeling his mess dripping from you as he slowly pulls he looks over your face and smirks.

"Now, tell me..." you cut him off.

"I belong to you, and I will absolutely do better." You beam a panting smile.

"That's my Buttercup. Now, let's go get you taken care of. Shower, snack, and video games yeah?" He asks with a smirk.

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 4

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting

I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.

Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako

Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans

LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.

[dark-and-kawaii]

꧁༺ 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 ༻꧂

Astarion loses sight of you in a fight, he fears the worse has happened to you. He finds you and manages to bring you back to shadowheart for healing, only to discover he has more to protect than just you…

Angst - Hurt - Comfort - Pregnancy

(Click For Part Two)

You were fearless. He watched as you swung your dagger effortlessly, piercing into the necks of their enemies.

He wondered how you still managed to look elegant even when covered in the blood of fallen warriors.

His gaze never left you for too long, making sure you were safe, while he stealthed around the makeshift arena, racking up his own share of kills. How glorious this was! There was so much blood splattering all around them and with his love at his side it truly couldn’t get any better.

Astarion’s eyes couldn’t be everywhere though, and at some point, he lost sight of you. The last person to recognize him for what he’s worth, the one person he truly couldn’t afford to lose.

His head darted across the battlefield, desperately trying to find you. His panic plunged into sheer dread as fear overcame him. It was happening all over again, he’d seen this before… Alone.. No, please, he couldn’t let this be his fate.

He hadn’t felt fear this whole day; why should he? He was free of Cazador, had you- A subtle manic laugh drew from his throat, he’d never be free of fear, instead of fearing for himself or what his old master would do to him he now feared what would happen to you when in danger.

His red eyes turned a dark shade of black. The expression of a crazy man etched onto Astarion’s face. No, he wouldn’t let fear consume him, no more! He’d finally be the protector! Overcome with fury he went on a rampage. Cutting through the battlefield, slaughtering anyone and everyone in his way, determined to find you. He raced over to where he last saw you, faster than a blue dragon's lightning splits through the air in a storm.

Was he truly going to be the reason you passed on to the next life. Was his fate to destroy everything he held near and dear to his heart? He nearly killed you before with his own fangs and now, no! He wasn’t the cause of that, was he? He hadn’t ever tasted human blood before, but if he was stronger it wouldn’t have happened! If he would’ve ascended he would’ve been able to stop this, however he’s still just a spawn… How could you have fought for his love, a fool who couldn’t even protect you. A fool who was going to be the reason you die.

“FIND HER” He roared at the top of his lungs. “FIND TAV!”

The group of companions didn’t dare hesitate and instantly started searching the grounds, Gale being the second most worried.

Astarion was about to collapse to his knees before hearing Gale's voice, “I’ve found her!” in the distance. It filled him with more apprehension. All he could think is, ’what if she’s dead’.

Staggering up the hill where Gale’s voice had come from, Astarion can see a figure laying in the dirt next to the wizard, “No! You can’t die dammit! Get up!!” he rushed out his words, dismay evident in his tone as he knelt next to you.

“She is unconscious, but alive. There’s hope.” Gale replied.

Astarion let out a shaky breath of relief.

“We must get her back to camp,” Astarion demanded. “She needs Shadowheart, she’s the only one who can fix this!” His voice cracked despite his efforts to mask it.

“I agree.” Gale, mere inches from grabbing you to lift you in his arms until the pale elf stopped him, “Don’t touch her!- I- I will carry her.” Trying to compose himself he lifted you bridal style.

Astarion never left your side during Shadowhearts attempts to heal you. Time never bothered him, not after his 200 years of torment, he waited as “patiently” as he could.

“Honestly, how long does it take! You could at least give me some good news!”

Shadowheart continued to focus on you best she could, everyone including the gods were used to Astarions fits at this point. Gale on the other hand not so much, he could hear Astarion all the way in his own tent which caused the wizard to scrunch his nose. Eventually, leading him to where you were being treated, “Astarion, why don’t you join me in some wine. I’ve got quite the choices, besides… It might be best if we give her some space.”

Astarion scowled, “You expect me to leave her side to join you in some cheap wine? Really? I didn’t think you could get anymore annoying, Gale.”

“It’s done. She’ll be fine after some more rest.” Shadowheart stood from your side and wipes the blood off her hands. She’s been traveling with you and these two men for far too long, toning out their bickering was a skill of hers at this point.

Turning to face you, if his heart could beat he knows it would’ve dropped in his chest this very moment… “Leave us-“ kneeling down next to your bedroll, his eyes fixed on your bandaged wound, “please.”

“I was able to save her,” -Shadowheart bent down towards Astarion- “and the child, but it took most of my energy and resources… Don’t ask for me again for a while. Keep them both safe.”

He was quiet, his eyes wide after the news he was just told.

“Ahhh,” Shadowheart’s voice was surprised, “she didn’t tell you yet? Hmm or perhaps she hadn’t known yet? Curious.”

Astarion could only stare at his love, “A-are you for certain?”

Gale interjected, “I doubt her magic would deceive her, congratulations.”

Dark bruises and cuts decorated your once perfect skin. A deep purple shade surrounded your right puffy eye. His eyes traveled further down your body, stopping at your stomach.

He caressed your still flat stomach, causing you to wince and awake. Retreating his hand, he awaited for your eyes to open and look up at him.

A-Astarion?” You spoke with a small smile carved on your lips.

“Yes, my love. It’s me.” He struggled out, trying his best not to crumble.

You were both silent, hands entwined with one another thankful that you both can spend another day alive in the presence of another.

He was the first to break the silence, “thank you.”

You were so weak, but you wanted to know why he was thanking you out of the blue, “For what?” Your voice barely heard.

“For this,” his hand stretching out to rest on your abdomen, “for giving me purpose again.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, not knowing what he was talking about until it finally hit you. Your arm wavered as you lifted it to place your hand atop of his on your belly. A gentle smile forming on your lips as you stared into his vermilion eyes.

When your breath became labored indicating you had fallen asleep again, Astarion’s attention was back at your torso where the bandage was slowly being stained by your blood. This moment of relief turned to anger again as he lashed out, slapping a metal canister of water out the tent with force. The absolute intrigued him at first, more power meant being stronger to protect you, but now… He was beyond ever considering it again. The cultist not only almost killed you, but the child growing from within you!

“How dare they…” He seethed, “How dare they harm her and my child!”

Astarion was pacing around angrily, how could he have allowed this to happen? He started to blame himself.

“Astarion-“ You spoke up, attempting to calm him down.

“I’ll show them, my love-“ he cut you off, “that nobody is allowed to touch what is mine.” He growled.

His eyes darkened again: “I’ll make them pay.”

[leviathanspain]

his embrace

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: finnick odair, capitol sweetheart and the thorn in your side

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

standing on the plate, you nearly broke your neck looking for him. frantically you looked, your eyes straining to see across the water, it was no use as the timer went off, and you had forced yourself to dive into the water.

your lungs felt like the could burst, but you ran towards the cornucopia, lifting yourself just over the edge only to be pulled back into the water. a career tribute was on you, you could tell as you fought him in the water. but you were losing, as you weren’t able to catch your breathe before you had been pulled back in.

only did the sight of a knife though the career’s chest did you feel some relief. someone had saved you. your body relaxed slightly, and your chest stopped trying to fight for the oxygen, and your eyes closed, your body feeling heavy as you passed out.

the buzzing of arguing flooded your ears. water had them plugged, and as you sat up, coughing up water, you heard the arguments cease, as other tributes rushed to your aid.

finnick was the first you saw, and he grabbed your shoulder, patting your back as you tried to spit out all the water.

you took a good inhale of the air and realized that you were deep in the jungle. along with finnick was katniss and peeta.

without saying anything, you embraced finnick. finnick laughed, hugging you tightly.

you pulled back and kissed him, “i thought i was dead. no one this pretty would be in my version of the afterlife.”

finnick laughed, “you wound me, darling.”

katniss and peeta shared a look, but stayed silent. suddenly the reasonings for why finnick had argued with them to keep you alive was now ever so obvious.

you looked at them, almost forgetting they were there. “katniss, peeta. normally my greeting wouldn’t be so half assed but, then again i’m not normally fighting for my life.” you offered a smile and only peeta gave back a weak one.

days and events had passed by you, and you were getting more and more irritated with your situation. you didn’t think that you would end up arguing with finnick over your safety, after offering to head into the jungle for some wood to build a fire.

“i can do it, finnick.” you rolled your eyes, hoping that he would relent as he usually did. but he wasn’t going to this time, especially with such danger all around.

“no. i alreayd lost mags, i cant lose you.”he shook his head, and you rolled your eyes, “finnick, do i have to remind you that i’m not entirely defenseless? i won my games too.”

but finnick wasn’t budging, and instead he pulled you back towards katniss and peeta, “i said no. im not letting you go in there.”

“if you’re jealous that i’m the one with a cool nickname just say so, don’t start acting like some sort of keeper.” you grabbed one of the knifes he had lying around on the beach and moved into the jungle, “don’t wait up.” you called.

finnick had followed you in, but you had mastered silent footsteps, and you were hard to track.

as you ventured deeper into the jungle, you felt regret in your stomach as you thought about finnick. you had disregarded his comment about mags, and you felt like an asshole.

you stopped, and thought about going back. but you had already left, and you couldn’t go back empty handed. but the screams are what sent you into a run. his screams, your name in the screams had you screaming back.

“y/n! help me!” his voice was on your ears and you ran, “finnick? finnick where are you?” as you tried to run back to camp, you heard birds wings flapping, and you realized that it was jabberjays, and as you swung your knife around to get them to stop, all you could do was listen to the rest of his screams, his mixed in with your families screams.

finnick had heard you scream, and realized he was a lot closer than he thought. you were crying, sobs recognizable as he ran, seeing you cursed up in a ball with a group of birds flying over you.

he realized as your screams intensified what they were. he pulled you up to your feet and practically picked you up, running with you back to the beach.

as he ran, you clutched onto him, crying and muttering apologies, he set you down just a few feet away from katniss and peeta, “stop. it’s not your fault. it’s okay, see? im fine, i’m right here baby.” he kissed you, and finally you calmed down, nodding as tears fell from your eyes.

“oh, finn.” you hugged him, “that was so stupid. im sorry, i promise i won’t do that again. i won’t leave you again, finnick.” you reassured, and hugged him, just as katniss and peeta neared the two of you, questions about your well-being buzzed in your ears.

[gay-dorito-dust]

okay so if jace and aemond are both in love with reader how do you think they would react if reader was on the other side of the war and they had to fight them on dragon back???

Jace felt his heart break upon realising that he has to fight you. He doesn’t wish to be the reason you are brought to harm that he had once promised to keep you away from, he doesn’t think his heart would be able to handle it, but the realm was being plunged into war and you were unfortunately on the opposite side thanks to your father for pledging your house for Aegon.

Jace had tried to offer you his hand in marriage but your father wasn’t having it, proclaiming that you were already betrothed to someone else. Your father was aware of Jace’s feelings for you but wasn’t about to let his child marry the bastard son of Rhaenyra.

So without any options for him to take to secure your safety, Jace had come to terms with the reality that he had to kill you in order to help his mother sit the throne she was promised, would this war away at him for the rest of his days? Absolutely. You were his heart, his light, his breath of fresh air but now you were the thorn in his side that he couldn’t remove for he didn’t want to forget the delicious pain you brought him by making him love you.

He didn’t want to do this but his family had lost too much to the greens, so seeing you take their side without so much of a fight has to be the greatest betrayal he’s ever experienced, his heart hurt with the notion that he hasn’t once crossed your mind when you had been nothing but all consuming in his. Jace could only hope that the next life would be more merciful for the both of you as you both lunged for the other.

Aemond valued duty above all else for he didn’t have anything else, he was a kinslayer, the worst thing that you could possibly hope to be in Westeros. He had doomed himself from the start by claiming Vhagar that night on driftmark but he didn’t care because for the first time he felt like someone and felt useful for his family.

I wish I could say that he’d wouldn’t dare engage with you in combat but I’d be lying, if anyone before him opposes his family, then they are as good as dead regardless of how he felt in the past. However apart of him was certain you have come to hate him with a rage as blistering as dragonfire for what he had done to Lucaerys at Storm’s End.

He had ruined any and all hopes of your future together for good that day and drove you into siding with his half sister, the true heir to the throne, as you screamed with your whole chest upon Cannibal. Your mind has been made up as had his along time ago, his family needed him to win the war, he was there biggest asset and you were team black’s greatest asset they had at their disposal; your clash was an inevitable one.

Aemond know his heart might always belong to you but you were never his to claim, it wasn’t fate as you were promised to the likes of Benjicot Blackwood. Aemond had caught you both exchanging pleasantries beforehand once but didn’t think much of it until war finally broke across the realm, only then did it started to make sense. You were never his when your heart belonged to another and he wasn’t fully yours either when his heart was set on brining victory to his family over the love that could’ve been.

[fxtalitygod]

X. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 6-10x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), dubcon/noncon (not any actual smut other than vague mentions of sex), implied postpartum, implied survivors guilt

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Today is a new day and after I got home from work and did some fine-tuning, I finally posted the FINAL CHAPTER (not including the epilogue) of Survival!!! I honestly find it funny that I had originally planned for this story to be a short series and it just spiraled into two years of writing! HAHAHAHAA!!!

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

Emptiness.

It was a feeling that you bitterly greeted after having abandoned it six years ago. It was disappointing, but welcome nonetheless. You wished it was under different circumstances. You did not know which circumstances but knew it was anything other than this.

After the destruction of your life, everything went back to the beginning. You were rehomed in a new village and a different temple, though you could not tell much of the difference. Those blank walls still drove you to insanity. The marriage ceremonies had resumed and more children began crawling the halls in a matter of months.

Sukuna had seemingly lost interest in you after the incident. You had finally snapped, extinguishing the anticipation for the hopes that you would one day. Despite his seeming lack of interest, you were still watched over with diligence, still resided in his chambers, and still acquired a caretaker.

Your mental forces were deteriorating, and it was clear from the blank expression that graced your face. You assumed that Sukuna acknowledged that and decided to have a sitter stay on top of you if you were to do something unexpected– much like what you had done to your village.

The curse user knew the extent of your rage, but he did not quite expect you to leave your home in ruins, to burn your family into nothing but ash. Little to your knowledge, a part of him admired you for that; however, the words that left your mouth after the act had been done brought him a discomfort that neither himself could explain.

From the way he was rutting in you currently, you could not tell. Another attempt of impregnating you. Years ago, you would have had a mind to beg him to stop, and when you could not accomplish that, feign pleasure. You used to want to please Sukuna not for his benefit but your own. Now all you cared about was embracing the feeling of that emptiness as you merely felt the man fucking you: soundless, motionless, thoughtless.

It took a matter of months before you were with child again; however, unlike before, this pregnancy was worse. In the physical aspect, you were overall healthy, but your mental health was far from good. You were a husk of the woman you once were, having lost all ambition for your future. Even when spontaneous thoughts of what life would be like outside the temple, you could not help but feel nauseous.

Guilt.

There were times you wished you could have blamed it on your pregnancy and escape the reality of the issue, but your mind would not allow it. You were repulsed with yourself and could not help but feel like you were betraying your twins by just the simple notion that you were alive, and to think of a future for yourself without them revolted you beyond compare. Your pregnancy did not make it any better.

Most women in the temple thought of pregnancy as a fresh start after losing their previous offspring; a new chance to impress their husband– a sickening point of view; however, you could not be upset with them. Deep down, you believed they had been just as afraid as you were upon their arrival when their village elders proclaimed them the next tribute to Sukuna. They more than likely had a plan to make it out of this hell and made promises to return to their families, but somewhere down the line, all the manipulation, physical strain, and mental stress, caused them to accept their fates and try to make the best out of it, losing themselves in the process.

You were not so lucky.

If pregnancy was a punishment before, it was a curse now. Knowing you were to have another child brought you great remorse. Anytime you were to look or even feel your bump, you could not help but think of the past... to think of your twins. It felt like you were betraying them, trying to unconsciously replace them even though your pregnancy was out of your control.

The way you would eat at yourself could have been considered torture.

Besides the normal work around the temple, you would spend most of your evenings in a dark and unoccupied room, keeping to yourself. No one dared to disrupt you, mostly out of fear due to the knowledge of your power. Few left you space out of respect, knowing the pain you were going through; however, sometimes you wished they would walk through that door, hoping they would attempt to comfort you.

It would have been a good distraction from your running mind.

Those dark and quiet rooms gave you time to think and reflect. You realized there were many things you had undermined and denied for your own sanity. The list could go on, some minor, some major…and the major miscalculations stuck out like a sore thumb.

Trimester One.

Despite your efforts, your village nor your family would have ever accepted your children– Sukuna's blood coursed through their veins, and that was enough to consider them a monstrosity. Your hopes of escaping with them and living a happy life were an illusion you conjured up to keep a drive in you.

Trimester Two.

Whether you liked it or not, your twins would not stay innocent forever. The twins were under Sukuna's guidance, no thanks to your pact, and they absolutely adored him. The twins blindly trusted him with their entire beings and would have believed anything Sukuna had taught them was for good, and you knew for a fact that is how your partner would have spun it. Their acts would have been malicious and cruel and they would not have even known...and despite your want to tell them the truth, the constraints of your pact would have stopped you from doing so.

Trimester Three.

Even if you had successfully run away with your son and daughter in hand, the life the three of you would have lived would have been far from peaceful. You and the children were proven valuable assets to Sukuna; to think that your husband would give you all up so easily was foolish. The curse-user would have hunted you down to the ends of the world until you were back in his grasp.

And as you sat there holding your new baby girl, tears streaming down your face as you listened to her whimpers, you hoped she'd grow up to be a fool; a strong, but foolish girl. If your daughter grew up to be a fool, the world could not hurt her as it had hurt you. If she becomes a fool, she would not have to feel the burden you were feeling.

You hated that you hoped for her, hated the fact that you loved and cared for her after laying eyes on her small figure. The whole scene was pitiful. The arms of a mother holding her child close to her bosom as if shielding them from the world– the effort could be appreciated but was futile because the looming threat was already hovering over you as he inspected his creation. If his presence was not unsettling enough, his hum of satisfaction horrified you, causing you more tears.

"I should have killed myself that morning. It would have saved me a lot of heartache..." you whispered, repeating the words you had mentioned over a year ago.

Months back into motherhood you found yourself questioning yourself and your emotional availability every time you looked at your daughter. You were doing all the right things, but performing the tasks felt heavy on your shoulders, and the smiles you painted on your face felt like they were caked on. None of it felt real. There was no doubt you cared for your little girl, but you had to admit that the task was tiring– caring was tiring.

You thought the feeling would end, believed it was temporary, but days turned into months, and months turned into a year.

You had just finished your daughter's first inspection and were now in your sleeping chambers with your husband. You both stood there silent and unmoving, staring at each other with hardly any indication of who was willing to speak first. Fortunately, your daughter was the first to break the silence, whining as she clung to you. You sighed as you understood the child needed attention, moving the baby into a better position to lightly bounce her, attempting to calm her down.

"You know, I thought you would be overjoyed to be blessed with another child, Y/n," Sukuna sounded as he studied you.

"Whatever do you mean? I am nothing but pleased," you blankly responded, focusing entirely on the little girl bouncing in your arms.

Silence once again.

You could feel his stare burning into you; feel his agitation radiating off his skin as he looked for a real answer. Sukuna was not an idiot, you were aware of that, but his meaningless probing was getting on your nerves. You would much rather he got to the point than play his mind games. If he was going to be indirect, you would only do the same.

"Do you think of them when you look at her?"

There was a halt in your movements, breath hitching as you did so. You slowly moved your head to look at the man before you, your gaze piercing. You had every intention to avoid the question, but your mouth betrayed your mind.

“What do you think?” You snipped, a grimace forming onto your features.

“I could make you forget, simply remove them from your memory to rid you of this…ailment.”

For what felt like the thousandth time of your life, you could feel your eyes widen, however, this was the most appalling statement your husband had made. Had he really suggested ridding your memories with your twins? Had he no remorse? Of course not, why would he? The children were a means to an end, nothing more than a few pawns in his plan. Any love and affection the father had shown his son and daughter were shown with calculation and precision– there was no meaning behind those affections.

"You sick bastard."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Y/n, I would advise that you watch your tone," a warning glare, "If I did not know any better, I would say that you were speaking out of turn when I am offering you such a gift– I do not offer such things lightly."

"Well it is good that you know better," the seething anger bubbling in your chest was choosing your words at this point, "How could you suggest such a thing?"

"I am doing you a mercy, Y/n, you are letting the past consume you from the inside out, and sooner or later you will become the image of your agony."

"You know nothing because if you did you would be in the same state as I am. You speak as if you know sympathy, but your words are honeyed to keep me in your grasp!"

Your breath was heavy as you confronted Sukuna, glaring daggers into his soul as you watched him step closer.

"Your perception can be quite bothersome at times, Little Flower; however, I believe it is what I admire most about you. I think it is why I chose you...why I love you."

Love.

Love.

Love.

"Love."

Your laughter was hysterical. The tears welling up in your eyes from pure disbelief and humor. Sukuna Ryomen himself has admitted to loving you for the second time. This time claiming he chose you because he loves you.

What a joke.

"Love me?" you choked between giggles, "Sukuna, you would not know love if it hit you in the face. Like I said before, your words are coated with the sweetest sugars to keep me around, to bring me hope, and quite frankly, the sweetness has become dull and bitter," a pause as you caught your breath, "You do not love me Sukuna. As I have stated, you love what I can provide you."

Silence had greeted you both for what seemed like the millionth time, but you could have been wrong, you lost count at this point.

"I understand the concept of love, more than you think, Little Flower; however, love has little meaning. So you are right, I do not love you, I value you. Is that not greater than love?"

You scoffed.

"You are going to die alone and I am glad that you will."

A soft chuckle sounded from your husband before feeling a strange feeling at the back of your head. You could feel the kanzashi pin moving in your hair as Sukuna played with the accessory.

"I highly doubt that."

Those four words had caused your heart to sink, bringing you more fear than you had ever experienced in your entire life. Without thought, you backed away from the man towering over you. You shook your head as you held eye contact with Sukuna, almost stumbling on your feet as you felt for the door and clumsily exited the room. You had your daughter close to your chest as you entered the hallway.

What little you had of your life came crashing down instantly as the gravity of your reality unfolded to its full extent.

You would never be free and although that was a realization you had made long ago...this time you had no hope to convince you otherwise.

So what did you do?

You ran.

You flew through the corridors to the gardens, arriving with heavy breath. Scanning the grounds you searched for the only individual who could help you right now. The moment your eyes registered the woman, you quickly approached, hardly paying attention to anything along your path as you made your way over.

"Y/n-"

"I have something for you!" you interrupted, holding out a pin you had stored and concealed for years, never knowing the right moment to give it to the woman before you.

The woman who had lost her sick and poor son on your very first inspection day.

You watched as her eyes welled up immediately, taking the pin and inspecting it as if to make sure it was real. When she was able to confirm the little trinket was indeed not a figment of her imagination, she held it close to her chest, letting her silent sobs escape before looking at you.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. But why are you giving this to me?"

You looked around hesitantly before pitifully looking at her, letting your walls crumble to reveal all your pain and suffering.

"I need your help."

"Uraume!"

"Yes, Sukuna-sama," the right hand responded.

"I would like you to gather the women and children from the inspection, I have an announcement."

"Yes, Sukuna-sama, I'll get right on it."

With that Uraume disappeared, leaving Sukuna in his quarters alone. The man paced in his chambers, reflecting on the prior conversation from earlier. The talk did not have the most satisfying ending, but much like the other unfortunate discussions that had been held between the two of you, this would be another problem that would resolve itself in due time.

The move would help move that process faster.

This village had quickly bored the tyrant, as they were quick to promise vengeance and destruction upon his empire. Same-old-same-old. So with that, it was time to move on to the next village after leaving this one behind in ashes.

"Sukuna-sama, the women and children do not appear to be in their chambers or the gardens, the workstations are abandoned too.

"What?"

Without a thought, Sukuna stormed out of the room and into the halls, those blank walls making the temple look more abandoned knowing that everyone had seemingly disappeared. He looked through every room he managed to pass, even using his abilities to sense the faintest amount of cursed energy. For a while, he came up with nothing, but after catching a familiar aura, he briskly started to follow the direction it was coming from.

The curse-user found himself in the main hall, where he saw his wives and children gathered. The husband would be lying if he claimed he was not confused with the situation, but he would not show that. Instead, Sukuna decided to try and decipher the scenario.

Upon first glance, it had seemed that the women and children were gathered for a usual gathering, but upon closer observation, something was off. The looks of the individuals in the room seemed to differ. Some women seemed relieved, others looked almost proud, and others...well, the last of the women looked as if they were being held there against their will.

As the monster-of-a-man continued to scan the room, he finally managed to find you, standing in the center of the room, your head held high; however, you looked exhausted, broken. It brought that familiar discomforting feeling to Sukuna, the same feeling when you had spoken those words after you had burned down your village.

"What is this, Little Flower?" Sukuna questioned with some amusement behind his voice, masking his indifference.

"Do not call me that," you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as it softly echoed in the room.

"Y/n-sama ple-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" you yelled, successfully silencing the crying woman who had shouted for you.

The atmosphere was tense, and he would tread carefully because Sukuna was no fool.

"What do you want, Little Flower? An apology? I can, obviously, give that to you, but we both know it would not solve much. So what is it you truly want?"

"To leave..." you weakly announced, watching as Sukuna gradually approached before stopping in his footsteps.

"Well then, Little Flower, you have gathered yourself and all your companions just in time, I was ready to announce our departure from this village. You get what you want, righ-"

"That's not what I want." you interrupted.

Sukuna was silent, his brow twitching in irritation as he stared at you, stopping mid-stride.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want the offer you gave me back on the table?" you quickly responded.

"And what offer would you be referring to, Little Flower?"

"On my very first inspection with my twins, you offered me to kill everyone in this room– I want to change my answer."

Your husband chuckled, "Do you not think the circumstances have changed a little, my dear? I gave you that option years ago, what makes you think that is something I am still willing to offer?"

"Because you love me..."

"Now you are willing to embrace that love?"

"Only if you do this one last thing for me. I will let you love me until my last mortal days, and me in return, just as long as everyone in this room dies."

A sly smirk, "As you wish, Little Flow-"

"By my hands!" you interjected.

Delight was an expression that Sukuna could not hold back at those words.

"It's a deal, Y/n."

"Perfect."

With those words sealing the pact, you took no further wait in your next actions. You ignored all the shouts and screams of those who wished to live, ridding yourself of whatever empathy you once had– you had to admit, it made things a lot easier when setting the room ablaze. Hearing their screams of agony and pain was a lot easier when you managed to wash out the humanity within you.

You could only feel relief after hearing all the shrieks and wails die out into nothing but silence. The room was filled with nothing but fire, bone, and ashes, the smell of burning flesh was prominent; however, that did not stop him from approaching you.

"I love you, Little Flower." Sukuna proclaimed, bringing his forehead to yours before softly kissing you.

He pulled away to look into your eyes, admiring them momentarily before smiling softly. Some may have mistaken it for a look of endearment, but it was a look of satisfaction. He had successfully taken your pride, dignity, and hope– he had taken all of you.

"I love you too."

And because you had no pride, dignity, or hope, left to hold on to...

It made it so much easier to bring that poison-coated dagger to your flesh and slit your belly.

For Sukuna everything went in slow motion, immediately swatting the dagger from your hand to the ground before cupping your wound, blood covering his hand in seconds. The desperate individual tried using his reverse curse technique to revert the damage, but it was pointless as you were resisting. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt genuine fear as he watched you slowly slip away from reality. And as everything started to play back to speed, Sukuna had a realization.

"Where is our daughter?!" The four-armed monstrosity yelled upon notice of your empty arms, continuing at attempts to stop your bleeding with little success.

Your smile made his heart drop.

"Gone." you sputtered, blood slipping from your cooling lips before going completely limp.

"...Gone where? Little Flower..."

"Little Flower!"

"LITTLE FLOWER, ANSWER ME!"

"Y/N!!!!!!!!"

You upheld your deal...you loved him for your last mortal days, it just so happened that day was seconds into a day, and as Sukuna sat there holding your motionless form, he could not have regretted anything more in his life. Making that deal was the best thing to happen in your life because in the end...

...You won the game of Survival.

And you hoped that your daughter could one day do the same.

Until the epilogue yall... (｀∀´)Ψ

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx

[kinopio-writes]

Hello dearie!!

How are you? I hope you're doing well!

I saw that your asks were open,and your content is really cool and silly,So I decided to leave you a nice ask to enjoy!

Could I have a headcanon platonic! Alastor,Vox and Husk finding a random child next to their dead mother, except that they don't really understand that she's dead and think she's sleeping,so they pity the child and take them in?

The child is really polite and nice,pretty calm,too. Sure,they do child stuff,like running around,being excited,etc,but they still are more calm than others.

They always talk about their mother,how she's the only one left,and how they love her.

Would the characters say the truth? Would they lie?

I just love hurt/comfort and platonic relationships so :3

Anyways,I hope that's not too much,and that you enjoy writing this!

Have a really nice day,don't forget to drink and take breaks!

Stay proud!

-Nina <33

A/N: Thank you for the reminders, heh. Btw, I’m going to have to change the reasons as to why they took you in because I just don’t see characters like Alastor and Vox taking you in because of pity. Sorry about that. The rest is untouched. You’ll still get a bit of that hurt/comfort (mostly from Husk, lol. Both Alastor and Vox are non-existent, but Alastor is somehow better than Vox).

Warnings: Mentions of death

———

Alastor, Husk, and Vox adopting a deceased mom’s child

Alastor

• Alastor paid no mind to the dead corpse

• it didn’t really look that appetizing anyway

• “How unfortunate.” You heard a weird voice from behind you as a hand was placed on your shoulder. “A child mourning in the demise of its mother. Tragic, really. You have my condolences.”

• “What are you talking about, mister?” You stared up at the mysterious man, watching his eyes flick from your left to right eye while his grin only grew as the seconds went by

• “I think you’ve just found yourself the perfect dwelling,” he abruptly said, letting go of your shoulder to fix his bowtie as he sprung back to life. “Why don’t you come with me?”

• “But what about my mother?”

• “She is in good hands, I can assure you.” He offered his hand to you. “Come along, now. Children shouldn’t dwell long in places like these.”

• and so he took you in to be a patron at his hotel

• I mean, what’s more easier to redeem than a child? (assuming you’re a sinner. I don’t know if it’s canon anymore that only hellborns can reproduce. Look at Cannibal Town’s people)

• he intended to leave you in the rest of the residents’ care while they could only guess what his actual motivation was for taking you in

• but it seemed you ended up favoring him more than the rest

• you’d follow him around like a duckling—a lost puppy—you’re attached to him like a leech

• and you’re so well-behaved, too

• up until he leaves your sight

• he actually leaves the hotel a lot more often now because of that

• he finds you wrecking chaos in the hotel entertaining as hell

• and the fact that the others beg him to come back to calm you down

• I don’t think you would ever know what happened to your mother

• even when you talk about her a lot

• those rambles never really prompt him to say anything

• well, it’s not as if he knew what happened to her

• but, hey, at least he listens!

• maybe it’s because he feels a little nostalgic hearing the way you talk about her…

———

Husk

• Husk was fucking spooked when he found you lying beside your dead mother

• not because of the corpse, but because of the way you were staring at him

• with eyes dull and wide open, just like your mother

• while Husk wouldn’t have given two shits if it was a grown-ass adult, you were a child

• so he took you in

• “But what about my mother?”

• “Shi—I, uh—your momma will tag along soon. Now c’mon. She wouldn’t want you out here alone.”

• since Husk is constantly around the hotel, there were never really instances where you wreaked havoc

• you just silently watch him tend the bar and sometimes talk about your mother

• your talks about how much you love her make him feel pretty guilty for some reason

• but he’d probably tell you when you’re older enough

• only if you were asking him about her though

• he wouldn’t want to have to sit you down and tell you something that sensitive of a topic when you didn’t even ask

• “Why don’t I have a mother?” you would suddenly ask when you turned 18

• today was your birthday. Charlie insisted on having a little party for you just like every year. But you didn’t want one; you wanted to be with Husk for the day

• the man in question sighed

• he knew you were building up the courage to ask all day

• “I’m gonna give it to you straight, kid, I don’t know what exactly happened to her. All I know is that she’s in a better place.”

• “Oh…”

• “Do you…wanna talk about it?” He continued, voice a little unsure, “Not as a bartender…but as a dad.”

• you smiled, grateful. “I think I’ve already said plenty when I was younger. But thanks, Dad.”

• he smiled back

• you two would then sit in silence together, basking in each other’s presence

———

Vox

• so, uh, I’m going to have to completely skip the taking you in part with Vox because I genuinely cannot see him adopting a random child (unless he could gain something, but, like, you’re just a kid)

• so you’ll just get the aftermath of it (hope that’s okay)

• based on the way he handled Val’s tantrum, I think it’s safe to assume that he’s somewhat good with children

• but he’s a pretty busy guy

• he doesn’t have the time to take care of a random child, so he’d make sure to keep an eye on you on his cameras

• but despite that, your existence in the tower warrants his

• as you’re too chaotic whenever he isn’t around

• but only around the other expendable employees

• you’re relatively well-behaved when Velvette and Valentino are with you

• but he doesn’t exactly trust them to take care of you

• they aren’t exactly good with children

• so he tried doing video calls

• you will definitely grow up as an iPad kid

• he’d hear you talk about your mom during those calls

• he’d let you go on and on, but it’s not guaranteed that he’ll listen

• I don’t think he would ever tell you what happened to her (he doesn’t know, anyway)

• he won’t lie, he’d just work around your question

• skillfully

• like, extremely so

• even if you ask him directly, he still manages to dodge the question somehow

• I don’t know what else to say, he’s gonna be a pretty distant father—

[jakexneytiri]

Hi, I can request a family life with husband! neteyam x reader, after 2 movies, please long if you agree

hii!!

you sure can! this was so cute to write and i’m in love with dad!neteyam. i hope this is what you had in mind, anon!<3

forever & always

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

it’s been ten years since you and your husband first mated. neteyam was madly in love with you, that love only growing stronger over the years. he could never get enough of you, never keep his hands off of you. you have four children to prove it, and you’re pregnant with your fifth.

neteyam arranged an entire ceremony to be held tonight for your anniversary. the clan spent the entire day preparing, harvesting fruits, hanging bioluminescent plants for light, and gathering old twigs and dead plants to be used for the main fire.

in your hut, things were absolute chaos. you were waiting for neteyam to return home, he had “a few more things to set up” for the party. your children couldn’t contain themselves, excitedly running around your shared hut readying themselves for the evening.

your oldest, tsantu, you hardly ever had to worry about. he was very independent, and rarely asked for your assistance. he was all ready for the ceremony, wearing his special arm cuff he crafted, with neteyam’s help.

“mom, do you need help?”

“would you please help your brother with his necklace? that would be a big help.” you place a kiss on the top of his head, as he nods and goes to help his brother.

your second born, se’ayl, was calm and reserved like her older brother. however, she was sassy from time to time, with both you and neteyam. she definitely picked up the habit from aunt kiri, who she adored.

“se’ayl? do you have your feathers on yet?” you ask, glancing over at her.

“ugh, do i have to wear those?” she groans, taking a deep breath in just to sigh it out.

“yes, flower. your father wants everyone to wear them tonight. aunty kiri will be wearing hers, too.” you say in an excited tone, hoping it will cheer her up.

“really? she is??” excitement lights up on her face, as she quickly goes to change into them.

your third, txonuk, was your occasionally rebellious child, sometimes outspoken, making neteyam be the bad guy when he needed to be punished, but you loved him nonetheless.

“let’s see your necklace, txonuk!” you say excited, kneeling down to take a look.

he lifts his chin upwards, so you can get a good look at the newly placed necklace.

“what a very handsome young man you are.” you say, as he giggles.

“mama, i’m not a man, i’m just a boy!” he yells, waving his arms around dramatically.

“oh, forgive me! what a very handsome young boy you are.” he wraps his arms around your leg, giggling into it.

“mama! mama!” nima interrupts, holding her new feathers up to your face. “these pwease!”

nima, your youngest, was one of the main reasons you lost sleep at night. she’s very shy around people she doesn’t know, but very comfortable with her siblings. she finds comfort in you and neteyam, to her, you both are her sun and moon. you often find her in the middle of the night curled up in between you and neteyam, from the “bad dreams” she has. (she has bad dreams almost every night. it’s just an excuse to be closer to you both).

“these ones?” you question, holding them up. “they’re very pretty, little love. do you need help putting them on?”

“noooo! i do it!” she giggles as she runs off to the other side of the hut.

just then, the flap to your hut opened, revealing your beloved husband.

“iiiiiiiit’s dad!” neteyam says, causing all four children to burst into a fit of giggles.

“where are my five wonderful children?” he asks, looking around the hut even though they’ve all ran right to his feet, apart from nima.

txonuk gives a confused look to both se’ayl and tsantu. whispering, he asks “five? but, there’s only…” and he begins counting on his fingers. “there’s only 4 of us!”

tsantu shakes his head, whispering back “he’s talking about the baby in momma’s belly, skxawng.”

“hmmmm, one!” neteyam says, placing a kiss to tsantu’s head.

“and there’s two!” kissing the top of se’ayl’s head.

“dad! dad i’m right here!” txonuk says, pointing to himself.

“oh, there’s three!” neteyam chuckles as he places a kiss to txonuk’s head.

“now, where’s my number four?”

nima runs over, her arm stuck in the air from her necklace being on wrong.

“daddy, i’m stuck!” she pouts, her little eyes filling with tears.

neteyam kneels, fixing her necklace and freeing her arm, kissing the top of her head.

“there’s my #4. no need for tears, babygirl. are those new feathers?”

she giggles, and squeals “yes!” before running away.

glancing over to you now, neteyam stands, arms open wide.

“looking for #5?” you question, moving your swollen belly closer to his grasp.

“ah, my #5.” he kisses your belly gently, before snaking his arms around your waist, lips to your ear as he says

“hi, mama. looking beautiful, as always.”

“hi.” you smile, kissing your mate, which earns a collective “ewwwww!” from your children.

you both laugh, as neteyam covers your face in kisses. forehead, cheeks, chin, neck, ears, anywhere he could reach, he’d kiss.

“daddy, that’s GWOSS!” nima shouts, covering her eyes.

“well, good thing aunty kiri, *kiss* uncle lo’ak, *kiss* and aunty tuk tuk *kiss* are waiting outside for you four, *kiss* because i have a loooot more *kiss* kisses for *kiss* mama!” he says, kissing you again, chuckling against your skin.

they squeal and run out of the hut, to be met with their favorite aunts and uncle. you stand in the doorway of your hut, neteyam’ standing behind you as one arm is wrapped around your waist, the other holding the flap to your hut open.

“sooo, are you guys coming with us now or-“ lo’ak asks, just to be cut off by neteyam.

“no. you go ahead, we’ll be there soon.”

kiri takes se’ayl’s hand, while tuk takes nima’s, as they start to head to the celebration. lo’ak takes tsantu’s in one, and txonuk’s in the other.

lo’ak rolls his eyes, muttering “keep it in your loincloth, would ya.”

although he mumbled, neteyam still heard him.

“have you SEEN my mate? how on pandora would i do that?”

lo’ak groans, walking away, yelling “get a room, you two!”

“we’re trying!!” neteyam yells back before closing the flap to your hut.