#only to have a dumb injury put me even further behind

[agayconcept]

.

[shimishimii]

everybody’s falling in love but me

⟿ wc; 2k+

⟿ Sakusa Kiyoomi x gn reader ; dramatic fluff, for me this is really a cute fic, hope you like it

⟿ have you ever felt like everyone’s been experiencing love and relationships as if it was a trend and you’re getting left behind? I wrote this fic because of that

He hears another rant from Atsumu. Hinata rushes to guess, and Sakusa doesn’t need to listen further to determine what this is all about.

Love. Again.

How long did Atsumu’s previous partner lasted? Two weeks? 6 days? A night?

He sat at the gym floor and sees Bokuto smiling cheekily despite his girlfriend coming over to scold him for overexerting given his shoulder injury. Hinata is on a call with Kageyama, grinning and jumping, as if practice was not tiring enough.

He passes on Atsumu’s request, heavily declining to stay up until midnight taking care of wobbly legs and liquor drowned cognition. And for a well-built set of athletes, it sure is a heavy work.

Besides, the topic will be the same. Atsumu vents, hogs all the drama, Bokuto and Hinata would comfort him while Meian tries to give a man-to-man advice. And when the night breeze grows heavy and their hazy eyes starts to cloud with brimming tears with a weird mixture of laughter, only tales of love would escape their lips.

Sakusa shakes his head and hurries packing up knowing the blonde setter would drag everyone out for a drink. And no matter what kind of opinion he says, his teammates would point out his own demise. Right, he is not even in a relationship.

All his friends seem to feel warm and giddy talking about the important people in their life. Sure, their partners had flaws, but all those details seem to fit the puzzle. Drawn back by time again and again, as if tethered by invisible threads of affinity, through complains and smiles, they keep coming back.

Like it was meant to be.

Even if it meant his heart would always be at the edge of heaven and hell all the time?

He likes his comfort zone as it is even if it means he is alone. Alone but not lonely, well, most of the time.

Sakusa can’t fathom the idea of how they can be willing to gamble on the table, hoping that their partner would show a card of heart.

Of all computed probabilities, love must be a question of chance.

Dumb luck. Fate. Destiny.

Whatever it is, his walls are tall enough for love to even take a peek.

Sometimes, confusion spreads over him, was he being left out? Is his heart just half a piece and there’s actually a need for someone to complete it?

Actually, he never liked putting much effort in liking someone. Simply, the time and attention to spend, he thinks it is not worth it.

He assumes several points, mostly illogical, but he thinks otherwise.

First, to get used to someone’s warmth and the eternal winter that would follow once it’s gone. Second, he doesn't want to be a memory in someone's past, archived and forgotten as though once upon a time, he was just a side character in a story.

Lastly, but of course you will never hear him admit it.

He feels scared. Once he ends up alone, back to how he always was, he does not know how to cope with such loss.

With that, he prefers not feeling anything, getting attached, or falling in love at all.

There’s the constant fear of being left alone and hurt. For a heart to get used to a rhythm and then long a melody of what your heartbeat used to dance to.

But of course, he knows it is more complicated than that. And it was never easy admitting it. It’s hard to express this feeling. Of hoping to love and be loved, at the same time still enjoying the peace of solitude.

It seems to be an ignorant bliss, when you don’t know love drawn along the lines of commitment. Sure, he can admire someone but not in a way there’ll be a ring on his finger someday and vows will be exchanged.

His feelings were often intellectualized, and the words just never materialize.

There’s another fear that lingers, that admitting his feelings means a promise. That he will never leave them too.

What if his feelings change along the way?

He admires the concept of affection and intimacy but not when it is about someone’s name to be carved in his heart.

It seems fun. No, fun is not the word for it. It’s difficult to describe, but loving and being loved must be something special.

‘Who am I to find joy in such experience?’ He often asks himself.

So, he will simply think about this for a few nights, or days, or during showers, in-between tv shows, just enough to acknowledge this feeling and let it go.

See, there’s a lot of issues he is still working on. And may it be a decade or a century, he wishes to be well prepared before he falls in love.

Because he knows when he falls, it will be like gravity had him on a chokehold.

“You’re meeting again?” Bokuto asks. Suddenly, everyone’s attention is on him.

It’s an early end for their practice today. It barely warmed him up. Although Sakusa protests, he plays anyway. He grumbles but still plays volleyball all too well. Hinata complains how he can hate and love a thing, and still be good at it.

“Right Omi, I wonder why’s that” Atsumu sneaks a remark, with a hand placed on his shoulder, eyebrows wiggling. His teammates are too good at jumping, often at conclusions.

“It’s for that case settlement” Sakusa replies.

“The house ownership?” Everyone pauses to listen as Atsumu speaks. “Wonder how someone did manage to scam you” Atsumu’s right. He thinks of himself as ahead of analyzing people, turns out he’s vulnerable when someone offers something with the label ‘sale’.

“Why not let it go? You’re rich, unless you want to keep going on those ‘case meetings’ huh”

Sakusa simply sighs. The scammer was caught months ago, but there wasn’t any progress on who gets the house. Sakusa Kiyoomi, who finally decided to buy a house, somehow ended up tangled with you.

Both of you paid the full amount for the house, caught off guard by the ‘sale’. Said it was 50% off (it never was). Truly, the scammer knows capitalism by its roots, selling the house to both Sakusa and you, presented as a bargain but gained twice the amount. And unfortunately, the money was gone in thin air. The positive side was, it was named after you and Sakusa but both of you have to decide how to settle the ownership.

The judge suggested two options:

a) one gets the house, the other compensated with money

b) sell the house, both gets compensated with money

However, both of you refuses to give away the house. It’s a perfect deal, both near your workplaces, spacious, newly renovated, completely furnished, and has that perfect aesthetic of the interior you both dreamed of.

Sakusa already told this dilemma to his teammates. He has no choice, it’s been months, and both of you kept meeting but ends up arguing. No wins, no losses. A perfect stagnant problem.

“Let Kiyoomi enjoy his dates—”

“It’s a meeting” Sakusa retorts.

“Right, and the sun’s a star” Atsumu rolls his eyes.

“It’s a star?” Hinata quickly replies, with furrowed brows.

“Well, whatever you call it, seems like you’re enjoying anyways” Atsumu shrugs. Bokuto and Hinata nods.

“They’re annoying at best” Sakusa replies, massaging his forehead thinking what chaos it will be again later.

“If you don’t like each other so much, why bother meet all the time?” Hinata asks.

“Specifically, at least twice a week” Bokuto agrees.

And Sakusa’s left defenseless. His walls came crashing down.

He ignores everything they say after, as he usually does. He finishes packing up and proceeds to check your message. He searches the location where your date will be—discussion, he smiles at his silly mistake.

On the other hand, you are getting uneasy how today will turn out although you are sure an argument will be present. It’s quite a joke you kept meeting someone despite your desire to avoid things that are a waste of time.

Meeting Sakusa is not a waste of time, isn’t it?

You deny the excitement building up waiting on him as he shows up in gym clothes compared to your academia themed outfit. It was like someone on a fitness journey was meeting up with a crumbling postgrad student.

With black sweatpants, an inch higher than his ankle, and his regular fitted black shirt, you spot Kiyoomi. As marvelous and nonchalant as ever.

Kiyoomi looks from outside the cafe’s window and pauses for almost a minute, thinking of something nice to say.

You also prepared a few phrases on your mind, something about the weather. How cloudy skies compliments the hue of his hair and eyes, captivating his features so well.

But the moment you meet, and words come out from your mouths, he was baffled how something about the weather turned into an argument about ecological footprints. Maybe because Kiyoomi kept on using his car despite the training venue being streets away. You point it out and Kiyoomi would never admit his purpose of hoping to drive you home sometime. So, he contradicts your words by the number of items you kept on purchasing and why consumerism keeps on depleting the earth’s resources.

After some lengthy banter, silence precedes.

But Sakusa wonders what remains loud, no one’s talking but something remains loud.

Then he realizes, there’s the beat on his chest.

He begins to get baffled by how many paradoxes can exist all at once.

Like how he can hate your guts but keeps making his days available just to see you.

How can he be so selfish of not wanting to give up the house just so he can hear you ramble about your life, why it was your dream house, how can it benefit your working hours, and how you hate pets are not allowed in your current apartment complex.

He hates this. How his practice tires him out but ends up coming back to meet you. Like it was meant to be.

You could also list your reasons to hate him.

You hate how he becomes silent suddenly. But his nonverbal gestures tell a lot and more than what you need to know. Like how his lips slowly lift when your reasoning was actually right. Or the way he orders for the both of you and never misses any detail, he gets it right without even asking you. Even the way he leans forward slightly just so he can hear you clearly and remind you he is listening whenever you share anything.

You begin to remind yourself, think with your head not that thing in your chest.

Of all computed probabilities, love may not be a question of chance…but a choice.

Dumb luck. Fate. Destiny.

Whatever it was, he might be slowly getting it.

You are not there to complete him. Neither he does. But simply sitting in front of him, with his pretty hair, and cute grunts. And all his snide remarks, the comments how your outfit suits you, remembering what your favorite coat is, his random sarcasm, how he remembers all the stories you told him.

His mandatory habit of collecting the receipt with your doodles, how he informs you ahead of his schedule making sure you are a part of it, and simply being with each other.

It is not just a question what this situation is. It is an enigma.

You hate him.

And damn right, he hates you too.

But you both say goodbye with smiles on your face.

Another meeting is set on a shared online calendar you previously both agreed on.

Also, the house still belongs to both of you.

a/n: I admit I get jealous of the "love experience" and I admit I never tried a relationship. Because like what I wrote, it was not the fear of love, it's the fear of losing someone you love.

[primoredial-jade]

heartbeat

“ my heart's on fire for your love. “

pairings: childe x gn!reader

cw: awkward / wholesome love confession confrontations, spoilers of liyue’s archon quest, reader is a medic, reader has hair long enough to put behind ear, reader resides in liyue, few mentions of light injuries and wariness of death, childe calls reader “doc’” 

a/n: i had finished this and left it in the drafts from over a year ago! this is an alternative story i wrote for a prompt didi ( @monocaelia ) sent me for a drabble i wrote called to be in love, and i guess i totally went a different route for that one. hope you enjoy this one as well!!!

“i don’t get paid nearly enough for this.” 

the harbinger has the audacity to chuckle under his breath, leaning further back into the examination table with one of his hands covering his eye. he keeps his voice light despite the apparent discomfort he’s in. 

“don’t worry, doc’. i could offer a little donation to show my gratitude, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

you can’t help the exasperated, heaving sigh that escapes your mouth. you knew his pockets ran deep, but you weren’t being serious. had it been anyone else, you would have kept quiet to maintain your professionalism, but with childe, this all went out the window. 

being a disciple of baizhu and gui at the renowned bubu pharmacy of liyue, you were prone to getting oddball patients every now and then. having to resuscitate a boy from nearly dying eating jueyun chili’s here, selling medicinal herbs to a woman that ate them raw on the spot there.

but truly, no one was as odd as childe. 

as a medical professional, you couldn’t just turn away a patient if they needed your help. the first time he turned up to the pharmacy with cuts and bruises all over in search of painkillers, you had an inkling who he was aligned with based off of the colors of his outfit alone, never mind the fact that he was obviously a foreigner. 

at that time, liyue harbor had only just survived osial’s attack, and word had gotten around that the fatui had much to do with it. while you remained as concise with your words as possible when handing him the bottle of painkillers, you could not repress the urge to make the passive-aggressive question that, 

“it really is a shame that some renowned factions, despite their cunning in their quest for world domination, do not have professional resident medics on standby. don’t you think?” 

you probably should have been killed on the spot for making such a crass comment. as his eyes rose to slowly meet your own, you found a deep sea torrent of both interest and fascination instead of anger. it had taken you aback, but you kept your chin held high.

needless to say, childe’s interest was piqued. 

he had begun to make it a habit to visit at least once every two days. granted, he really was injured or needed medicine when he dropped by, and you were definitely not happy about it; not only because it was him, but because you didn’t necessarily like to have regulars in this type of job. seeing the same patients, even if it was childe, getting hurt over and over again didn’t do your heart any favors.

sometimes, you would seriously consider if he got himself injured on purpose just to see you.

he initiated small talk during your examinations, and while at first you were curt and to the point, he managed to weasel his way past your walls. little by little, you were falling prone to his undeniable charm.

his stupid grin and quirk of his brow when you made an offhand comment made your pulse quicken, his dumb jokes that you didn’t understand unless you were snezhnayan still made you crack a smile, and the fact that he was always honest with you– you were beginning to tolerate him. maybe, more than you had anticipated.

it wasn’t like you were dumb. you could feel the longing looks he gave while you tended to his shallow wounds, his methods of finding cheeky ways to retain your attention for longer, the way he openly talked about his family. fatui don’t reveal personal information like that to just anybody.

today, it seemed as if he had gotten hit in the face with a dirtbomb from treasure hoarders, judging by the dirtied spots on his clothes. some of it must have gotten in his eye.

“i’m not even specialized in optometry,” you mumble, but he shrugs his shoulders innocently, disregarding your comment entirely.

“so long as you can help me see again, it doesn’t matter to me,” he answers easily.

“let me, then,” you urge in a quiet hush, peeling his hand away from his eye.

he has it still scrunched up in discomfort, and you can see the defensive tears from that eye covering the expanse of his face. while you know he isn’t necessarily crying voluntarily, it still brings a pang to your chest.

with the knowledge that he’s a capable fighter with a pain tolerance that is unrivaled, yet even just a little dirt can incapacitate him– it shocks you. at the end of the day, he was human, just like you.

and if he wasn’t so lucky the next time, it could even get in both of his eyes. who knows what would transpire on the battlefield next. he could… lose.

you’re clearly shaken up by your thoughts, and childe waves his free hand over your face, amusement clear on his expression.

“i didn’t come to one of the best pharmacy’s in teyvat to get spaced out on,” his tone softens, sounding more serious, “i’m fine, trust me. nothing to worry about, see?”

he gives a charming half-smile, and you resist the urge to pinch his cheek in retaliation.

“i’m going to flush it out. don’t force yourself to open it, but if you feel the discomfort easing up, just do it slowly,” you instruct, taking a bowl of clean water to his side.

childe, usually one to make more joking complaints, is uncharacteristically compliant with your demands. the room is quiet as he lets you pour the cool water over his eye, and slowly but surely, he opens it up again.

it’s red-rimmed and has seen better days, but you let out a hushed sigh of relief knowing that it’s still functioning fine from what you can tell so far.

“does it still hurt?” you ask, taking a towel and gently wiping away the wetness of the water on his face. it feels… oddly domestic, somehow.

childe shakes his head no, but squints up at you. “not really, but it’s still a little blurry.”

you hum, sliding closer to his face to get a better look, assessing it for a final time just to make sure.

this close, you can feel his breath fanning across your face. it distracts you, but not nearly as much as the endless pools of blue that are staring right into your own. it should unnerve you, the way they don’t sparkle like anyone else’s would, but it doesn’t.

his eyes flicker all across your face, and you feel heat rising up your neck.

once you nod in affirmation and pull away, it’s only then do you realize the flustered state that you left him in. he’s fidgeting, hands clenched into loose fists and ears pinking. you give him a funny look, unable to suppress a smirk.

“it looks fine to me, childe. thankfully it does not look like there will be lasting damage, but you should really see a qualified optometrist, so–“

“i have to tell you something.” he interrupts, looking bashful. you’re immediately on high alert. childe is never bashful.

“childe, i’m still on the clock,” you remind, already having some idea of what he might have to say.

“then consider this a… a patient telling you about their life, or something,” he finishes lamely, chuckling nervously. you can only chew on your lip in anticipation, blood pounding in your ears.

“well, i...” he takes a breath, “i think... well. i’m in love with a nurse,” ajax admits, posture suddenly straightening, confident. “i have been in love with them for a while now, actually. so… if i were to confess, how do you think they would react?” he purses his lips in anticipation at your response.

despite his unwavering voice, his red ears indicate how he really feels in this moment. he’s cute, you think. you briefly hold eye contact, smirking when he is the one to break it. it brings you a sick sense of pride to see such a powerful man brought to his knees from something like this.

he looks definitively taken aback at the airy chuckle you give, responding, “ah, i see.”

now he is really confused. “i– what?” he sputters, eyes darting over your face to get a read on you. 

the quirk in your brow, the knowing smile you have on your face. really, looking at how beautiful you look in this moment only confirms his feelings. 

the cogs in his brain are turning every which way, until finally, it clicks. he brings up a hand to his forehead, letting out a low grumble of embarrassment. with zero shame, he pulls you toward him by your wrist and leans his head against your shoulder. allowing him this brief moment of reprieve, you bring up a hand to card through his hair.

“you knew?” he asks, clearly ashamed at his lack of finesse. you snort, pulling away slightly to meet his eyes.

“well, you haven’t exactly been discreet…” 

he can only bury his head into your shoulder again, completely flushed.

“okay, well,” his breath tickles your skin as you give another chuckle, “i’ll ask again. how do you think this nurse would react?”

pulling completely away from him, you point up at the clock. he huffs, unhappy with your consistency to uphold professionalism.

“maybe you should ask this nurse in another hour after their shift is over.”

childe rolls his eyes. “alright, alright. then i hope this nurse will be happy to meet me at wanmin’s restaurant with their answer– i will only be expecting good things.” 

he laughs the entire way you shoo him out, and only eases up to lean down and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“i’ll see you soon, doc’.”

[cod-sins]

Can I have Ghost, König and Thomas Hewitt (if you write two fandoms in one) with male reader who is a metal head? Long hair, corpse paint, is fascinated with gore stuff and such.

.ೃ࿐ Format: HCs.

.ೃ࿐ Reader: Male. Heavy Metal!Reader.

.ೃ࿐ Ratings: SFW. Gore/Blood mention.

.ೃ࿐ Word Count: 1.3K

[A/N: FIRST MALE READER REQUEST LET'S GOO! Thank you anon for giving me an excuse to watch TCM again. I also did some similar HCs with König (no mention of gender) you can check those out as well. Also, it was so hard for me to find a picture of a black male with corpse paint *sigh*.]

𝑮𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑻

Wowie y'all make an interesting duo.

Between his skull mask/balaclava and your corpse paint and dark clothing, you two make a very visually appealing couple. Ghost jokes about how it's always Halloween at y'alls house.

He likes your long hair. Military guys aren't allowed to have long hair so seeing you with long hair is somewhat refreshing to him.

There is something that awakens inside of Ghost when he sees you walking around shirtless with your hair down.

Ghost is another COD character who wouldn't be surprised by your music.

His father used to take him to Bone Licker concerts (sounds pretty heavy metal to me) when he was younger but he stopped going after the prostitute incident. With him being in the military it only drove him further away but if you could convince him to go to concerts with you he would.

He would make sure to mark the date so he wouldn't forget or let his work intervene. With even more convincing he would allow to you paint a skull on his face, he wouldn't wear it out though he'd switch back to his balaclava.

If there was a chance he couldn't make it to a concert or just didn't wanna go, he'd make it up to you by buying you VIP tickets.

Gets really defensive when other guys hit on you. Puts himself between you and the guy. “Yeah his style is nice and all now bug off.”

At first, Ghost would try and shield you from whatever injuries he has. If he came home still a little bruised and bloody from his last mission he wouldn't want you to see, probably heading straight to the bathroom to freshen up until you tell him you aren't squeamish and you're fine with it. Then he would come straight to the bedroom while you clean up his bloody bandaged shoulder.

Thought you were an odd fella the first time he laid eyes on you. It was most likely Soap who set you guys up.

He acknowledges your interest in gore, however, he'd prefer if you kept it to yourself. When he's deployed he's constantly surrounded by it--by death and blood. So when he gets home it's the last thing he wants to see.

Since the majority of Ghost's clothing is dark colors he would mix up y'alls clothing and wouldn't notice.

“Hey, Simon?” “Yeah?” “Is that my shirt?“ He peers down realizing it is in fact your shirt.”Ah, yeah sorry love I guess I grabbed the wrong thing.” He begins to take it off until you tell him it's okay and that he actually looks really good in it.

KÖ𝙉𝙄𝙂

The moment König laid eyes on you he was blown away.

He doesn't see people with your style so he thought you were very unique. He asks you why dress that way and why your makeup looks so crazy. He doesn't mean to come off as rude or anything he's just not used to it and he likes to hear you talk about your interests.

König would shyly ask if you could make his face look like yours. He would let you sit on his lap and watch as you meticulously drew on his face with black liner, on top of the white paint. He'd have a dumb smile on his face after you finish.

Just like Ghost, König would also go to concerts with you. If you were on the shorter side he would pick you up and put you on his shoulders so you could get a better view. The dude is like a rock so when people get a little too aggressive with their thrashing he has you stand behind him so you don't get hit.

Likes when you put your hair up and let strands of hair fall down, thinks it's really hot. König would stare non-stop until you called him.

Wouldn't say anything about your gore interest but he would indulge you in ways he killed/kills people. [cough cough König finishers cough]

He told you about how one time he sniped a man and his brain splattered out on a wall behind him. Or once he snapped a dude's neck so hard you could see the bone about to come out.

König watches closely as your eyes get big and you squirm in your seat as he goes on and on about his war stories.

He glares at anyone who would dare say anything negative about you. That includes his coworkers and supervisors.

König could not tell you the name of the bands you listen to because of the font. He says it looks all scrambled and he couldn't tell which letter is which.

When you told him you thought he was a little intimidating the first time you he giggled and told you, he felt the same way too. People think y'all are like that one scary goth couple in school.

𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑻

The first time Thomas saw you he instantly fell in love.

He couldn't stop staring at you, he thought you were sent by the devil himself as a gift.

He is so interested in you especially since you guys look the same. You have long hair, he has long hair. You wear intricate corpse paint that covers your face, he delicately sews people's faces together to cover his.

Thomas wouldn't allow Hoyt [derogatory] to make fun of you. He takes a lot of shit from him but he draws the line at his boyfriend being made fun of.

Thomas prefers your hair over his. His isn't really taken care of. It's all greasy and messy so if you took the time to brush and style it, he'd probably cry.

No one is that nice to him besides his mom. So it'd be up to you to spoil him.

I imagine the type of music you listen to isn't common in Texas, especially on rural Texas radio so he would be very interested in it.

He would have you play it while he's dealing with his victims because he finds the screaming to be very annoying and sometimes headache inducing.

Tommy always keeps an out for you to make sure you don't pass out from the heat. He'd literally be standing there, watching you with your paint running down your face with a concerned look on his face as you tell him you're fine.

He would let you watch him disassemble bodies. Since you're interested in that stuff Thomas thinks it's the perfect bonding experience.

Thomas would also put your ass to work, I'm sorry to say. He believes everyone should pull their weight including his partner.

While his method of butchering is sloppy, he would still show you how to properly gut a person and how to get the most meat off the bones.

He's happy that you have an interest in gore and he would most definitely make a mask for you. If you were to wear it around he would be so unbelievably happy.

You're wearing his art AND you like it?? A match made in heaven.

If you were too grossed out by the whole canniblism thing Thomas would try and find you other food. There aren't a lot of animals in the area but he would try and catch deer, rabbits, or coyotes.

Thomas might have you lure in other victims, and you may have to change your look-up to be more “approachable” so he would lend you some of his clothes. They'd be too big but he and his mom know how to tailor.

He would only do this if you felt comfortable with it, he would never want to put you in harm's way.

I think Thomas would do a lot to make sure you're okay. He doesn't get that luxury and he is afraid of you leaving him for someone else.

You would have to reassure him that you wouldn't leave him because he's pretty insecure about himself and being around Hoyt and Monty does not help.

[wearywinchester]

Back To You

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When putting yourself in danger for the sake of saving Dean leaves you lost in the woods, Dean is less than thrilled until he finally finds you again.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: angst, injury, mentions of blood, swearing, comfort, fluff

Dean was livid in that moment, and rightfully so. Any and every hunt has the potential to be dangerous no matter what it is, no matter how many times you’ve hunted that very same kind of monster. Each and every hunt is different and someone is always bound to get hurt, whether it be the hunter or the person you’re there to save.

That idea was something he could handle, something he could prepare himself for. But he was never ready when that person was you.

You’d gone and done it this time. You went and spiked his worry, his fear, sent it sky high all for the sake of saving him. To him, nothing was worth losing you, especially not himself. The fact that he was worth enough to someone to risk their own life just to keep him safe was laughable to him, especially when it was you who held him in such a high regard.

Of course you did. He didn’t give himself enough credit, he didn’t give himself any credit at all. There was no one who hated Dean Winchester more than he did himself, and that very feeling was something that boiled over that hunt.

Two werewolves. Three hunters against two werewolves seemed like something you could handle. Take that and add it to the fact that you’re in the woods in late fall and it becomes more difficult. Somehow, some way they got the upper hand on the three of you, targeting Dean. Maybe they knew he was a sweet spot to the two of you, maybe it was just dumb luck, but their efforts seemed to work out for them.

There was no way you’d let them do anything to Dean, not if you were there to do something about it and that’s exactly what you did. Against Dean’s wishes you shoved him out of the way before they could, the swipe of her claws grazing across your cheek instead of his. It wasn’t as deep as it probably would have been, but it stung nevertheless. But that was only the very start of Dean’s nightmare, because you’d gone and lured her away before he could stop you.

He knew you. He knew you were strong and he knew you could hold your own, but this isn’t some run of the mill vampire or a phony spirit. It was a werewolf with more than enough of an appetite and twice the strength.

Now here you were, stranded in the woods all by yourself with a dull and bloodied silver blade and a limp in your stride, your ankle strained from tripping in the midst of your fight with fangs and claws. You held your own, you took care of her yourself with more than enough of a struggle on her end. But you had no idea where you were and which direction was the right one, no clue at all just how far you were from Sam and Dean. You didn’t know if that other werewolf got away and came to finish you off.

All you had was yourself and a dead phone, and your own two fists.

It was getting darker out, the cold fall day turning colder now that nightfall was just around the corner. The drizzling rain didn’t help your cause, muddying the path you tried to follow as you navigated through tall trees and fallen leaves. They crunched every time you took a step, the sound near deafening in contrast to the quiet of the woods.

You were too afraid to call out for Dean, didn’t want to draw attention to yourself should it still be lurking. You were an easy target at this point—you were tired and you were weak.

Of all the hunts you’d been on, you can’t remember feeling quite so bad as this one. The scratches on your face burned and ached, the dirt that was surely smeared across it doing nothing to help as you tried your hardest not to touch your cheek. Your ankle throbbed with every step, the pressure placed upon it nearly pushing you to tears as you walked along as quickly as you could, hoping more than anything that you weren’t leading yourself further away from them, further away from Dean.

You knew he’d be mad, you knew he’d be absolutely livid when he finds you. If he finds you. That very thought weighed heavy on your mind and made your stomach twist in knots and swirl with nausea. There was a very real possibility that they wouldn’t, your battery was dead and it was getting all the more dark outside and you knew what your chances were but you tried not to think about it. You tried but it stayed in the back of your mind and tried desperately to push to the front of it.

He’d be pissed, he would and you knew it because putting your own life on the line for the sake of saving his was never something he’d want you of all people to do. You wouldn’t be surprised if he asked you to stop hunting with them, and the thought alone made a pang run through your heart.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thought, brows furrowed as you took a deep breath. You’d hunted a myriad of different monsters, more than you can count and certainly a terrifying array of them. They were deadly and they were scary, they were dangerous and they were cruel but you couldn’t help the fear that settled within you now the sky was nearly completely dark. The lack of moonlight had worked against you, nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of you amongst dozens and dozens of trees. Every gust of wind, every noise, everything.

You were scared.

You didn’t dare use your flashlight, too scared to cast attention upon yourself and you found it impossible for anything out there to not be able to spot you. You felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb with the way you heard your heartbeat in your ears louder than ever. Or the way your breaths were shaky and labored and unable to be controlled.

The rain that drizzled a little heavier over you was beginning to seep through your clothes, chilling any exposed skin and wetting your hair almost completely by this point. You were sure it’d be worse if there weren’t any trees, but then again you didn’t get so lucky.

You couldn’t help but remind yourself how utterly on your own you were, body stiff as you walked along in the mud. The mere sound of a stick snapping in the near distance had you on edge, tears welling in your eyes as you weighed over the options of your fate in your mind in a taunting loop of negativity and fear.

Your lip quivered and your hands shook, clutching tight to your bag as you looked all around you. Tears mixed with rain to the point where you couldn’t even tell if you’d been crying real tears if it weren’t for the pressure behind your eyes and the ache you felt from trying to suppress them. You weren’t going to bother trying to act tough in that moment, there was no need when it was just you.

It wasn’t until then that you heard that voice, the gruffness of that ever familiar voice in an echo of your name. Your heart flipped in your chest and at first you thought you might have just imagined it, might have just thought you heard it amongst the rain, but it sounds again.

“Dean?” You said softly, disbelief in your voice before you raised it. “Dean!”

You picked up your pace in his direction, glancing over your shoulder cautiously. The tears rolled faster and your heart rate spiked, that fear in your mind lessening a fraction at the sound of his voice even if it was still not as close as you’d like.

You overlooked the pain in your ankle no matter how much it hurt, too distracted with finding your way back to Sam and Dean. The sooner you found them the sooner you could get out of those woods, and the sooner you could get cleaned up in a place much kinder on the eyes than tree after tree in a rain-dampened and dark area.

It felt like something straight out of a movie and you were waiting for the antagonist to pop out in front of you, waiting to be preyed upon by some big scary monster and you knew that wasn’t so far out of the question for you. Not with the life you had.

The distinct sound of sticks snapping and leaves crunching behind you was unmissable, unmistakable as you tensed. You swallowed thickly at the slosh of the footfalls behind you, heart hammering nearly too loud to hear anything else. It wasn’t until you felt a hand grab your elbow that you screamed once more, expecting to hear Dean call out from farther away at the sound of it. You screamed and you turned around, eyes wide with fear.

“Sweetheart, it’s me. It’s Dean,” he rushed, voice calmer than you expected.

It took you a moment for you to realize, for your eyes to bounce over his face and for the fear to settle and your frown was inevitable as you fought your tears.

In a matter of seconds you wrapped your arms around him, face hidden against his chest and you didn’t care how much it hurt the scratches adorning your cheek. That tension you held loosened considerably in his embrace, and it’s something he didn’t fail to notice. You missed the way his brows furrowed as his chin rested atop your head or the purse in his lips, the way he squeezed his eyes shut or the look of relief he gave Sam with traces of worry and anger within it.

He found you now, and you were safe.

You were quiet as you stood at the small bathroom counter, leaned over the edge a little as you cleaned around the scratches on your cheek. You were proving to do an awful job and you could see it by the look on Dean’s face when he walked in the bathroom. He could see the way you winced even from where he stood by the bed of the motel room, he saw it and he knew you hated doing it.

“C’mon,” he said, patting the counter a couple times.

“I got it, Dean,” you say softly, the sharp gasp you take in immediately after doing nothing to help you.

You sigh as you drop the dampened cotton ball in his palm, hopping up on the counter. You saw the dimples by the corners of his mouth and you saw the crease between his brows, telling of just how discontent he truly was and it had you biting the inside of your other cheek.

He was quick to clean it up with a light hand, careful not to hurt you as his other hand settled on your cheek to hold you still. You could feel the tension in the small room, could cut it with a knife, and it wasn’t going to go away any time soon so long as none of you said anything.

You tried to think about the way his breath fanned over your face instead, soft and warm in the pattern of his breathing as he cleaned you up with all the gentleness in the world. Gentle and tender despite the frustration simmering in the pit of his stomach, threatening to spill.

Actually, it did.

“We gonna talk about what happened today?” He asked, voice quiet and tone angry as his brow raised a fraction.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you mumble, averting your gaze as you turned your head, only for him to redirect it back as he finished what he was doing.

“‘Course not,” he said, breathing out a huff through his nose.

You roll your eyes and hop down from the counter, hearing his sigh as he tossed the dirtied cotton ball in the trash along with the others you’d gone through, his lips pressing together momentarily as he followed behind you into the room.

You still weren’t over it, you were still shaken despite this being your own fault. It was your fault and you knew that, you were the one playing hero and while you didn’t regret it for a second, you were still on the verge of tears. You were still cold and upset and still reaping the consequences of your decision by the pain on your face and in your ankle.

“Yeah, ‘course not,” you say, tightening his flannel around your shoulders before digging around in your duffel bag.

It didn’t last very long as he grabbed your hand and spun you around to face him, his displeasure more than evident.

“Please don’t try and save me, sweetheart, I’m not—”

“What, you’re not worth it?” You say, watching his lips purse deeper. “You might think that about yourself but I never will, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

“You nearly died, Y/n. Do you understand that?” He says, voice a little louder now. “You almost died out there all by yourself. How the hell am I supposed to live with that? How easy do you think it’d be for me to go on every damn day knowing you died just to save my ass?”

You were quiet for a moment as you looked up at him, brows knitted together. “Well, I’m not dead, Dean. So I guess you don’t have to.”

He scoffed as he threw his hands up, letting one fall back to his side as the other pinches the bridge of his freckled nose for a moment or two. He hates how you’re brushing this off, hates how you don’t know just how much of a wreck he was. Sam had never seen his brother so distraught, had never seen him so turned upside down the moment you were lost. It tore him to shreds, tore him apart from the inside out until he found you and that feeling still won’t stop. It won’t stop because he knows this won’t be the last time you do it.

“I’m not worth it, alright? I’m not worth layin’ six feet under, sweetheart. And not by the hands of some freakin’ werewolf either,” he says, frustrated as ever.

Your brows furrow deeper, frown tugs down deeper as you look at him.

“You think you’re the only one that gets to protect people? You think you’re the only one that gets to save someone? Is that what you think, Dean?”

“Y/n—”

“You might not give a damn about yourself, in fact, I know you don’t give a crap,” you say, your finger poking into his chest. “But I do. I care.”

You hated the way your voice faltered and the way your lip wobbled under the pressure of your tears, hated the way those very tears glossed over your eyes, ready to fall with a mere blink. He saw it, he saw it all and he pulled you close before you could crumble completely.

His hand ran over your head, hair still rain dampened and he could feel just how cold you still were. He could feel the way you shook, no matter how faint it was. You could act tough all you want, but he knew you were hurting and he knew when to shut up. You were stronger than he’d ever be, that’s how he always saw you and always will. But you fall apart sometimes and he’ll pick up the pieces without hesitation every single time. Every time.

“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m still here,” he murmured, words soft against your skin as he kissed your forehead.

You nod against him then, sniffling softly. You take a little while for your tears to die down, a little while of the soft sways of his embrace and it’s one that’s near bone crushing, of the way his thumb brushed back and forth against your shoulder blade, or the way his stubble felt brushing against your forehead.

It took a little while until you pulled back a bit, looking up at him with that look that turns his heart to mush every single time you give it. He sees those scratches on your face and he’s biting his tongue, fighting the anger that’s beginning to bubble up once more. Not at you, but at that werewolf that was two seconds from tearing his sweetheart to shreds. The thought made him furious but he pushed it down for your sake.

You lean on your toes and kiss him softly, one that lingered as his hand settled on your cheek. He kissed you once, twice, three times more as his nose bumps against your own, foreheads pressed against one another as your hand presses lightly around the back of his neck, your thumb brushing along his jaw. It set him at ease, you know it did.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere either,” you murmur, feeling his nod against you, felt his hum against your lips before he kisses you again. You knew he wouldn’t let it go that easily, knew it for a fact, but he’d bring it up some other day.

He’d always find you, you could count on it—he’d always find his way back to you.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @campingmonkey @agalliasi @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho

[notanotherreidgirl]

could you do a fic where spencer is recovering from that leg injury, and doctor says not to be active, and during sex he would kinda have to move it and they tried and it didn’t work, so reader teases him until he’s begging, verge of tears i mean,for a handjob or blowy (slut for a desperate spencer🙏)

guess who's back and as long-winded as ever?!

wc: 1100

Warnings: edging, light degradation, handjob, masturbation, fingering

Spencer’s eyes went as wide as saucers when you emerged from the bedroom wearing one of his old college t-shirts. His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again but no words came out. Ignoring him, you flitted around the kitchen and packed away the last of the dishes. You saved the coffee mugs for last, reaching up for the highest shelf and letting his shirt ride up to your lower back, revealing your noticeable lack of underwear. At the same moment, Spencer’s book hit the floor with a resolute thud.

Normally he would be out of his seat in a flash - coming up behind you and dropping to his knees without a moment’s hesitation. But Spencer wasn’t normally recovering from being shot in the knee so he could only watch as you sashayed through the apartment, bending over at every opportunity and letting the oversized shirt slip from your shoulder. By the time you were done, the bulge in his pajama pants was too prominent to be concealed.

But ever the tease you pretended not to notice, sinking to your knees in front of him to retrieve his book. You made a show out of reaching under the couch and lowering your face mere inches from the apex of his thighs despite the fact that the book was clearly within reach. You let out a feigned huff of frustration, your warm breath fanning over his center and he let out a strangled moan. “Shit, I want you so much. It’ll be ok, I swear.”

But much to his chagrin, you sat back on your heels instead of coming in closer. You were used to his empty promises, especially as he recovered. He had even managed to convince you to fuck him three weeks ago, insisting that if you were on top there wouldn’t be any weight on his knee. And it might’ve worked if Spencer didn’t get greedy - unable to resist bucking his hips up into you and taxing his injury. To make matters worse, he refused to admit he was in pain until he couldn’t hold back anymore and you had to pry yourself away to avoid hurting him. That little stunt earned him another month out of the field and a very disapproving look from his doctor. But that paled in comparison to what you put him through.

Weeks of teasing. Weeks of traipsing about in your underwear, of lingering touches that lead to nothing, of pushing him closer and closer to the edge. “Oh really? You know what happens when you make promises you can’t keep, darling.”

Spencer whined as you trailed a finger up one thigh and down the other, skipping over the area where he wanted you the most. He was desperate, beyond desperate and tears were already welling up in his eyes. “Uh-uh, tears aren’t gonna get you anywhere,” you cupped his face and wiped his cheeks with your thumbs. “Let me hear you ask properly”

“Please, I’ll take anything. Just please-” he broke off, noting your bored look. He knew what you wanted to hear but the words stalled in his throat. He looked down, contemplating his next words when sighed and began to move away. “Wait! Please, wait! I-I want you to touch my cock. I need it so, so bad. Anything - a blowjob, a handjob! I just need you”

“How can such a pretty mouth say such dirty things?” You unearthed the book from the floor with a satisfied smile and handed it to Spencer. “Here’s the deal. I’ll give you exactly what you want as long as you read to me but the second you stop, I stop. Can you handle that?”

He nodded vigorously and took the book without hesitation, eagerly flipping it open and beginning to read. He started off strong, reading loud and clear as you undressed him. He even managed to get out one last coherent sentence when you wrapped a hand around his base but he faltered when you started to move, having been denied for too long to maintain even a semblance of control. Just a few strokes later he was a babbling mess, desperately trying to read the words on the page but his vision was clouded with warm tears and his mind was overcome with pleasure.

True to your promise you pulled away the moment he stopped reading, pursing your lips in disapproval. “I guess you don’t need it that badly”

“No, no, no! I do - really I do! Please, pretty please let me try again. I can do it. I can be good,” he wiped his face with his sleeve as he pleaded and you pretended to consider, tapping your chin with a finger. You reached out for the book. “Let me help you, then. I know how dumb you get when you’re needy.”

He gave it to you without question, thoroughly surprised at your leniency and not daring to question you. “I’m sorry, I just can’t think when I’m around you”

“I know, baby.” But rather than put the book away like he was expecting you opened it right back up and settled into the armchair opposing him, spreading your legs wide and starting at the top of a random page as he watched dumbstruck. You lightly trailed your fingers up your thigh, bunching his shirt above your waist so he could have a full view of your drenched core. Spencer made a move to get up but you stopped him dead in his tracks with a stern glare, firmly pointing back at the couch before resuming. You read slowly, matching the tantalizing pace with which you ran a finger up your folds, lightly circling your clit before dipping back down to your entrance.

“Don’t do this. Please just give me one more chance. I need it, please” But Spencer’s begging fell on deaf ears. You were in your own world, reading the words without processing them as you touched yourself. It didn’t take long before you felt the tension in your lower stomach come to a head and at the very last moment, you tore your eyes from the page to see Spencer shifting about on the couch in a desperate attempt to gain friction without further injuring his leg, cock flushed nearly as red as his face.

That did it to you every time - seeing him absolutely ruined and completely under your spell. You came with a shout of his name, calling for him when you knew he could only watch. You slammed the book shut when you finished and tossed it on the seat next to him. “Still want to try again?”

Blurb Masterlist

[helpimhyperfixating]

Sneak Attack In Morioh - Jotaro x Reader

Word Count: 1767

The Speedwagon Foundation had silently snuck you into Morioh on the same boat as Mr. Joestar. The only difference was no one was awaiting your arrival. Spending the entire time in the hull, you waited and bided your time until you could silently and unnoticeably slip off board and into Morioh.

There was something going on in S-city and since Morioh was located not too far from it, you had been put on the same boat, only to travel to S-city at night.

That was the plan at least.

Slipping from the hull onto the deck, you looked over the docks, only to freeze in your steps. The one person you didn't want to encounter in your trip through Morioh was standing right there, looking out at sea.

Jotaro Kujo, your longtime friend.

You and him had been through hell and back together. First in high school, then fighting DIO, then college and other roaming Stand users; you went through it all with him. So, if he knew you were here and where you were going, he would either try to stop you, or want to come with you. Neither were a viable option at the moment. If he were to spot you, his stubbornness and persuasive abilities would certainly mean your stealth mission would end. And so you immediately brought out your Stand, manipulating the light and making yourself invisible.

You knew Jotaro knew your Stand better than anyone else. Almost as well as you did. So you knew you had to hightail it out of there before he figured out you were there, despite the fact that you were near invisible to the naked eye.

With a quick move you hopped off the boat and stayed low as you ran, making near to no noise as you got out of there, Jotaro never moving from his spot by the water.

- - - -

Running through the streets, you looked behind yourself only to barrel straight into someone.

The sudden impact caused you to lose concentration and your Stand dissipated, fading back into your body after releasing the invisibility.

"Ow." You whined childishly as you had landed harshly on your butt. Looking up, you saw a man with green hair and stylish clothing. His face held an expression of shock before it turned more serious, glaring at you - or more precisely, where your Stand had been.

Immediately getting up you looked at him with slightly widened eyes. He was most definitely a Stand user.

Taking note of his stance, you jumped into a defensive pose. And you were right to, for not even a second later, the man jumped forward.

"Heaven's Door!"

A Stand popped out from him but you were faster. Jumping backwards, you vaulted onto your hands and pushed yourself as far away as possible, summoning your Stand to send a glare of light at him and blind him so you could run away.

You had no time for this right now, if you weren't at the train station in 4 minutes you'd miss the train and have to wait until the morning for another, meaning missing your target and also being at risk of being discovered by those in Morioh. And so you booked it.

- - - -

Eight hours. That was all it took for you to complete the mission you were given. Someone had stolen important research from the Speedwagon Foundation and you were tasked with bringing it back. When you arrived at the scene, relief washed over you to see they had not been able to crack the lock of the briefcase where the information was in yet.

Getting only minimal injuries, mainly a knife cut on your arm from one of the scientists when you first took hold of the briefcase, you got out of there in record time without setting off any further alarms or causing more uproar.

All in all, a mission well done.

And now here you were, handing the briefcase over to the people of the Speedwagon Foundation on the boat.

"Thank you, Miss L/N. We are departing in about an hour."

"That's alright. I think I'm going to stay here in Morioh though, you never know when you might need an extra ally. So I'm going to stay here and help Dr. Kujo."

"Very well. Stay safe."

"You too!" You waved at the man before sprinting away from the docks.

It was now about 9AM and you figured it was about time to visit your friend. A perfect plan then came into your mind. This man had never been scared or surprised. No matter what you tried, everything failed. But now? He had no clue you were here. This time it should work! Right?

Using your Stand to turn yourself invisible again, you walked into the town, only to see the green-haired man again. He was talking to a kid with a pompadour while looking very disgusted.

Curious, you snuck closer.

"I need Mr. Kujo's phone number." Holy shit you hit the Jackpot. "I encountered a Stand user last night but she disappeared almost immediately. She has to be on the loose here somewhere." Ah, that's less fortunate.

"Why don't I phone him and we can meet up."

"Oi, Josuke!"

Two boys came running up to the pair you were observing, one of them very short while the other had scars over his face.

This was getting very busy now so you moved back a little bit. Letting them all do their thing. The one named Josuke phoned Jotaro and you saw him nod a few times before hanging up and motioning the others to follow.

Taking that as your que, you silently moved along, staying far enough away to not let any possible sound you made be noticed, but close enough that you wouldn't lose them. You didn't concern yourself with their conversation because it wasn't really your business, and if they were talking about you being enemy? Well then that would have to do for now. That misconception would hopefully be cleared up soon.

Following them for twenty minutes, you reached a hill and all the way at the top, you could already see your target waiting there.

Making sure you stayed behind the small group of boys you had been following, you hid completely from his view to make sure he really wouldn't spot you. There were very few signs how you could see where you were when invisible, but Jotaro knew them all. So, hiding was your best bet.

As you approached though, you could feel the maniacal grin growing on your face. You were on a hill. It was prime material to jump him and push him down it. Now that had to surprise him for sure, right?

Just then, they all congregated and you focused back on the here and now.

After sharing a few greetings, the green haired man got straight to the point. "Last night I encountered a Stand user. They bumped into me and I saw their Stand. When I tried to use Heaven's Door they somehow were fast enough to jump back and escape my range before blinding me and disappearing."

"They anticipated Heaven's Door?" The short one spoke up while you walked a little backwards, positioning yourself there where you could perfectly have a running start at the man in white. There was a gap between the green haired man and the one named Josuke for some reason but it provided you with a perfect path right towards your target.

"They must have. So it is safe to bet they know of our abilities. And now they're just roaming around, somewhere out there."

"Rohan." Jotaro interjected and you quickly got in a stance, ready to go. "You said they blinded you and disappeared? How?"

Knowing that if you didn't hurry you'd be exposed, you ran.

"Indeed. There was a glare of light and-" Whatever Rohan was about to say was interrupted when Jotaro suddenly flew backwards, the exact Stand user they had been talking about appearing out of thin air, having tackled the marine biologist.

Jotaro let out a noise of surprise, summoning Star Platinum and using the World mid-air before looking down to see you, a giddy yet evil grin on your face.

The utter surprise at seeing you actually here caused him to have no time left to do anything else so when time started moving again, he just fell down, making contact with the hill as he started rolling down it together with you.

"Mr. Jotaro!"

"Mr. Kujo!"

"Ah!"

Several shouts of surprise rang out as the two of you barrelled down the hill but you quickly came to a stop, you on top of Jotaro and laughing while Jotaro was on the bottom still a little stunned.

Quickly sitting up so you were sitting on his stomach, you pumped your fists in the air, shouting. "Fucking gottem!!!"

The Duwang, who had been running down the hill to reach the two of you, stopped in their tracks, seeing such a dumb yet lighthearted display.

They were even more surprised when Star Platinum appeared and lightly pushed you to the side, causing you to face plant in the grass while Jotaro stood up, completely unharmed.

"Oi, Jotaro that was mean!" You said as you lifted your face from the grass.

"It's your own fault." Was all he said back as he dusted himself off before looking over his back at his coat and sighing loudly. "You ruined my coat."

"Hehe, sorry. But hey, admit it, I got you! Surprised to see me here?" You waggled your eyebrows.

"Consider me confounded." He deadpanned and you pouted. "Josuke, do you mind?" He turned to the pompadour kid and said kid seemed to snap out of his stupor, stepping forward and bringing out his Stand for Jotaro, never really taking his surprised eyes off of you.

You watched the Stand remove all the green grass stains from his coat and softly 'ooh'ed at it, in awe by the Stand.

"Alright, who are you?" Rohan then glared at you and you squeaked a little at the hostility in his look.

"This is Y/N L/N, an old friend of mine." Jotaro introduced you, motioning his hand to you.

Slyly smiling to yourself, you grabbed onto his hand, making him turn his head to face you and sigh, getting your meaning as he pulled you up from the ground without any visible effort.

"Friend?!" Josuke exclaimed in shock while you let go of Jotaro's hand, dusting yourself off.

"Why are you here, Y/N?"

[dokoni-mo]

She Truly Was || Muzan Kibustsuji x F!Reader

Summary: Enmu helps Muzan remember you.

SFW // Fluff with small amounts of Angst

Word Count: 4626

WARNINGS: *slight Mugen Train spoilers*, slight mentions of implied sexual activity, obsessive(?) behavior, Muzan is soft for one person only, some angst, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, I also barely proofread this lol

A/N: I've had this in my head for a while and decided to write it down. This is largely just a compilation of scenarios I made in my head to fall asleep at night when I was stressing over exams and stuff, all loosely thrown together with a plot. This is my first time writing for demon slayer, so please be patient! I also am basing a lot of my info about the characters on s1 of the anime, some of the manga, and the wiki. I apologize if something isn't accurate. tldr; I just think he's neat.

~~

Despite having lived through thousands of years with hundreds of stormy nights in the midst, Muzan Kibutsuji never learned to appreciate them.

Something about nights like those in Japan just never sat right with the demon. It wasn't that they were too dreary, not at all. Life as a demon was plenty dreary. On the other hand, it wasn't that they were to lively either. No one ever went out on stormy nights; demon or not. Perhaps it was just because the rain was another reminder of the singularity that was being a demon. The poignant pitter patter just seemed to have a way of whispering to whoever heard it, telling them the most unpleasant yet quiet truths of their lives.

After Muzan's bloody meeting with the lower moons, he had told Enmu his task Muzan had planned for the pitiful, weaker demon. Although he had doubts that Enmu could hear him over the sound of the weaker demon's screams of pain from the blood he gave, Muzan was pleasantly surprised when Enmu understood the orders the first time around. Seeing as though it would cause trouble if the lower moon started to go around bragging about his newfound power and job, Muzan decided it would be best to keep a crimson eye on the demon.

This is what led to the scene before Muzan now.

Muzan had taken Enmu back to one of his many properties scattered across Japan, this one being tucked away in a lush, quiet forest in the middle of seemingly nowhere. The lower moon had not said a word throughout the entire journey there, and still refused to say anything now. Most likely out of fear.

Although it had been a long day of wrangling the lesser worms he called pawns (or "moons" if he was generous), Muzan did not want to show any weakness towards Enmu by resting. To busy himself, Muzan decided to do the tedious work the humans have him do in the job he took to please his human wife.

That insufferable woman.

With his bowler hat placed on his desk, Muzan had taken a seat in his large, leather chair, ordering Enmu to stand at the edge of the desk and face the opposite way. And, for extra edge, he was not to say or do anything.

It had been about two hours since then. The room was filled with only the sounds of Muzan's writing and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Although he ordered it to be that way, Muzan was already sick of it.

Peering his red eyes up from the papers scrawled below him, Muzan fixated his bone-chilling gaze upon the back of Enmu's head. Muzan could see the corners of the lower moon's mouth turned upwards as he faced the wall, presenting himself with an expression of dumb content.

Freak.

Enmu was definately a curious specimen. So eager to die, yet so eager to please Muzan. The demon lord would have been confused if he were not who he was.

Perhaps it was his own boredom setting in, perhaps it was because he wanted to feed his already gargantuan ego, or perhaps it was just because he was tired, Muzan decided to speak up.

"Tell me," Muzan said, his deep, smooth voice making Enmu perk up slightly, "Why is it that are you so loyal to me?"

Enmu took this as an opportunity to finally move, but not without some caution. The lower demon only turned his neck towards Muzan, along with a tilt of his shoulder. Muzan noted the disobedience of orders, but decided to let it slide this time.

The rain must have told him to be generous that night.

"Why, Master Kibustsuji," Enmu said, a faint blush adorning his cheeks, "It is because I am so delighted to be in your presence, and have my power be of service to you."

The demon lord felt his jaw clench at this, his red eyes peering up at the lower moon from under his abyssal lashes. Although Enmu had an... odd, way of putting things, Muzan always did like it when someone stroked his ego, even if all they ever said was the same banter over and over again. He was nearly perfection, afterall.

Muzan sat quietly and pondered Enmu's response for a second, before formulating his own.

"Your power, as you put it," Muzan said, his voice firm, "What is it?"

Enmu's grin widened, "Dream Manipulation, Master. I can enter, manipulate, or control anyone's dreams however I want to. I can use it to kill from the inside, eating a person spirit first and body second. I can also put people to sleep."

Muzan wasn't necessarily impressed by this, but he wasn't disappointed either. An ordinary power, really. Nothing that could ever rival his own.

However...

Muzan's gaze flickered down to the surface of his desk. A flicker of a long lost yet not forgotten feeling bubbled deep inside of his being. A mere spark of light, really, a piece of warmth he felt from long ago, lost to the wayside by the vestiges of time.

It was something Muzan thought he would never experience again.

Dream manipulation, huh?

It might be worth a try.

Muzan looked back up to Enmu, sharpening his gaze, "Tell me, are you able to give... pleasant dreams?"

Enmu was surprised to hear this come from Muzan to say the absolute least. He took this as another opportunity to disobey orders and turn to Muzan again, this time fully and whole-heartedly. The lower moon looked right into those blood red eyes, looking for any sign of a rare flicker of humor or joking.

Muzan's gaze was serious, poised as ever.

Muzan was being for real.

Taking a pause to swallow, Enmu allowed his soft smirk to return to his gray, pale face.

"Why," the lower moon retorted, "I can, Master, yes."

Muzan eyed the lesser demon for a good second at his response.

This move was risky. It could damage his image. Yet, if he was to do this with any of his pawns, he would do it with Enmu. Enmu seemed to have no intent on harming Muzan or his image in any way; he was far too loyal for that.

Besides, if someone were to question the might of Muzan, he could just prove them wrong.

Muzan leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and lacing his fingers together, wrapping them around his knee. His icy gaze still on Enmu, he spoke again.

"I wish to see a pleasant dream."

Muzan nearly rolled his eyes when he saw just how wide Enmu's grin had gotten and just how flushed his face got.

It was repulsive.

But, if it meant what Muzan thought it would mean...

It was worth stomaching.

After a breif moment used to compose himself, Enmu's smile faded to normal again. He pulled up the sleeves to his coat.

"I will give you a dream where you will experience the happiest days of your life over again, Master Kibutsuji," the lower moon stated, "Is this to your liking or would you prefer something else?"

"No," Muzan stated flatly, "That is fine."

Perfect, even.

Enmu smiled widely one last time, holding out his arm and pointing it at the demon lord.

"Sweet dreams, my lord." Was the last thing Muzan heard before falling into a deep, deep sleep.

~~

"Muzan..."

Despite his blood demon art being so much weaker than his, Muzan wasn't quite ready for just how Enmu put him into a dream like that. Muzan's headache had grown ten-fold now, and he could feel that his face was scrunched.

"Muzan..."

Slowly but surely regaining his full consciousness, Muzan could first feel that he was in different clothes than what he had been wearing before. These ones were lighter, softer, and much more airy than his normal suit. Squinting open his crimson eyes, he saw that he was in what appeared to be a long, dark, flowing kimono.

The second thing Muzan could feel was that it was rather cool where he was, and that he appeared to be lying on the ground. Sifting his weight slowly, he could then feel that his head was lain upon what felt like two soft, plush pillows firmly squished together.

The third thing, however, took him a little longer to discern quite that it was. At first, he thought it was a pair of chopsticks running across his scalp over and over again. Upon, further thought, however, Muzan was further snapped back into awareness.

Those were not chopsticks.

Those were fingers.

All too familiar fingers.

"Muzan..!"

Muzan felt a stir deep down inside of him. He recognized this feeling, this touch, this warmth. It had been so, so long since he had felt like this. How long was it again? It had to be an eternity ago. An eternity wrapped within all time time in the world.

Muzan was speechless. Muzan couldn't move. Muzan was struck from deep within, and nothing in the world could ever compare to its blow.

"Muzan!"

Although the calling of the demon's lord name had been going on for some time now, he was just now able to respond.

Tilting his chin upwards towards the voice's source, Muzan nearly fell to bits right then and there. If he was someone else, he would have wept deep, earnest tears at the very sight of the being above him. For everything and nothing surrounded him as he studied the bright, radiant face above him, and nothing else seemed to exist other than that smile.

Other than her.

Her.

Oh, her, her, her.

His beloved. His sun, moon and stars. The ground beneath his feet and the air around him. His joy and love, his woes and sorrow. His fears and excitement. His warmth and his cold.

You.

You were really here.

"I was wondering if you were ever gonna wake up," you said, a faint laugh behind your voice, "You were out for so long!"

This scene was all too familiar to Muzan. He had replayed it in his head countless times, as if it were the only record left in the world.

He knew what this day was, and he knew all of your lines.

How could he ever forget?

Every moment he had ever spent with you had been a blessing.

Right now, his head was cradled in your lap, your soft, delicate fingers combing through his hair oh so gently as he had slept. It was deep into the night, and ordinarily Muzan would not be sleeping at this time. However, your touch was just so relaxing to him.

Everything about you was.

Today, you and him had spent the night wandering through the garden of your home together, chatting about anything and everything. It was only about two months into your relationship with Muzan. Muzan had first come to your home with the intention of eating everyone within the residence, but once he saw your face, watched you, saw your heart, your spirit, your you, he just couldn't.

He just...

couldn't.

You were human, yes.

But Muzan didn't care.

He was in love with you.

Muzan had yet to tell you the truth about him, however.

But that could come later.

"Muzan, are you alright?" He heard your voice echo again, snapping him out of his trance. He saw your face painted with worry, making his own features soften.

His darling angel. If only you knew just how much it pained him to see you with anything other than a smile.

Muzan reached his hand upwards, steadily maneuvering his fingers to brush your hair behind your ear and cup your warm cheek. He was shocked at how real you felt, shocked at just how similar it felt to all those years ago.

Perhaps Muzan had to give Enmu a reward.

The demon lord caressed your cheek gingerly with his cold, calloused thumb, savoring in just how warm your flesh was compared to his. For the first time in what felt like eons, Muzan felt a smile adorn his handsome features. Not one put on just to appease the humans around him, but genuine. The type of smile only you got to see.

Only you.

"I'm more than alright, my darling." He responded, his voice soft and warm, without the normal venom he gives to his subordinates. A voice reserved restrictively for you.

Finally, you let a soft grin come over your heavenly face again, making all seven of Muzan's hearts swell.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up," you said, "But it's about to be dawn soon. I don't want you to get a burn, so let's go in the house again, okay?"

Ah yes, the lie Muzan told you. He, of course, couldn't be with you in the sunlight (as much as he wanted to). So he had told you that he had a rare disorder that made him extra prone to sunburns and heatstroke.

Just something to keep you safe from the truth.

His soft smile still adorning his features, Muzan gave you a nod as he slid his head off of your lap. Since you were on your knees, you were quicker to stand than him. Brushing off your kimono quickly, you offered one of your hands to Muzan to help him stand, of which he gladly took. He had long since forgotted just how perfectly your hand fit into his, along with how radiant your kimono made you look.

Once he was back on his feet, Muzan couldn't help but to hold your arms, holding you a few feet away from him to simply admire you for a moment, his crimson eyes doing laps around your face and body.

You were perfect to him.

Every single thing about you was without flaw in his eyes. Not one curve of your body was too shallow or too wide. Not one strand of your hair was misplaced or without poise. Not one feature on your face took away from your radiant beauty. And you had not one bad bone inside of your body.

Muzan was never one to believe in angels.

However, if anyone in any part of the world were to tell him that you were one of them, straight from the heavens themselves,

He would believe them.

~~

As soon as Muzan stepped through the door, his hand in your own, the scene before him changed in one giant, peaceful flash of white light.

Before him now was no longer the house that he had shared with you all those years ago. Now, in its place, was a beautiful, lush springtime garden, all dredged under the cover of the night. It was not devoid of light, however. There were a few lanterns afloat in the water of the stream, as well as some within the structure of the small bridge that went over top of it. Flowers adorned every nook and cranny of the space, and the occasional insect or bird would make a brief appearance.

A small slice of paradise, just for you and Muzan Kibutsuji.

Fearing that you were no longer by his side, Muzan turned his head. His fears were quickly subsided when he saw you there next to him. Your delicate hands were placed on the railing of the bridge, and your eyes were fixated on the calm water below, almost as if it were a window into the heavens above. There was a small smile plastered on your face, and the delicate lights illuminated each of your features so perfectly.

Muzan knew this night.

This was the night he told you the truth.

The truth about him, about his "condition", about where he went for days on end, about why he couldn't walk with you in the sun, about everything.

This was the one night Muzan had ever felt fear.

"Is it really true, Muzan?" You asked, your gaze still fixated on the water below, "Are you really a demon?"

Muzan felt his lips part in small surprise. Even though he had replayed this night time and time again in his mind, it felt as if this were all happening for the first time over again.

Enmu really was good at this.

Muzan wet his lips before responding, setting his gaze on your precious, beautiful face and refusing to move it, "Yes, my love. It is true. I would not lie to you about this, I..."

A pause to collect this thoughts, before he could continue, "I kept it from you to protect you, (Y/N). I did not want any harm to come to you. My darling, I... I love you. My love for you knows no bounds. You are the stars that shine at night, and you are the shining moon above. Each time I look upon you, all I can stand to think of is how deep my love for you runs. I... I need you, (Y/N). I do not wish for you to be frightened of me, my angel. I would never, not ever harm you, nor let any harm come to you."

You still weren't looking at Muzan, yet your smile had yet to falter. Muzan felt a bubble of nervousness in his gut. Although he knew your response to his words already, even thinking of this moment never failed to make his stomach churn. He hoped his words to you were enough. He doubted that he had ever said anything more truthful in his entire life.

After a long pause of silence between the two of you, you closed your eyes and widened your smile. Then, you opened your eyes again, finally turning to face your lover. You looked Muzan right in the eyes, seemingly unfazed that you were standing so dangerously close to the most powerful being alive.

You were so brave.

Your heart was so big.

Muzan felt so overwhelmed.

"Muzan," you said, your cheeks dusting a light pink.

What you said next to him, Muzan could never get out of his head, never forget. No matter how much he tried, he would never not ever forget your words in that moment.

Within that one short, simple phrase, the king of demons fell in love all over again.

"I've always known."

~~

Another flash within his crimson eyes, and the scene had changed again. Nighttime again, of course, but this time within the confines of the bedroom you and Muzan shared. Both you and Muzan were nude, sans the blanket that covered the lower half of your forms. Muzan was on his back, one strong arm wrapped around you, the other cradling the back of his head. Your legs were intertwined with his, and your hair and hands were sprawled out on top of his lean, muscular chest.

Muzan knew this night as well.

It was his most loved night with you, but also his most dreaded.

How cruel fate was.

Stroking your back with the tips of his fingers, Muzan stared up at the ceiling above the two of you. Your body was flush against his, and as warm as ever. He wondered to himself if he was making you cold. If he was, you didn't seem to mind.

After a long period of savoring the silence between you and him, you softly snorted out a cute, soft giggle. This made Muzan angle his chin downward to look at the top of your head.

"What is it?" He questioned.

You giggled again, tilting your head up to look at him. Smiling, you turned your body to lay on top of the demon king, your breasts smushing against his own. Instinctively, Muzan laid his hands on your hips, rubbing small circles into them as he held you in place.

"I just find it funny that even though you profess to have so much stamina, you get tired after only two rounds." You explained to him, a playful mischievousness in your tone and eyes.

Muzan breathed out a smile, reaching up a clawed hand to brush your hair out of your face.

"As I recall it, you were the one complaining it was too much." He quipped back.

You snorted, "As if that ever stopped you before."

The demon let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward to give you a kiss on the forehead. Muzan couldn't remember ever laughing so genuinely before you came along. You truly were the light of his life. You filled his days with the sunlight he had long since forgotten, as well with the warmth no other demon could ever have.

He loved you.

He loved you he loved you he loved you.

And he still did.

He watched as you dropped your gaze to his chest, running your fingers along the flesh.

"Muzan..." you said, your voice more serious than before, "I've been thinking a lot lately..."

The demon king hummed, brushing more hair from your face.

"What has been on your mind, my love?" He asked.

You paused for a second before continuing on. Muzan could practically see the gears turning in your head.

"Well, I... I'm not getting any younger, you know, and I've been thinking. I... I really love you, Muzan. You're the only person I can imagine myself being with for the rest of my life. The other day, I was in town, and I saw the cutest family ever with a husband and a wife and two adorable little children, and it made me think..."

You looked up at him again, giving him a soft smile.

"What if we were to have a family of our own?"

Muzan could feel the same sense of joy, love, and pride in his chest as he did this same moment all those years ago. In this moment, he had never felt closer to you before, nor could you recall ever looking more beautiful.

He wanted nothing more than to be a family with you for the rest of eternity.

"Darling, you know what that would mean, correct?" He questioned you. He had told you long before that demons could only have offspring with other demons, for a demon baby would eat its human mother from the inside and kill her. It was gruesome, and had originally made you cringe at the thought. Muzan had thought your reaction was quite cute.

"Yes, yes, I know," you answered, "and I'd be ready for it. Even if I'm a demon, and even if I can never go out in the sun again or live normally ever again, I'd be happy knowing I got to be with you and our baby for the rest of time."

Muzan gave you a smile in return, his long, white fangs flashing in the light of the night. Leaning forward, he kissed you upon your soft, warms lips, gently pulling you closer to him.

This was one of the thousands of reasons why he loved you.

You were always so sweet, so kind and optimistic. He would admit, he did have a soft spot for you and you alone. But he didn't care. You were worth it. You were worth every single piece of money on planet earth. You were worth the sun the moon and the stars, and all the planets here and beyond. You were worth any injury, any heartache, and any trial or tribulation in the world.

The king of the demons unquestionably, unfathomably, undeniably, adored you.

Pulling gently away from the kiss, Muzan looked deep into your eyes, right past your pupils and looked right into your soul, your very being.

"I would want nothing more, my sunlight."

If Muzan could turn back the hands of time, he would have kept you here with him for the rest of everything and beyond.

For he did not know then that was the last kiss you and him would share.

~~

Another flash, and Muzan was no longer greeted with a visage of the past. Much to his dismay, the demon was now greeted with the sight of his office, with a smiling Enmu creepily watching him from across his desk.

What a fucking freakshow.

Taking in a breath of air through his nose, Muzan sat up tall in his chair again, rubbing the bridge of his nose with this thumb and pointer finger.

You were gone again. You were again nothing up a memory, a whisper of a time from the past.

Muzan could hardly bare it.

He had felt you, held you near him.

And just as fast as you came back, you were gone again.

This was a pain almost too hard to bear.

How long was he asleep for? Muzan really didn't care how long it was.

No amount of time with you was enough.

"Did you have the pleasant dream you wished for, Master?" Enmu asked the demon king. The lesser moon was lucky Muzan was in a somewhat good mood that day.

"Yes." Muzan replied simply, closing his eyes to rub them with his thumb, "Excellent work."

Enmu's smile widened at this, his cheeks turning pink again.

"Why, thank you, Master." He responded, his excitement prevalent in his voice.

Enmu really was a special one.

After composing himself again, Muzan scooted his chair forward up to his desk, fixing his gaze back onto his work sprawled out below.

Muzan just wanted to be alone again after that. He had been alone for years now, but he wanted Enmu out of the room. Although he could have easily ordered it to be so, he again did not want to show any weakness to the lower moon.

Christ on a bike. Muzan was so fucking stubborn.

He remembered all the times you nagged him for it.

Oh, what he would give to have you nag him one last time.

After a long bout of silence, the lesser demon decided to speak up again. He turned his head over his shoulder again to Muzan, trying to sound as naieve and innocent as possible.

"Master," Enmu said, "Where is she now?"

Muzan stopped his movements and glared up at Enmu with a venomous glare. How dare he even refer to you. You were so far above him, how dare Enmu even think to invoke your name.

Though Muzan wanted to kill the other demon right on the spot, he decided against it. He still wanted to see how Enmu would do on his mission. Also, Muzan had to admit that he did feel lighter and more generous after his dream with you. And he supposed it was fair that Enmu had his questions.

Feeling nice, Muzan decided to entertain Enmu's question.

Shifting his gaze back to the papers below, Muzan replied.

"Gone." he said, "The night she asked about a family was the last night I saw her alive. The next day, a group of slayers found her and our house. They knew who she was and that she was human, but killed her anyway. All in attempt to get to me. I found her in a pool of her own blood, limp and cold. The slayers died that same night."

Enmu's smile faded at this, his face taking on a look of shock. Closing his lips into a tight line, Enmu looked away, out of a quiet unconscious respect. Everything made so much more sense to Enmu now. Why the demon king was the way he was, his hatred for slayers, his cold-hearted, murderous nature.

It all clicked into place.

"I... I am sorry for your loss, Master." He said, his voice quieter than normal, "She seemed like a lovely woman."

Muzan peered up at the back of Enmu's head. Through his thick, black lashes.

"Yes..." Muzan said.

"She truly was."

[thefanbasewhore]

Two idiots

Summary || Bucky is an idiot who gets captured during a mission, his girlfriend is an even bigger idiot and goes after him.

Warning/content || This is kinda goofy but kidnapping is a warning I guess? Reader gets a little roughed up.

Paring || Bucky Barnes x female reader (no use of y/n)

Not edited

"Are you kidding me?" Bucky mumbles, head thumping against the metal pole as eyes narrow, watching one of his capturers shuffled in. Which is nothing out of the ordinary, except that trashing girl in his death grip.

Bucky's lips form an unpleased line, frustration shown in the way wrinkles form on the skin of his forehead. Her arms are tied behind her back, no doubt with the same, unbreakable one that burns his skin. She's trashing, fighting to get out of the man's hold but one of the hands tighten against her upper back and force her head forward.

At the very moment she notices her dark haired lover, relief is prominent along her features, a small breath released but she doesn't get much time because the large hand tightenings around her arm, bruises already starting to form as he pushes her forward.

"Ow! Don't be so rough asshole!" Bucky grimaces at her words, watching her face contort with pain. His top lip raises in a snarl, a warning to the man but he doesn't even take the time of day to look at Bucky.

"I thought I told you not to come." She doesn't even get time to reply, instead a small gasp falls from lips as an unexpected hand grips her hair and roughly brings her to her knees. He mentions for her to move over, to be back to back with Bucky before typing them together.

"Leave her alone asshole." Buck's jaw clenches with every word, the belly of muscles popping through showing his disapprovement of the way the man his touching his girl. "Don't be so rough with her."

He expects the stupid, cruel laugh but not the rather large knee cap to the face.

Bucky groans in pain as the skin of his bottom lip rips from the impact, the bitter, metallic tastes floods his mouth as he sucks it between his teeth to nurse the pain. He peers up at the man with a devilish smirk and spits the blood-salvia mixture right on his boots.

"Keep it up Soldat and your little girlfriend will get it." The warning is enough to make his blood run cold and head drop to the floor, not wanting to take the risk.

"Soldat? Bucky, what's going on?" The question is asked as soon as the room is cleared. Bucky feels slightly smaller finger tips reach for his own. Without a second thought he holds them, warming them between his own, a silent 'everything is going to be fine.'

"I told you not to come." Bucky breaks the silence, clearly annoyed, his tone does very little to hide it. Spitting the pooling blood onto the floor once again.

As a a response she rolls her eyes, feeling his fingers intertwine with her own. "It's been three days since you checked in, I knew something was wrong and here you are."

"I specifically told you before I left -."

"I know what you told me!" She sna and pulls her fingers away as irritation wrinkles the skin between her brows.

It's not visible, but Bucky pouts to himself, blindly reaching out to grasp her hands again. "I'm sorry Hun, I just don't want you near these people."

It's not that she's not capable, any other mission she would be his first choice, lover or not. It's the reasoning why, they want the Winter Soldier who is no longer. A part of his life he has promised to get far, far away from her.

"They called you Soldat."

"Not Hydra." Bucky mumbles as large thumb rubs soft circles into the palm of her hand. The heat of his body leaning against her, the suboccipital of his head using her shoulder for some kind of support. He's exhausted from holding himself up, legs ached to stand again. "But they want the Winter Soldier. Keep asking what the words are."

"How did they get you anyways?"

"Don't want to talk about it." Irritation is written across his features, in the way his forehead creases, smile lines dropping downward to follow the line of his pursed lips.

He waits as she struggles, shifting weight from her left to her right, pulling hands apart for the low chance her kidnapper managed to not tighten the zip tie all the way but there is no use.

"Honey, what makes you think If I, a super soldier couldn't get out of here, that you can?"

"Jeeze, you're a grump today." She murmurs as Bucky huffs, baby blues rolling at the comment. Shifting back and forth, pulling as hard as she could until the makeshift cuffs pull the hair on her arms.

"Stop, you're going to hurt yourself." Bucky's tone is sharp, gruff as he leans further against the pole, completely given up.

"Don't Tell me what to do." She argues, Bucky doesn't even have to see it to know she's sticking her tongue out at him.

"Real mature."

"Well you're being mean! I came here to help you --." She begins, but the sharp breath Bucky exhales shows frustration, shifting from hip to hip to relieve the soreness of his backside.

"I told you not to come, I told you three times."

"What was I supposed to do? Leave you here, like this?" Frustration clearly shown by the way her forehead wrinkles and bitting her bottom lip.

"Yes!"

"God, you are so stubborn. What are we supposed to do now? These idiots don't know that you're not the winter soldier anymore." Despite feeling totally hopeless, her eyes run across the room, looking for something, anything to get them free.

"I tried telling them -."

"Wait, wait, they don't know you're the winter soldier anymore." The thought forms a smile on her lips, shifting a little closer to lean into Bucky.

"You just said that." Lack of sleep and food has made Bucky a little sluggish, weak but he's had worse.

"I love you to death, but when I get out of here I'm going to strangle you." Bucky snorts at her words,"I mean that I can say I know the words, given them to you and -."

"They'll untie me." A smile forms at the corner of his lips at the thought. His backside ached, body crunched over for days, he wanted nothing more then to stand.

"Bingo baby, when he comes back I'll tell him." She starts, "We should make noise and get someone's attention."

"God you are so fucking smart, why are you with me?"

"Buck, shut up." He can't help but chuckle, surprisingly clam despite the situation. With soft, circular motions finger tips touch her own, feeling every ridge that so uniquely defined. It's his own way of showing how much he's missed her; it's only been a few days but more then often thoughts of her fill his memory.

"I missed you."

"This isn't the time Buck, we need to get them in her-."

"You look beautiful."

A small smile fills the lines of her lips, bitting down of the fat of the bottom one as she looks down at the floor. "You can't even see me."

"Don't have to honey." The words are sweet and she wishes she could just turn around and kiss his dumb, stupid face with that lopsided grin until he speaks again, "you're the most beautiful girl in the world, even though you can't listen for shit -."

Before she could even comment the clicking of the door has the pair sitting straight as a smirk pulls on lips. "Show time babydoll, start crying."

"You start crying!"

"We have to make it believable! Cry and say that you know the words and the only way you'll give them up is they let you go." He's whisper yelling now as the foot steps clank the floor and every loud echo makes her visibly gringe.

"Okay, okay, shut up already, I am crying to concentrate!" Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, putting on his own little show.

A pair of black boots blur in front of her as false tears blur her vision. While he doesn't touch her, the man sinks to one knee, hovering only inches away. "Why are you crying girl?"

"I want to go home." Bucky has to hold in a laugh at the fake sob but manages to stay quiet. "Let me go, please, please."

***

The moment the words are muttered from the man's mouth, Bucky stiffens, the words effortlessly falling from his lips in German. "Ready to comply."

They don't suspect a think as one reaches over, knife in hand to cut the ropes. Bucky stands at attention, a lonely, dark void in his eyes.

One man observes him, despite how Bucky towers over him. "Soldat, kill her."

The way he stalks over, the darkness in his eyes is so believable that she even think there's a chance that the trigger words did work like intended. Bucky's fingers press against her jawline, angling her to look up. Bucky frowns suddenly, heading the voice behind him. "Kill her."

It all happens so fast, Bucky starts right into action, metal arm connecting with the man's face as blood drips onto the cement only inches away from her current position.

A roar rips from the other man's chest as he fully engages Bucky but with one swift movement Bucky's hand wraps around his throat, hearing gasping breath as Bucky slams him so hard into the ground it winds him.

One at a time they get up, time after time until they both manage to get the upper hand, pulling and pulling at both of his arms until Bucky gets so get up he lets out a grunt as he pushes both away with super human strength.

The problem is one of the men came tumbling right towards her, full body weight knocking her from her seated position into side lying but that's not what worried Bucky. The sound of her skull hitting the ground with such force, it makes him feel sick. With both men down, he hurries towards her.

"Ow." She hisses trying to pick herself up from the ground, the rough rope scratching her wrist. Hands bound behind her back aren't enough to lift her back up, no matter how hard she struggles.

"I gotcha, I gotcha." Bucky's hands find her shoulder, squeezing it affectionately once she's upright and pulling the ropes off with ease. Hands cup her cheeks with side to side motions, steel blues look over for an injury as angles her eyes to meet his own.

The light is suddenly so bright, a thick, white cast makes her wince and as a result squeezing her eyes shit. For a moment everything is gone, a sheet of black as sight disappears behind eyelids. The hand against the back of her head pulls her from a deep void, opening her eyes to a sight of a very, very worried Bucky. His hand is gently tapping against her cheek - to wake her nonetheless, concern laces his eyes, creates a wrinkle of confusion between dark brows.

His lips are moving but there's nothing to hear, he's watching her eyes fall hooded, all color draining as blood pressure starts to decline. It was too hard, she hit her head too hard.

"Honey, hey, hey look at me." It falls on deaf ears, fingers gently prod against the base of her skull, around the curve of her ears, looking for a wound, or even blood but there's nothing. A metal finger presses under her chin, begging falling eyes to give some sign of consciousness. "Does it hurt? Where does it hurt, babe?"

The groan of pain that leaves her lips is a small piece of relief, a hand reaches out to push the hair from frames the soft structure of her face. "Baby? God, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

"Mmmmm." The soft hand reaches out, up the distance of hair arm, over the muscular bulges of his arm before laying flat against the swell of his chest. The hand pushes, trying to create as much distance as possible. It was hard to breath, he was smothering her.

Bucky didn't let up, only pulled her closer until her forehead rest against his lateral clavicle, supporting all her body weight as a nose nuzzles into his chest. He lets out a breath of relief, one hand wrapped around the base of her back, rubbing soothing circles against the skin and the other curling into the base of her skull, with gentle fingers. "You scared me."

"'m fine, Buck."

"Your head sounded like a nut cracking on the pavement." He argues, still examinating for any blood or wound. "I know I call you peanut brain all the time but I was just kidding."

"You are the most annoying -." The words are cut short by a pair of dry, pink lips, lovingly pressing against her own. The full thickness of his bottom lip pressing between her own, long and sweet, filled with unspoken words; Thank goodness you're okay, I don't know what I would do without you.

Bucky pulls away, pressing her forehead against his chest, his arm wrapping around to coddle and away with her. It's mumbled under his breath, "You scared me, baby."

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Precious 4

Don't ever get to close to a dragon's cave, for it will protect its riches and precious metals with ever means it deems necessary. And don't ever dare to steal from a dragon either- for its rage can burn down entire worlds.

Tags/Warnings: Dragon!Jungkook, Forest Fairy!Reader, stereotyping, fairytale kind of setting, mentions of blood, injuries, strangers to lovers, more TBA as the story continues.

He's a bit saddened when he notices how you heal so much faster, having regained the ability to fly again.

Your almost see-tgrough dragonfly wings are able to hold you in the air again, and he watches from afar how you begin to fly around. You're already out of sight when he returns to his cave, flowers laid out in his nest that be assumes was a gesture of thankfulness towards him.

He gently removes them, places them onto his piles of treasures as to not crush them by accident.

He turns and curls up, tries to rest, when he can hear your small feet touch the ground of his cave. You're back with a sheepish smile, walking closer to him with something held behind your back. His large head turns towards you, watching as you step up to him, climbing his treasures to get closer to him as yiu put something over one of his spikes on his head.

A flower crown.

It's a silent and small gesture, but he knows of forest Fae and their culture well enough to know that these things are only ever given as a promise.

He only thinks it's fair to return such a gesture, as he slowly turns, his dragon scales forming into skin, before he stands there, dark robes covering his figure. He's tall, way taller than you, and you can see the strength in his body even in a simple humanoid form.

And he thinks you might go now, that yiu simply thank him before returning to your village.

But all you do is pick up the flower crown to set it ontop of his dark hair instead. "Do you even know what you're doing, tiny thing?" He asks, and you simply nod, shyness forcing your gaze to stray away from him as you sway on your heels in a nervous manner. "You do not need to go this far to simply thank me." He says. "I did what was right." And that's where you cut him off.

"Its not that!" You say. "But I.. its not only a thank you, Jungkook.." you mumble embarrassed, suddenly feeling weird. Maybe you had overstepped the line? He probably didn't even like you all that much, just as he said- he just did what was right, he was just being nice to you. Dumb fairy, you think, as you take a step backwards as if to run off again.

"Am I right to assume that you're.. courting me, little thing?" He asks, and its the first time you notice amusement in his voice. You turn red at this, shrinking even further in on yourself as tears prick in your eyes.

"I.. sorry, I should probably go now-" you say, but he simply laughs- q young and melodious sound echoing off the walls of his cave, making you look up again at his face.

And the dragon can't help but smile a little, eyes shining a little warmer, as he simply bows a little, accepting your promise and gift.

Accepting you.

[bakugohoex]

“you’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught”

pairing: kento nanami x female reader

cw: fluff, language, established relationship and nsfw (kissing, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, bites and marking, dacryphillia, dumbification, begging, scratching, nipple play, finger sucking, wrist grabbing)

word count: 2200+

information: the great conjunction collab masterlist by @suna-reversed​

a/n: this was v fun to write, hope you guys like this, hopefully i got nanami’s characterisation right

summary: in which after a long mission all you can think about is being with nanami, when you finally get some alone time it seems like a spare room is the best place for your little escapade

↞ back to jujutsu kaisen masterlist

He groaned as he rubbed his eyes, the mission had been a long one but successful. You had gone to get checked up as Nanami went to the bathroom, he leaned his head against the wall looking to his side where the mirror was. Eyes fixated on his ripped blue shirt and cold eyes, he was tired, with the risk of your near injury he was glad you had gotten out without more than a scratch on you.

He walked out as he started the trek to where you were, it was better for the both of you two to head home before it got too dark, and traffic would become a nightmare for the blond. He walked past where the teacher dorms were, he never cared to visit any of their rooms. Seeing no need as he never visited Jujutsu High often and if he did it was if Gojo had somehow dragged him to the place.

Feeling a hand grab his wrist, he turned to see a familiar figure, “y/n?” He questioned before being dragged into a room, he was about to speak when you put a finger on his lips.

“I missed you.” You whispered, the two of you had become separated whilst on the mission and the fact that he was right in front of you, right in your grasp to take. All pretty as he held his tie and suit jacket in his hands, how could you not resist the way he looked.

He raised an eyebrow as you stared at his lips, “miss me enough that you couldn’t wait till we got home?”

“Nope.” You muttered as you grabbed a hold of his lapels hoping to bring him down, you wanted to devour him in a second.

He rolled his eyes before putting his jacket and tie on the chair before grabbing your face in his hands. His lips meshed into your own as you felt nothing but pure lust for him, he saw the bandage around your arm hoping that the next activity you were about to go through wouldn’t be too strenuous on your muscles.

Pushing you backwards as he remained kissing you, he assumed the room to be a spare one. Almost glad nobody occupied the room as it would make being caught an awkward situation. At the least the two of you could have some time for yourself, sex had been put off for the past week after the planning of a case that had occurred an hour away. With it finally being done the sexual tension between the two of you could finally be accomplished.

“Please Kento…I need you…” You whispered as you felt the bed behind you, he licked his lips as he couldn’t help but stare at how pretty you looked pleading for him.

He gave a soft smile as he replied, “I’ll give you everything you want darling.”

You felt his hands move to your shoulders, pushing you back on the bed as you felt his hands move down to your sides, one of his legs kneeled between your legs as the other spread them apart. He watched you squirm as he grabbed your wrists in one of his hands, “hurry up Ken…”

His interruption of his other hand moving to your chest, he undid the buttons of your shirt as it slipped off your body. The way his fingers skimmed past each curve of your breasts, his fingers working nimbly across your hard tit. “You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught,” his comment was serious knowing that others were still awake and that when you whined it was loudly. “That means no whining either.”

Even if it had been a while since the two of you had had sex, your boyfriend never seemed to have a high sex drive. But when sex did occur for the two of you, it was always as passionate as ever and led to you unable to walk for a day.

You shut your mouth watching as his tongue circled your nipples, the way saliva dripped from your nipple to his mouth. His hand remained tight against your wrists pulling them towards the top of your head.

His other hand seemed to be moving down towards your trousers, waiting to unbutton them and take them off your body. But instead you watched him undo his shirt buttons with one hand, it was a skill and it more than emphasised the fact Nanami was good with his fingers.

His shirt fell from his body as he slipped it off, his hand moving to your wrist as he took the other sleeve off. You always loved his toned body, the way his body looked perfect to you, even with the occasional scars that littered his body. It was always going to be perfect for you, and it was all yours.

His hand moved to his hair, bringing his fingers into his hair leaving a blond mess on top of his head. Occasional strands moving to his forehead as he undid your trousers, feeling the way you cunt was already dripping for him. “Your stupid cunt is already wet for me, pathetic.”

The way your underwear dampened more proved just how turned you on with his words, he raised his eyebrow before moving his finger past your clit through your underwear. He could already feel the slick that you held in your cunt and couldn’t wait to fuck it out of you. “Kento…”

You whined once more, “what did I say? Sweetheart? No…” He put one finger past your underwear and into your cunt, “fucking…” as he brought his first finger out he inserted another as he thrusted into you “whining…” at his last word a third finger was added to your cunt.

You gave a loud moan as you back arched to fit the three of his fingers inside your cunt, he didn’t want to finger you, much rather having you cum on his cock. But the way you could only move through your body riled him up, your wrists still unable to move as your legs stayed parted with his own. A perfect sight to ruin, his fingers remained pumping back and forth and your underwear had been dragged down to one of your ankles.

“Beg!” It was a command as he stopped pumping, licking his fingers as he was able to taste your slick.

You stared up at him, watching his hands move away from your wrists, his fingers undoing his trousers as he was ready to have his way with you. “Plea…please I need you…I need you in me…Kento…”

Tears filled your eyes as your cunt felt swollen from the impact of three fingers, the way your nipples were puffed after his mouth had played with them. You were about to get to your knees, go straight for his boxers. But as he took his place back between your legs, you stayed lying on your back, “more.”

His words were short as he grabbed your wrists once more, bringing it right on top of your head. His other hand moved to the side of your face as he kneeled in front, his body staying right on top as you could feel his hardened cock brush against your clit. He moved down as his mouth went on top of your own, you were about to kiss him when he spoke, “I told you to beg.”

“Please, I’…I’ll do anything…for you…” Your voice and breath fanned his mouth as he kissed you once more. His tongue gliding against your own as he carried his body with one hand and his knee, you really did look prettying begging for him.

He let go of your hands as he pulled his boxers down, his cock instantly gliding against your clit as you gave a moan. Your hands moved to his hair and back, already gripping onto him, as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Stupid girl,” he whispered softly as he kissed your neck, inserting his cock into your cunt. The instant he felt your cunt engulph him, he let out a groan onto your neck, “my…stupid girl.”

He paced himself as he thrusted into you, each time going further back, wanting to hit the back of your cervix within a couple of thrusts. “Kento.” You moaned loudly as you grabbed the back of his hair, the way strands fell between your fingers. His mouth moved to your collar as he began leaving marks across your collarbone, his hand had found itself playing with your nipples as you moaned his name multiple times.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t obsessed with hearing you moan his name; it was the only name you’d ever be moaning. He was the only man who’d ever fuck you stupid, go so deep into you that you lose your form of speech. “Ke….” Each thrust led to less and less words coming from your voice until it was gargles of “more” and “please”. Which anybody who was listening probably couldn’t understand, Nanami knew though, he knew what his girl was saying, what she wanted.

“I’ll give you…more.” He groaned as his thrusts became rapid, your nails trailing down his back leaving distinctive marks across his skin. His hair a mess from all your pulling and worst of all the way you had become fragile under his body.

At each thrust another loose word came out that was not understandable, the way you whined and moaned incoherently. Begged and sobbed as his cock hit the back of your cervix at each thrust, until you finally spoke a word clearly, “c…cum.”

He gave out a smirk as he moved his lips up your neck to your jaw and finally to your mouth. Kissing you softly, a sigh for you to cum for him, that he wanted to fuck you through all your cum. The coil in your stomach slipped away as white cum gushed out, becoming trapped with his cock as he used it as lube to continue fucking into you. Your moans quietened down as his groans engulphed the room, “fuck….”

You kissed him, his tongue remaining in your mouth and saliva and your previous slick was still a taste you felt in your mouth. “Fuck…Y/n…” He felt his own cum gush out as your cunt filled with both of your cums, the way you dropped the cum out onto the bed as he got out of you, collapsing beside you.

“Still all dumb for me.” He muttered as his arms moved to your body, he would clean up later, wanting to rest with you for at least 10 minutes.

You looked at him with dry tears down your face, the way his eyes looked at you softly. The way you turned to your side, cum still dripping from your cunt. Both of you not caring as you felt him wrap his arms around you, “n…no.” You barely formed a feeling partially out of it from the high of cumming and being filled with Nanami.

“You did good darling.” He kissed your forehead as he dragged the blanket on top of the two of you as you snuggled closer to his naked body.

He had expected at least 10 minutes before you got up to get changed, you both would probably end up spending the night at the school. But you both knew you weren’t sleeping in cum filled sheets, the way your body was littered with bite and marks and his own with scratches could be seen as near sadistic.

“What the fuck?” Both you and Nanami whipped your head to the door, it was open, and a white-haired man stood there. “You both couldn’t wait till you got home, you guys fucked in my room.”

“What?” Nanami muttered, Gojo turned the light on as he walked in, glad that the two of you were covered. As soon as the light flickered open the two of you saw how the room was most definitely Gojo’s and how with the littered posters and clothes that he wore. You both had most definitely not fucked in a spare room.

“I am so sorry.” You muttered to Gojo as you tried to look up at him over Nanami’s shoulder.

Gojo rolled his eyes as he stared at you both, “is he good at least?”

“Get out.” Nanami commanded as soon as he heard the comment.

“Does that mean he’s shit, Y/n?” Gojo chuckled as he saw Nanami’s face become pissed off in a matter of seconds, “don’t worry I’ll leave you love birds.” As he closed the door his face whipped to the side as you and Nanami both watched the crazed man, “he’s shit.”

Gojo had mouthed the words to you as you chuckled, Nanami had been ready to throw a pillow at the man but Gojo swiftly left you chuckled at how the room seemed brighter with the light on. “We’re leaving,” he had gotten up grabbing his boxers as he slipped them on.

“Why Kento?” You whined as you just wanted to sleep, all Nanami could see was Gojo’s infatuation with actresses and models he could barely recognise. The man whore, Nanami looked down at the bed seeing how pretty you looked sprawled on the bed.

You chuckled as he went over to close the light and collapsed once more beside you. “I hate both of you.”

“No you don’t now come here.” You chuckled once more as he moved closer, feeling your bare body pressed against him, he watched you move on top of his chest, cuddling right into his form. “I love you.”

He kissed the top of your head before replying, “I love you too.”

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[alberivh]

devotion (ROYAL AU) — pt.1 : realization.

Butler! Diluc X GN!Reader . Royal! childe (as supporting character), butler! Kaeya (supporting cast ; in pt2 story line)

contains : heavy angst, comfort/hurt, isolation, arranged marriage, major character death, mentions of blood, injuries, execution, abusive relationship, abandonment, ‘consumption’, false accusation, blades

summaries : arranged marriage has always been one of your family ruthless tradition. You were allowed to love them you couldn’t reach, yet the feeling of being abandoned once and for all by those who you truly treasured was more than numbness could ever describe. Diluc who’s your lover need to accept this tradition, yet he, himself need to get his life down for your future sake.

A/N : thank you for 100 followers!! It has been a wild ride since i’ve just joined this community. Thank you very much and as a rewards, here’s a token of heavy angst for y’all. I have a really bad writing block right now, so this might took more than you think hehe. So once again, thank you very much! ( i actually hate this, tyvm)

“Your majesty…please allow me to hold y—“

“No. I simply do not have time for people pleaser, please let yourself be out from here..” , you cursed your future-husband out of from your bounties. It startled all of the maids and butlers in your room, it even make your somewhat-fiancé looked awful. You were pissed by him, by the structure of his eyelids, the heavy breathe from who-knows-where and many more part of him you don’t even want to recognize.

There’s no reason to deny that you hate this, all of this, Known as the maiden of the family, you were nothing but their only pry. It pissed you, it really does. How come you are holding the throne at the age of 25? Aren’t you supposed to check your garden instead taking all of your well-behave throne and the awful arranged marriage your family has made? No? What an unlucky person you are, the butlers thought.

“Diluc please guide master tartaglia to the upfront door, i have no intention to see him now. If you already had brought him downstairs, get back to my resident immediately.”

“this is the main reason why everyone despis—“

“Please leave Immediately. My master have no further interest to speak with you, master tartaglia.” Diluc shouted your internal response to the group of scums in front of your sight. He heard enough of this small talk your future-husband has been talking about. Diluc wasn’t jealous, he was simply too disturbed with your disgusted face everytime tartaglia walks around your residence. just how much pressured you had been under to make you act so ruthless in front of the man you’ll called husband in no time?

he silently observing him down the hall. Not wanting to have a talk with a scum like him, he avoid any sights of his ‘particular’ interest. After all, in his eyes, tartaglia doesn’t deserve any part of you. He acts too normally, there diluc suspicion of your fiancé grown. There must be something behind his motive. Tartaglia have recognize diluc’s gaze for a while now. Though, he pretend none of those bothering suspicion triggered his rage. And so, he fired him up with a quick straightforward awareness. Or as the citizen say, A threat.

“mr. Butler..stop loving my future partner or tomorrow you’ll have the consequences..got it? And do not touch them..i’ve warned you when you were alive, i like my future partner to be a virgin ins—“

“master tartaglia i have no relationship with the majesty, how come you assume such a thing from a humble butler like me? I was just simply following orders, hope you could understand, master tartaglia.” , answering his rage. Tartaglia found his emotion drains wild. It look like those bothering emotions he hide finally show diluc their true intention to spoiled you. Diluc’s eyes met your fiancé terrifying visions, the murderous aura in it explains his true intention. Diluc could only plea inside, let my majesty be safe.

“don’t you dare say anything to your master, mr butler. My partner has been mine all along, stay away from our relationship or tomorrow would be your last day…”

“Though, i simply wouldn’t mind, ajax.” , he gurantees tartaglia’s eyes.

The night came. the breeze flew through your open windows, leaving chills through your spine. it was an unsurprisingly beautiful night, you quoted. Diluc was preparing your bed, as you humm through the southed area of your room. The melodical sound of your humming have always soothes his grudge from afar. It was always been his favorite sound.

“ your majesty, the bed has been done. You may rest peacefully now..so please excuse m—“

“Diluc…stop making it seems like i’m the only one who loved you..just stay here, i missed you a lot..” , in a sudden your arm was attached to his body, his dirty and ordinary body. You embraced him so tightly, as if diluc were going to some place you wouldn’t want him to cross. You were scared of losing him. You don’t want any of this marriage, you don’t want tartaglia to even acknowledge your presence. You just want diluc to stay by your side, even if you both have considered how selfish it is.

You clunge onto his chest, pressing gentle kiss on his cheeks. Not wanting him to leave nor to leave you behind. So desperate of you to feel this way.

“you’ve been doing great darling,i’m proud of you..”

“please stay like this for a while, i love you. So please, don’t go..don’t go..” , diluc watch your flattering smile turns into a small-sobs, it cracks him, he doesn’t want to let you go either. He was simply following your fiancé awareness, he doesn’t want anyone to harm you, even if it meant for you to see him in agony. Diluc Carries your figure into your bed in return, not wanting to bare any of his emotions. Feelings are fragile and so do he. giving soft and gentle kisses to your forehead as he wiped your tears, whispering a ‘goodnight’ before he left you again. If he was being honest, he wants to be more selfish, he wants to be with you, forever.

“hmm..i’ll be waiting for you, goodnight my beloved..”

“What’s with the inconvenience…?” The loud atmosphere greet you with chills. What time is it? You don’t even know. All you know is the sunrise have yet to grown out from the wave of the clouds. but why must all of your maids gather themself on your room, something important? But why must them gather at the edge of dusk..? Did your mother fucked up again? But actually, what happened?

At the same time, you mumbled a form of question. Where’s diluc? You asked yourself.

“Y-Your majesty! d-diluc have now been courted by the queen, i-i don’t know what happened but please stay put i shall help you! Yes! I-i—“ courted? In sudden, you dropped your glasses. The broken piece of the glasses shard scarred your leg. It was painful, but you didn’t care. The blood shed of your scars leave the carpet of your resident turn into a red motives of blood. What did diluc do to make himself courted by your own mother? All he did was to love me, mother. The maid beside you were in all panics, trying to brag your arm from leaving the room. Although you declined the embrace of it, you were still running in pain, it made the maids panics turn into vomits.

Rushing through the open corridor of your resident in sweats and blood shed, You found diluc. His hands tied with a rope, a slight red bruises covered his face. He was Courted by your mother because of an unknown letter that has been sent to the queen herself, it was dumb for her to court an innocent person like him. Though, at last, you found yourself screaming his name. The pain which hold onto your consciousness leave your body in a second. diluc was aware of this, Everything. His hands wanted to touch you and lead you to rest. but he couldn’t, the execution would be in front of his eyes in no time.

“you did harm my child don’t you? Look at those blood on their legs! How come a butler like you harmed my precious child..?! They are unconscious because of you filthy butler. Know your degree, h—“

“you abuse them, your highness. You abuse them, ever since their father die, you abandoned them and break them to pieces. How come you only care about them dying when their time to hold the throne came? They were dying because of you, those consumption they witness are all because of you. And you dare to tell me what to do when all i did was just to love them?!” He quoted every single words you wish you could say to your mothers face. You wished you have the audacity to tell her the truth, yet your weak body refuse it’s urge to make diluc out of the execution lines. I’m sorry, i’m really sorry.

silence fill the room. You were laying in pain, as you heard diluc’s defense and your mother’s lies. You realized once more, you were nothing to them. Just a pry for the throne. none of the guards have pitied you either, they are too focused on never-letting diluc’s eyes or hands meet your figure in this state of time. Those scarred glasses on your legs have made you lose too-many bloods, it scared diluc. After all, as a lover he is, he has devoted himself to protect you in all cost. let them be safe and take me away. It’s his last hope for you to stay awake for him.

“no execution needed. I have no reason to pay attention to fools like you. so isolation it is. This is all because of you, my child is dying and you’re the one at fault. Noticed how they haven’t even called your name again? They died because your lack of responsibility.” , spitting her mucus in diluc’s knees. You could barely saw diluc chills which you usually saw in his eyes. He’s about to cry..you think.

“Guards, please take my child away and let them rest in their bed. And so for this butler, put him in the isolation room, make sure to let him eat only once in a day, understood? Ah..don’t let my child see him, i don’t want them to see an abuser like him crawling out their life’s on my window.” , orders from your mother are none to first. They couldn’t be disobey and you understand them. You understand how ruthless it is, you understand it. But why must diluc? Why him? You saw the sight of him, blades are all over his neck. For what reason actually? To let him never see you again.

carried by the guards to your room and diluc was gone from your vision. He is not wrong, your highness. So why must those who loved me left my side, mother? Why won’t these bruises you add to my flawless skin never leave me? Is it because i’m a procession of your own sin? It was a cursed to fall in love with those you could barely reach.

PART 2 : COMING SOON

this is shitty, really shitty in fact. Though, thank you very much for reading this. Part 2 will come soon, if i had some energy to write the readers mother personality without getting pissed off. But anyways, see y’all soon at part 2 <3

[mlm-writer]

The Kappa Situation (Ray Palmer x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Ray Palmer (The Atom, LoT ver.) x Gender Neutral Metahuman Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 1915 Summary: You get injured, you get some flashbacks, Ray is a darling angel. Sexy times. Note: Mashed two requests together, then changed some wording to make it gender neutral since gender is sometimes so unnecessary. Uhh reader has the power to manipulate magnetic fields. Oh and a Kappa is a creature from Japanese folklore.  Tags: flashbacks, love confessions, idiots in love, oral sex, and hinted sub!Ray... ok it is kinda there. OH AN NO BETA BECAUSE I AM LAZY 

The ring moved slowly parallel to the metal bar it was around. With brows knitted in concentration, you manipulated the magnetic micro fields around it to move it to the finish without it touching the bar. You just passed your personal record. A smile formed on your lips as you moved it further. That was until the door to your room opened and the sound disturbed your concentration. The edge of the ring touched the bar lightly and a loud buzzer hurt your ears in punishment. 

“Dammit! What do you want?” You turned around to find Ray in the door. He looked at you like a kicked puppy. “Ah Ray… Can this wait? I am in the middle of training.” He frowned. Normally he would have gone already and given you your space. 

“I feel like you’re kind of avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” He tilted his head. It was so cute. You tore your eyes away from him and grabbed the energy shake off the side table. That puppy look was exactly what you were trying to avoid. Dammit there were fairy godmothers and elves and whatnot wandering the timeline. There was no time for your dumb crush. Lives were at stake. 

“No, not at all, don’t worry about it. I just have been concentrating on improving my microfields. You know that if I refine it I could generate electricity right? That skill will be necessary eventually and I don’t want to be the idiot who did not train enough to get us out of regular Legends shenanigans.” You sat down on your bed and took a good swig from the shake, concealing your face with the bottle. 

“Oh… oh yeah ok,” Ray replied and you thought for a moment that he was going to leave you alone. However, he did not move from his spot. You kept on drinking, side-eyeing him. Your eyes raked over the perfect-fit jeans and the dark red sweater he wore on top of it. Oh how he was a champion of hiding his perfect body. When you came to his head, he had his eyes on you as well. You lowered the bottle and cleared your throat. “Can I uh…” Ray started, “God… I just want the truth. I don’t like people not liking me, especially not if I like them very much.” He ran his hands through his hair during his mini-ramble. The dark brown locks stood up in all directions now. 

“I like you too, Ray. I promise, I am not upset with you.” You chose your words carefully as you rose to your feet. Ray caught on your words. He was used to realising that your ‘better’s never meant ‘good’ and your ‘no lies’ did not mean ‘full truth’ either. You wondered when he had learned your loopholes so quickly. 

He walked inside, the door whooshing close behind him and the situation suddenly felt so intimate. “Not upset then… Perhaps disappointed?” You sighed and shook your head. He kept coming closer. “Then… Sad? Are you sad?” You chuckled and shook your head again. “Furious?” Another shake of the head. Another step closer. He stopped walking when there was half an arm’s length between you. He was talking, but you could not take your eyes off his perfect lips. You were so smitten. Dear Lord, have mercy on your soul. 

Inhibition slipped you as you finally looked up at Ray. Your intense stare shut him right up. “Ray Palmer, I have been avoiding you because I’m super into you. Now please leave me alone or kiss me.” No one could shut up Ray Palmer like you. The boy scout with so many words turned into a gaping fish at your words. Since he was not jumping at the opportunity to kiss you, you pointed towards the exit, but he took a gentle hold of your wrist. 

“No, no, I choose kissing… just… can we wait with that? I am pretty sure my breath still smells and I wouldn’t want our first kiss to be… gross… not that… I mean, ha, I am into you too, super into you, super duper…” 

You did not kiss that day. The memory was cut off with a dull ache in your chest. You opened your eyes, squinting at the ceiling. “Where am I?” You mumbled to yourself. There was shuffling and suddenly your boyfriend was in your vision. He was rambling. How typical. “What happened?” You, very intelligently, inquired, cutting through the words with only two of your own. 

Ray blinked at you. “You saved my life, don’t you remember?” As he stared at you with concern, you frowned, trying to remember. 

The kappa ran between the trees and the bushes. Ray was hot on its tail, his smaller size allowing easy navigation through the highly vegetated area. It was a wonder how Japan from the future had dense forests within the city serving as a park. You moved into position near the park’s entrance. You saw the green creature run right past it and you started running parallel to it. The sidewalk was full, even at this late hour. People yelled at you as you pushed them aside. You were just in time to see Ray change back to his normal size and make a jump to catch the kappa. 

He rolled over the sidewalk and right into the street. You sprinted as you spotted a hover car coming right at him. “Ray! Move!” You exclaimed, totally forgetting about your comm. You stopped in the middle of the crossroads and stretched out your arms. The magnetic field repulsed the hover car, slowing it to a stop right in front of Ray. You let out a sigh of relief, before you found yourself off your feet, right before everything went black. 

“Ah yeah, a car. You’re welcome, by the way.” You held your arm out and Ray took it to help you up. He helped you out of the medbay. Apparently you were all good, just bound to be sore with some minor injuries to your rib that Gideon could not fix for you. “Where are the others?” 

Ray was the perfect gentleman as he guided you to your new, shared room. “Still taking care of that kappa. We took it almost to the waverider, but it got away before the hatch was fully down.” You sighed, making a joke about how they were hopeless without you. Once in your room, Ray pulled you close and let you lean against him as he undressed you. You smiled as you smelled the mixture of his deodorant and grime of a long day. You helped him minimally, letting him undress you like a doll. Once you were down to nothing, he pushed you down onto the bed. “Don’t lie down yet. I’ll clean you up a little so you can sleep comfortably.” 

You hummed and let him take care of you. Ray returned shortly after with a bucket of water and a small towel. He was methodical and careful as he wiped down your skin. You closed your eyes and let your head hang back. The second he was done, you carefully lowered yourself down onto the bed, legs still hanging off the edge. Ray walked over to your dresser to get you some underwear. You whistled at him. He looked over his shoulder at you, an unspoken inquiry on his face. “I am naked on our bed and there is no one on the ship. Don’t you want to make use of that?” You winked at him, making him laugh. 

“As much as I would love to - for the record I really, really want to - I don’t think we should have sex with your injuries.” You pouted at him and trailed a hand down to your sex, rubbing yourself slowly, teasingly. “Uhm, uh…” You smirked when Ray was clearly having doubts about his righteous decisions. You saw his eyes follow the path of your fingers. “Just oral? I can do that, you can just lie there.” You failed at suppressing the grin that spread over your face. As he gestured to your body while suggesting you’d just lie there.

You chuckled and beckoned him over with your fingers. “I’ll take anything from you, but please lose your clothing as well.” Ray pulled his black shirt off in one smooth motion. He then unceremoniously pushed his jeans and underwear down together. Ray dropped to his knees like a man about to worship a god. He put your legs over his shoulders, removed your hand and got to work with his tongue. He lapped over you with languid strokes. Your eyes closed and your head fell back onto the bed. A happy sigh left you as his glorious tongue licked up your taste. 

“I love doing this,” Ray announced between licks as if you were not awfully aware of how happy he could be from just servicing you with his mouth. He teased you with only the tip of his tongue, before going back to those slow, long licks. You sighed and put a hand through his soft hair, pulling a little so he would put his lips around your most sensitive parts. Just one tug was all it took for Ray to drop the teasing and just get to work with sucking and licking and moving his head like he would die from a lack of your pleasure. 

You moaned at the sudden spike of pleasure. Your back naturally arched off the bed and you winced at the pain that stabbed through your ribcage. And just like that, the pleasure stopped and Ray was looking you over with saliva still dripping down his chin. “Are you ok? Are you in pain?”

“Yes and yes… You are so adorable,” you sighed as you shifted. “Sorry, could not help myself from moving. Having you suck on me like that is just very good.” You smiled sheepishly at him. Ray nodded and stroked your cheek with his thumb. He told you to relax as he went down again. He put your legs over his shoulders and you were expecting him to go back to what he was doing before, but instead you felt his tongue circle your hole. “Fuck Ray, please,” you whimpered at the idea of his tongue inside you. 

Your boyfriend was nothing if not obedient. He gently pushed his slick tongue inside, fuckign you with it. The pleasure was just as good, just less intense. While it was previously like bullets of pleasure through your body, this was like a continuous stream of pleasure that would slowly send you overflowing. You removed your hand from his head to touch yourself, your fingers gliding easily over yourself with Ray’s saliva still there. You allowed to let all the soft sounds escape you, being free in your expression of pleasure. 

Ray was a champ, who did not stop until he heard you gasp and then a hand landed on your abdomen to steady you as his tongue slid back up to replace your hand. An exclamation of pleasure left your lips, the feeling overruling the slight ache of your injuries protesting against the muscles tensing from your orgasm. You were panting as much as you could once the pleasure subsided. Ray rubbed your thighs for a hot minute, until he got up again. Your eyes were unfocused staring at the ceiling until they eventually closed, your body giving in to the exhaustion. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

A prompt for you (though honestly I'll read anything you write because it is always excellent): Wen Ning never dies, but somehow still ends up becoming Wei Wuxian's most feared subordinate...

ao3

Untamed

“Sect Leader Nie,” Jiang Cheng said, hurrying after the other man, who stopped and turned with a welcoming expression on his face even though Jiang Cheng knew he was in a hurry after everything they’d just planned. After Nie Mingjue had volunteered to go into the Nightless City himself, a reckless charge to try to kill Wen Ruohan, while the rest of them attacked directly - a final strike, if they could only manage it. “I just…”

He trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.

He didn’t even know what he was doing here.

Nie Mingjue didn’t call him out on it, though, only stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate your support,” he said, voice a little gentler than usual. Like he was trying to comfort Jiang Cheng or something.

Like he wasn’t the one volunteering to go die.

(Just like Jiang Cheng’s mother, and father, and - )

Oh. That’s why he came here.

“I’ll be there,” Jiang Cheng said suddenly, and Nie Mingjue blinked. “At – at the Nightless City. After you kill him, after we take the city…I’ll come find you, to make sure you’re all right.”

That was stupid, he thought to himself as soon as he said it. Nie Mingjue had an entire sect, and friends, and all that – he didn’t need Jiang Cheng hounding him with his insecurities, his worries, his fear that Nie Mingjue would die, too, die and leave him behind just like all the others. Why should he be the exception?

But Nie Mingjue smiled. “I look forward to seeing you then.”

Jiang Cheng swallowed and nodded. “It’s a deal, then,” he said, and watched as Nie Mingjue strode away.

He promised himself that he’d do as he said he would.

Even if all he found was Nie Mingjue’s corpse.

-

It ended up not being Nie Mingjue who killed Wen Ruohan, but rather a combination of Wei Wuxian’s new cultivation style and Meng Yao, who’d apparently been working as a double agent or – something.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t really clear on the details.

He rushed over to Wei Wuxian’s side at once, checking him over as best as he could, yelling at him over…he wasn’t even sure what, it wasn’t really important. Recklessness, probably. Wei Wuxian seemed to understand what he meant, though, grinning at him with bloodless lips.

“You worry too much,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep for – a week. Maybe more. Let’s go back to camp, and I’ll do just that.”

Jiang Cheng was about to agree when he remembered his promise.

(Nie Mingjue hadn’t been there at the final fight, although Wen Ruohan hadn’t been at his full power, either. Had he sacrificed himself to wear down their enemy?)

“What is it?” Wei Wuxian asked, noticing.

“Chifeng-zun,” Jiang Cheng said. “I didn’t – see him.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “You think…? Oh, poor Nie Huaisang..!”

Jiang Cheng wondered for a moment why Wei Wuxian’s first thought was of Nie Huaisang, then remembered that Wei Wuxian hadn’t been there for all those months of working as Nie Mingjue’s lieutenants, him and Lan Wangji and even Jin Zixuan. He wouldn’t have that personal connection with the man, beyond the brief meeting they’d had with him before the indoctrination camp - he wouldn’t have experience with his reliable competence and his talented leadership, his compassion or the gruff praise that he gave sparingly but sincerely and which made Jiang Cheng feel for once in his life like he was every bit as good as Wei Wuxian.

“I want to…” He was going to sound dumb. No, he was a sect leader, as Nie Mingjue often (gently) reminded him; he had to decide for himself what he was going to do, and have faith that his decisions were the right ones - and act accordingly. “We’re not leaving yet. We’re going to go further in, see if we can find him. Do you think you can hold up a little longer?”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian said, straightening up. “I’ll be fine for a while yet. Let’s go.”

“You’ll tell me if you –”

“Yes, Jiang Cheng. Stop nagging. Now are we going or not?”

-

Unexpectedly, Nie Mingjue was alive.

Alive, and also extremely pissed off.

“I’ll take him back,” Jiang Cheng said to Lan Xichen, who looked relieved: he was protecting Meng Yao from Nie Mingjue for some reason. “Better to go separately.”

“Thank you, Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Xichen said.

Jiang Cheng saluted and went over to Nie Mingjue, who was leaning on Wei Wuxian – a case of the injured helping the injured, in Jiang Cheng’s opinion, and he glared at his disciples until they ran over to assist them both.

Wei Wuxian was frowning, he noted. “What is it?” he asked, and Wei Wuxian shook his head, refusing to talk and inclining his head meaningfully down towards Nie Mingjue, who looked more tired than anything else. Exhausted, injured, even half-dead…“We should go.”

“No,” Nie Mingjue croaked. “There are probably – prisoners.”

“It can wait until we’re back at camp, surely?” Jiang Cheng asked. “We lost a lot of people in that battle. We could get reinforcements, then come back and do a full sweep when we’re less exhausted.”

“They might be injured, though,” Wei Wuxian put in, though he looked tired, too. “It’d be a pity for any person to die in Wen Ruohan’s custody right after we finally defeated him.”

It was a good point, Jiang Cheng thought, and although he was pretty exhausted himself, he forced himself to nod. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll go sweep the place, look for prisoners. But you two are going straight back to camp, okay? No exceptions, no heroism, nothing! If I get back and I hear that you two took a left turn and fell face-first off a cliff into a pile of magma because you thought there was a baby bird that needed rescuing, I will personally resurrect and stab you both!”

Both Nie Mingjue and Wei Wuxian were grinning at him in a suspiciously indulgent (and almost identical) sort of way, Jiang Cheng noticed, but they also agreed solemnly to make no detours, not even if it was the most heartrending of baby birds, and Jiang Cheng supposed he had to be happy with that.

They staggered off together as he turned to go further in, and as he did, he thought he heard Wei Wuxian say, “Tell me more about what Meng Yao said to you –”

-

“Sect Leader Jiang!” one of Jiang Cheng’s subordinates said, rushing over and saluting. “I found another cell!”

Jiang Cheng ran his hand over his eyes, wanting nothing more but to sleep. “Show me where,” he ordered instead.

He’d already dispatched one of his disciples to act as a runner to Lan Xichen, asking for him to send more disciples from his Lan sect and the Nie sect (which he’d been helping coordinate in Nie Mingjue’s absence) to help get all the prisoners out – there were so many of them, and many of them were, as predicted, in poor health. He would’ve preferred to ask someone else, since the Lan and Nie sects had suffered as many injuries as his Jiang sect, but the small sects were focused on themselves right now and the Jin sect…well, they’d done so little in the war up till now that he’d almost forgotten that they were an option until one of his subordinates had suggested them, and then he’d dismissed the suggestion, too.

If the Jin sect were here, he thought ungraciously, they were probably busy trying to find the treasury.

At least the Lan and Nie sects had managed to confiscate the Yin metal first.

At some point, they’d have to find a way to destroy it…

Distracted by thoughts of politics, Jiang Cheng followed his subordinate down a twisting hallway to yet another set of cells, dark and dank but not quite as close to the place where the Yin metal had been used to refine ghost puppets, and there were men and women chained to the wall here. Unrecognizable, most of them, beaten and starved. They were probably the scions of small cultivation clans…

“Wen Ning?” he blurted out, surprised to recognize the kind-looking face of one of them. To barely recognize: Wen Ning had circles under his eyes, bruises on his face, and his usually round cheeks were thin. “What are you doing here?”

“He’s been here for weeks and weeks,” one of the other prisoners said at once. “He’s not – one of those Wens.”

Wen Ning could still blush, Jiang Cheng noticed, and as much as he would have said he hated all those surnamed Wen – well, that wasn’t quite true, was it? Wen Ning had been there with Wen Qing, when they’d helped them. Jiang Cheng had rescued and released her, giving her that comb as a keepsake…it would be manifestly unjust to make the exception for one and not the other.

His disciples were looking at him.

“What are you waiting for?” Jiang Cheng snapped at them. “He’s a prisoner, he’s hurt. Treat him as you would any of the other prisoners we’ve rescued.”

That would be his story, he thought, if anyone later came knocking at his door to ask what he was thinking, letting a Wen go free.

-

Maybe it was his fault, Jiang Cheng reflected. He shouldn’t have thought ‘go free’.

Go free implied that Wen Ning would go somewhere else, rather than following him and Wei Wuxian around like an imprinted puppy. It only got worse when Wei Wuxian spontaneously declared that he would help him find Wen Qing to make sure she was safe – without asking Jiang Cheng first, which was unhelpful.

“We can’t be seen as being partial to the Wen sect,” he groaned, head in hands. “Not even the distant branches, but much less someone adopted by Sect Leader Wen himself…no offense meant, Wen Ning.”

“None taken,” Wen Ning said.

“But they helped us,” Wei Wuxian argued, clearly choosing to take the offense on Wen Ning’s part. “It would be unjust for us to turn on them now, when we have the power and they don’t, when they took risks on our behalf in the past.”

Jiang Cheng squinted at him. “Is this related to your weird thing about Lianfeng-zun?” he asked. Wei Wuxian had taken a firm stance against the man recently, and had spoken of it incessantly.

“No! Or, I mean – I would’ve done it anyway, okay? Listen, I really don’t like that guy.”

“No,” Jiang Cheng gasped dramatically. “You, Wei Wuxian, don’t like Lianfeng-zun? Wen Ning, did you hear that? Can you believe it?”

Wen Ning was hiding his face behind his sleeve – a Jiang sect outfit, one of Jiang Cheng’s own spares, since that was what they had, but the dark purple suited him rather well. Better than the red ever had.

His shoulders were shaking with laughter.

“Traitor,” Wei Wuxian told him.

“Sorry, Wei-gongzi!” Wen Ning giggled.

(Jiang Cheng did not think that Wen Ning was cute when he laughed, nor did he wish to see it happen again, to be the cause of it again. He was the leader of a sect, with an obligation to have heirs to carry on his parents’ legacy – he could think Wen Qing was pretty, even if she wasn’t exactly an advantageous match, but he was not allowed to think the same about Wen Ning.)

Wei Wuxian sighed and flopped down. “His conduct is questionable,” he grumbled. “Lan Zhan agrees with me…Anyway, why are we talking about Lianfeng-zun again? I thought we were talking about finding Wen Qing, and the rest of Wen Ning’s family?”

Jiang Cheng groaned again. “I can try to raise it at the meeting in Lanling,” he said, even though they’d all agreed that it made the most sense for the Jin sect to be the ones to resettle any prisoners of war, mostly on account of them having the money, the manpower, and the time, being the only sect that didn’t have significant work to do rebuilding after Wen sect aggression. “Provided you behave. Okay?”

-

Wei Wuxian, predictably, did not behave.

“Sect Leader Jiang?” Nie Mingjue unexpectedly said from the doorway to the room Jiang Cheng was staying in, and Jiang Cheng spun to stare at him in horror that someone was seeing him in this state. The other sect leader stepped inside, ignoring the mess of things on the floor from Jiang Cheng’s temper tantrum, and closed the door behind him. “Are you all right?”

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to say something – something confident and self-assured, something that would help brush away Wei Wuxian’s atrocious behavior and his own as nothing to worry about, something befitting the sect leader of the Jiang sect – but the words stuck in his throat and, instead, to his absolute disgust, he burst into tears.

He expected Nie Mingjue to make a hasty exit at that point, appalled by the rampant display of emotionality, and that he’d have to apologize later for disgracing himself in such a fashion. That had been the way it had always gone with his parents, his father who hated sadness and his mother who hated weakness, and so he wasn’t expecting it at all when Nie Mingjue stepped forward and pulled him into his arms. Into a hug.

It was terrible: there was absolutely no way Jiang Cheng would be able to get ahold of himself now that he was feeling warm and protected and like someone gave one single damn about him.

Nie Mingjue didn’t let go of him, not even when he tearfully apologized for making a display – “It’s not wrong to have feelings, Jiang Wanyin, and it’s not harming me to be here while you let them out.” – or even when, in broken unfinished unpolitical sentences, Jiang Cheng started stuttering his way through…he wasn’t even sure what he was saying.

Possibly a rendition of all the bitterness and resentment he’d ever had in his life.

When it was done, after he’d wept all the tears he’d hidden inside of him, Nie Mingjue said only: “Feeling better?”

Jiang Cheng swiped at his eyes with his sleeve. “…yes,” he said, realizing that he did. “I’m sorry –”

“Do not apologize for having emotions like any other human being. Or for being a burden on me, which you are not.”

Jiang Cheng wished it didn’t feel so good when Nie Mingjue – stiff, stern, harsh Nie Mingjue, who rarely said kind words and never said anything just for the sake of saying it – said things like that. It would make it far easier to keep his dignity intact.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, instead. “It wasn’t to hear me talk about Wei Wuxian.”

At least, not the lifelong story of how Jiang Cheng had always been second to him even before he’d shown up – how his birthday was only a few days later, his skill a little bit less, his temperament inferior, his life inferior; how Jiang Cheng could ignore all of that if only Wei Wuxian were his brother the way he was his, the way he’d promised to be, and yet more and more nowadays it felt as if it were slipping out of reach.

“It was,” Nie Mingjue said. “He’s been coming around rather a lot to discuss Lianfeng-zun. It was his vehemence on the issue that reassured me that I wasn’t overreacting to the unnecessary death of my sect cultivators at Lianfeng-zun’s hands –”

The what?

Maybe Jiang Cheng should have listed a bit more when Wei Wuxian started ranting about how untrustworthy he thought Lianfeng-zun was.

“– and you have always had the strongest confidence in his sense of righteousness, even after he switched over to using demonic cultivation. Based on that, I thought there might be some reason behind his actions.”

Wei Wuxian’s actions: kidnapping an entire cohort of Wen sect cultivators from a Jin sect resettlement camp, assaulting several guards, running away, bringing shame on the Jiang sect by association…

“If I knew anything, I would tell you,” Jiang Cheng said bitterly. “But that would require Wei Wuxian telling me. Anything. At all.”

Nie Mingjue nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think he acted maliciously?”

“What? No,” Jiang Cheng said at once. “Of course not.”

“Do you think his thinking was affected by his demonic cultivation?”

“I almost wish it was, but no. He’s always been – like this. Reckless and over-confident, never thinking of consequences.”

“So you still have faith in him?”

“Of course!”

“That’s good enough for me,” Nie Mingjue said, as if Jiang Cheng hadn’t spent half a shichen crying on his shoulder about how all of his problems and how he couldn’t do anything right. “Let’s go ask him.”

“What, now?”

“Are you doing anything else?”

-

Fair was fair, but politics were politics: “If you’d gone about it the right way, perhaps the Jin sect wouldn’t have a claim,” Nie Mingjue said, pacing around the Burial Mounds with a scowl. “But as it stands now, it’s your word against theirs – and yours will be considered impaired on account of your demonic cultivation.”

“What about the testimony of the victims?” Wei Wuxian demanded.

“Wen sect,” Jiang Cheng put in, and shrugged when Wei Wuxian glared at him. “It’s true! Like it or not, their surname is Wen, and for Wen Qing and Wen Ning in particular, they were Sect Leader Wen’s wards.”

“It was not our choice,” Wen Qing said. Her voice was cold, and she’d tried to return the comb to him, earlier, though he’d refused – why he refused he didn’t know, since her decision to approach Wei Wuxian to seek help in rescuing the rest of her family rather than him had cut off any hope of anything between them. Even if she eventually understood his perspective, or even apologized for judging him unfit or unwilling to help her, he didn’t think he could live the rest of his life with a woman who had picked Wei Wuxian first.

“That isn’t what’s important, though,” Wen Ning said unexpectedly, and they all looked at him. He ducked his head, picking at his sleeve. “It isn’t. Sect Leader Jiang’s right: our surname is Wen. It’s reasonable for people to assume that we’re loyal to the Wen sect, and to treat us accordingly.”

“We never fought against anyone! We’ve never –”

“It doesn’t matter what we did, jiejie,” Wen Ning said. “Whether or not we fought for our sect, we would’ve benefited if they won, right? You rise when your clan rises, and fall when it falls. Why should we be an exception?”

“Well said,” Nie Mingjue said, and Wen Ning abruptly turned bright red – Jiang Cheng shot him a sympathetic look; he entirely understood the issue there. “Your testimony will be deemed self-interested, and even asking for it will only undercut Wei Wuxian’s position. Not to mention the Jiang sect’s.”

Jiang Cheng nodded, but Wei Wuxian crossed his arms. “Then just kick me out of the Jiang sect,” he said.

“What?” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, and even Nie Mingjue looked startled. “Absolutely not!”

“Why not? Isn’t the whole point that the Jiang sect is being dragged down by me and my new cultivation? Kick me out, and the problem’s solved.”

“I could cut off your head, and that of everyone else here,” Nie Mingjue said. “That would also solve the problem, but for some reason I’m not suggesting it. Can anyone tell me why?”

“…because it’s a bad idea?” Wen Ning volunteered.

“Because it’s a stupid idea,” Nie Mingjue agreed.

“It is a stupid idea,” Jiang Cheng growled. “Even putting aside that I don’t want to cast you out, do you really think people will stop blaming the Jiang sect for your actions just because you’re formally not aligned with us?”

“There isn’t another option,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’m not giving up the Wen sect, I’m not changing my cultivation style, I’m not giving up the Tiger Seal – and I’m not dragging the Jiang sect down with me, not if I can help it.”

-

“Are they really calling me ‘Ghost General’?” Wen Ning asked on one of his visits to the Lotus Pier to pick up supplies for the Yiling Burial Mounds.

Since Wei Wuxian had been so set on splitting from the Jiang sect, they’d eventually reached a compromise, of sorts. Wei Wuxian’s actions in rescuing the Wen sect remnants was – not endorsed, per se, as it was clearly wrongful, but Nie Mingjue announced that he had examined the Wen in question and found evidence suggestive of malnutrition and abuse, which indicated at minimum some negligence on the part of the Jin sect in not supervising the guards better. Accordingly, the Wen sect would be removed from the Jin sect’s custody and permitted to set up camp in Yiling under Wei Wuxian, but as punishment for his reckless and unsanctioned behavior, Wei Wuxian was to be expelled from the Jiang sect.

Since the expulsion was mandated by external forces, rather than being a result of his own decision, Jiang Cheng was able to give Wei Wuxian a sizeable settlement as a gift for his separation – the cultivation world gossiped about it, but most people seemed to think he was just trying to get his own back at Nie Mingjue for supposedly forcing the decision to expel Wei Wuxian down his throat – and to set up something of a trade agreement to send them more, although exactly what the Jiang sect was getting out of their side of the ‘trade’ was still up in the air.

Despite these outward signs of remaining support, several small sects had made attempts on the Burial Mounds, growing more reckless once they realized that Jiang Cheng really hadn’t left any forces behind to protect it – stupid of them, of course, since the reason he hadn’t left anyone behind was because he didn’t need to.

Wei Wuxian could handle himself perfectly well.

As could Wen Ning, apparently – he was a truly excellent archer, it turned out, and capable of waiting in all sorts of strange places with perfect patience, even if sometimes he had strange ideas about painting his face with mud to better blend in. It’d been one of those incidents that had given rise to the rumor that he was actually dead, having been resurrected by Wei Wuxian…

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said. “Sorry about that. I tried to tell them to stop, but…”

“It made it worse?”

“It made it so much worse,” Jiang Cheng sighed. “Anyway, would you like to drink?”

“…do you mean tea?”

“No.”

“Yes please,” Wen Ning said. “I have been – so stressed. You wouldn’t…actually, you probably would believe it.”

“I grew up with Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said grimly. “I believe anything.”

-

“It would be good to bring a representative of Yiling Wei sect to the conference, even if it can’t be Wei Wuxian himself,” Nie Mingjue remarked, looking down at the plans Jiang Cheng had laid out for the first discussion conference to be held in the Lotus Pier since the war. “You’re on good terms with Wen Qionglin, aren’t you? Ask him –”

“No!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, then realized he was being suspicious and cleared his throat. “Maybe someone else should invite them.”

Nie Mingjue looked at him over the table. “…has something happened?” he asked.

Jiang Cheng stared down at the plans and hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Nothing important,” he said, and his voice cracked on the last sound – embarrassing.

Still not as embarrassing as that time he cried into Nie Mingjue’s arms, no, but still…embarrassing.

“Oh,” Nie Mingjue said. “You slept with him.”

“How can you tell?” Jiang Cheng hissed, mortified beyond all belief. “Is it – written on my face –”

“According to Huaisang, it’s always a safe guess,” Nie Mingjue said, and shrugged when Jiang Cheng gaped at him. “Either they admit that that’s the case, as you just did, or they get all up in arms and explain what it really was while denying it.”

“That’s –” Really useful and Jiang Cheng will have to put it into effect immediately. “– terrible.”

“Works, though. Why the embarrassment? I didn’t think the Jiang sect cared about cut sleeves.”

“We don’t,” Jiang Cheng said, sitting down and putting his head in his hands. “But I’m sect leader –”

“You had sex, it’s not like you got married.”

“I used to have a thing for his sister.”

“Awkward, I suppose, but it never went anywhere, did it? One can hardly hold your past inclinations against you –”

“We were both thinking about you,” Jiang Cheng blurted out, and then promptly wanted to die. He could have just not said that. He could have said anything else but that. He could stab himself right now and maybe Nie Mingjue would be so distracted by the bleeding and screaming that he would just forget what Jiang Cheng had just said…

“You could always just ask,” Nie Mingjue said.

Jiang Cheng looked up through his fingers. “…are you serious?”

Nie Mingjue looked at him with arched eyebrows. “Are you asking me if I’d be flattered by being propositioned by two extremely beautiful and deadly cultivators?”

“I wouldn’t rank those two as equally desirable traits in a lover,” Jiang Cheng said, and it was almost not a lie, “but…yes?”

He thought for a moment.

“If I did invite Wen Ning to the Discussion Conference…”

-

“Well,” Wen Ning said. “This wasn’t how I was expecting to end up.”

“Me, either,” Jiang Cheng said. He was staring up at the ceiling and thinking about not moving again for – possibly ever.

“Same for me,” Nie Mingjue, on his other side, agreed. “But I have no objections to how it worked out. There aren’t two other cultivators I’d rather be with.”

“There’d better not be,” Jiang Cheng said on automatic, then considered bashing his head in – luckily both Wen Ning and Nie Mingjue reached over and put their hands under his head so he couldn’t, which made him feel warm and happy in a way subtly different from the way the sex had. “I mean, who else would it be? Zewu-jun and Lianfeng-zun?”

“Wei-gongzi still thinks Lianfeng-zun is trying to kill you, you know,” Wen Ning said to Nie Mingjue, who looked long-suffering. “He’s got this idea –”

“He can’t be trying to kill me,” Nie Mingjue argued. “He’s just offered to help Xichen play calming music for me –”

“Wei-gongzi said that maybe he’s trying to kill you through the music –”

“I’m going to sleep,” Jiang Cheng announced. “When I wake up, we can discuss the political implications of letting there be rumors about us sleeping together, which will make it both convenient for us to do this again and also maybe using the potential threat of a Yiling Wei-Yunmeng Jiang-Qinghe Nie alliance to force the Jin sect to take action so we can figure out once and for all if Lianfeng-zun is actually planning to do something. But for the moment, I am going to sleep.”

“…seems fair,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “Communication and straightforwardness is important in relationships like these.”

“Uh,” Wen Ning said, glancing at Jiang Cheng. “About that…if, theoretically, I were to know something about someone…”

[turtle-go-brrrr]

4 times Leonardo was a dork and the time he wasn’t

Heya! I adore the "strong stoic character does something embarrassing or dumb" trope, and Leo has been left behing from that one. Also, my fervent Leo Simp Friend said these were all good ideas and I trust his judgment completely, so it's also for him. Enjoy, you Dork-ass Looser (affectionate) @weird-flex-but-ok

I have one of these "4 times ______ and 1 time ______" stories for each of them, I just got really inspired by him all of a sudden. But they're coming!

There might be a few typos here and there, but I really don't wanna wait any longer to post it :3

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: cursing, injuries, blood, intrusion

Summary: You were always sort of intimidated by the leader in blue, but a series of events shows you he might not be as serious as he wants you to think.

__________________________________________

First time

It took you a while to get along with all of them.

Not because you didn't trust them, or because they made it difficult, and certainly not because they're mutants. You're just not that good with new people, and you tend to shy away. Especially when you have New York's heroes in front of you.

So yeah. It took a while. But soon enough, you warmed up to your new friends, and you had a great time. Mikey was the first who made you feel welcomed, always asking questions about you and insisting you came to the lair in the first place. Donnie followed soon, after you started asking about what he was working on. It took a bit more work to get closer to Raph, but it turns out sarcasm was the way to go.

If only their leader was as approachable.

He never made you feel unsafe or unwelcomed, don’t get me wrong, he just kept a professional distance with you, which started to become quite painful as time went on. You tried not to take it personally, thinking he maybe was as shy as you were.

You had time anyway.

It was early in the evening when you made your way to the lair. For the first time since you met the turtles, you went there alone. You were a little nervous, thinking you might get lost in the maze of tunnels under the city, but figured you could just call someone if anything happened. Lucky for you, you found your way to your friend’s place, but not without hustle.

As you entered, you realized it was uncharacteristically quiet. The only sounds you could here were the faint music and the not so faint curses from Donatello’s lab. The smart decision seemed to be leave him alone, which is exactly what you did.

You haven’t been here long enough to know where to find the others, and as you didn’t exactly felt like staying alone in the living space, you tried finding your way to the dojo, as it was one of the other places you knew well.

Of course, now you got lost. Venturing into the sewers was fine, but walking into your friend's home wasn't, apparently.

You found something else, however. This particular tunnel led to a room you could identify as someone's room. You could see the large bed in the middle of the room, a small table with a bottle of water, a book, and a makeshift alarm. A set of twin swords were hanging on the right wall, just above a small bookshelf.

On your left was another table with a (healthy, you noted) bonsai tree, and next to that was Leonardo, facing a mirror. He had his right arm lifted up to his head, and was looking right to you through the mirror.

He looked absolutely horrified.

What the fuck.

He slowly rubbed his face in his hands, let out a long sigh, and turned to you, more tense than you've ever seen him. He cleared his throat as you pince your lips in a thin line to hold back a smile.

"Hello, Y/N. I... didnt think you'd come in so early."

Despite the badly lit room, you can see him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, uh, I didnt mean to... interrupt you," you say. Your voice is slightly shaking as it takes all of your willpower not to burst out laughing. And he definitely notices.

"You didn't! I uh, wasn't doing anything anyway. So, tell me- what brings you to the lair?" He asks, avoiding your eyes.

"Oh, Mikey invited me, he said I wasnt allowed to skip on movie night. You know how strong willed he is," you smirks, unable to handle it much longer.

Stiff as a board, you see the corner of his mouth twitching and hear him whisper, "... I wasn't flexing."

Silence.

You snort laugh hard enough to choke on it as you quickly turn around to hold yourself against the wall, the insanity of the situation crashing on you. Leo sat at the foot of his bed, head in his hands, and you could see him shake in repressed laughter once you wiped your tears away.

You sit next to him after finally calming down from the hysteria. He sighs, straightens his back and gives you a side glance.

"I'm not judging."

"You're still laughing, though."

"Yeah, but like, I guess I just wasn't expecting that. Still not judging."

He nods, still smiling. His voice is at least 3 octaves higher when he asks, "Please, don't tell the others."

"And what, give them the privilege of knowing about your little... ritual? Nah, don't worry about it."

_______________________

Second time

The second time your assumptions about the leader were subverted happended only two weeks after the... incident.

You had invited the whole crew to your place for the very first time, and they were all excited to come. You made a copious dinner: a few veggie cakes, chicken wings and a bowl of roasted potatoes. They were supposed to bring the drinks and movies, and April and Casey were in charge of the desert.

A perfect night, it seemed.

And it would have been if they could decide what to watch first without jumping at each other's throats.

"You guys need to grow up."

"Leave me out of thi-"

"Donnie's suggesting Velocipastor of all things and you think we need to grow up? Come on, Y/N, I thought you were better than that."

"Okay, first of all, how dare you. And second, this movie's a masterpie-"

"Yeah, because everyone knows that his supremior intellect means he's the only one who gets to choose a dumb movie. Why won't you guys watch Sharknado?"

"Supremior isn't a word. And it's because unlike you, peasants, I have taste." A devilish smile creeps up Donnie's face. The bastard is doing it on purpose.

"Peasants?!"

"You ugly-ass son of a-"

"Hey! Leave Dad out of this!"

"We could watch Shrek instead?"

You decided to go get some glasses in the kitchen, leaving the children to their stupid fight. Searching through your cupboard, you hear a crashing sound, quickly followed by utter and complete silence.

Oh no.

In insight, leaving them alone was maybe not the best idea. You were reconsidering bringing glasses into the mess as you made your way to the origin of the sound. And what a mess it was.

Your friends were all expressing shock in some way, Casey (surprisingly) being the most dramatic of them all with his hands right in front of his face and his jaw hanging open. They were all looking back and forth between you and another direction near the table.

The really cool bowl that held the delicious potatoes you made was broken on the floor. There was glass and potatoes everywhere, but the biggest shards were in a neat pile, right behind Leonardo, who looked like a deer in headlights.

"... nothing happended."

"I'm... starting to think it's a habit of yours," you say as you watch him not so discretely try to hide the broken pieces behind his foot.

"Look, if you keep putting your foot in there you're gonna hurt yourself. Just, step away a bit, will you?"

"I'm sorry I broke it. Let me help you clean up, I don't want you to cut yourself."

"It's okay! Don't touch it, I'll get a bag," you say as he starts to gather the biggest shards.

Won't even listen for one second, will he?

Raph was already picking up the untouched potatoes to put them in the plates on the table, and April went to the kitchen with you to retrieve the bag and cleaning supplies.

"Ew, Mikey don't eat that."

"Thirty seconds rule, baby."

"It's five seconds, you moron. And it's way over thirty anyway. Spit it out."

The rest of the night went on without further issues, but Leo still looked apologetic during the movie. Which is probably why he was standing before you as his brothers were leaving.

"Thank you for the evening. And I'm... sorry again for the bowl."

"Hey it's okay, man. Don't worry about it. As long as no one gets hurt it's not that big of a deal."

"I'll get you a new one." He doesn't wait for your answer and ruffles your hair before taking off.

"Text me when you guys get home!" You scream into the night, hoping one of them heard you.

______________________

Third time

It's surprisingly easy to mess with Fearless.

You were in the living room, getting your ass beat on Mario Kart by Mikey, when you decided to take a break for your stomach (and ego)’s sake. You made your way to the kitchen, where Leo and Raph were in a heated discussion. Raph looked

“I’m telling you, 4 inches is too small. What do you get from 4 inches ? Nothing. But 10 inches ? It really makes you feel something.”

…

What?

You looked down on the table and saw multiple ingredients lined up on the table, with a long piece of bread on the side.

Oh, sandwiches. Got it.

Leo’s back was facing you, but Raph gave you a knowing glance, one that said ‘do it’. So, you did. Not without a smirk, first.

“Oh, wow, Leo ! I didn’t think you’d be so open about that kind of conversations.” You open the fridge, hoping you can hide your smile behind the door.

“What ? What do you m-” His face falls. Raph starts chuckling next to you and it looks like Leo’s brain is rebooting. 

“I mean, I’m not judging. You do you, buddy, I’m happy for you. Just surprised you choose lunch time to talk about it.” And in other circumstances, you’d mean every word. But right now, messing with your friend is too good to pass on.

“No, hold on- I didnt mean- It’s not what you think ! I’m talking about sandwiches !” He tries to show you the ingredients currently on the table, but Raph decides it’s time to join the fun.

“Lying isn’t vey Bushido of you, Honor Boy,” he winks at you and you can’t repress a giggle.

He puts his face in his hands, knowing very well that the both of you ganged up on him but unable to save face. He just smiles, goes back on his chair and hides his head in his arms, hoping you won’t see how embarassed you made him.

“Hey, you like what you like. Have fun with your sandwiches.” You give him an innocent smile, pat him twice on the shoulder, and join Mikey back on the couch with a plate of grapes.

You could hear Raph’s light chuckle from the kitchen.

______________________

Fourth time

Mornings are hard.

And they’re even worse when you spent the whole night sewing an arm back together after a sword gave it a nasty cut. And getting glass shards off of your friend’s shell. And putting a bone back in it’s rightful place after a particularly bad fall.

Yeah. Long night. And a tense one, too.

Because with the physical pain came the chock and residual fears, the anger and blaming. Everyone was stil on guard, and all that tension was exhausting. You barely slept, too worried that one of your friend’s state would degrade if you didn’t keep an eye on them at all times. Which didn’t really help you get the rest you needed.

If you were hoping the morning would be kinder on all of you, you quickly realized that it was a mistake. While, luckily for the turles, the mutagen was already healing their physical wounds, the emotional exhaustion of the previous night was still heavy. Of all of your conscious friends, not one dared break the eerie silence.

It was weird, seeing them like this. But you couldn’t force yourself to say anything, strangely scared of what could happen. You resumed to making breakfast for everyone and bringing clean towels to the still sleeping feverish turtle in the medbay. Splinter and Mikey were at the kitchen table, quietly accepting your offering, when Leo came into the room from the medbay.

He was still half asleep, and in his drowsiness didn’t see the wall he accidentally ran into.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Everyone turned to Leo, who it took a solid minute of staring blindly at the wall to realize what just happened.

Donnie was the first to laugh. It didn’t take long for april and Mikey to join, soon followed by Splinter affectionately patting his son’s arm. Leo smiled and shook his head, as their lighthearted laugh was contagious.

The leader in blue was more of a goofball than what you first expected, and you were grateful for it in the fading tensions of the morning.

______________________

One time he wasn't

When someone intrudes your home, especially at 4 am when you were sleeping in the next room, a lot of things go through your head.

Did they take anything?

Yes. Your bag with your wallet, some cash, your credit card, your ID, and a few fidelity cards from various stores. Your laptop. A set of keys. That one blanket Raph made you (probably to carry everything without making too much noise).

Why you?

Why not? Your apartment isn't isolated, but it's not exactly on a main street either. It was probably practical for them.

Were they armed?

Who knows. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably. Statistically, most likely.

What could have happened if you had tried to confront them?

A lot of things. Maybe, if you let them know you were awake and knew what was going on, without necessarily confronting them, it would have been enough to make them run away. Or maybe there were multiple armed people, and they wouldn't hesitate to use force if necessary.

Who knows.

Can the police find this person?

Statistically? No. At least, that's what Casey told you when you asked him. Unless they got really lucky, they won't find anything.

Or at least the stuff they stole?

Again, unlikely. Unless they can trace your laptop back to the guy, or someone can give a physical description and a direction, there's not a lot they can do.

What can you do now?

Call your bank. And your insurance. And your landlord. Let them know what happened and follow their directive, they'll guide you through their procedure and help you soften the blow.

Casey was the first person you called when you woke up this night, and he was at your place within minutes with two other colleagues (the closest he could find). He spent the rest of the night reassuring you, helping you with the phone calls, asking around for witnesses, but nothing.

It's weird, feeling unsafe for the first time in a place you had called Home for years. It's disturbing. You can feel the nausea your anxiety is giving you, and a headache starts to grow at the back of your skull.

You don't really like this feeling.

So when your turtle friends dropped by the next evening without telling you and you welcomed them with a swing of your favorite pan, let's just say reactions were split.

"I can hack into your computer to find its location if you want. Wouldn't be the first time."

"What?"

"What? I mean, I didn't do it for your location last time. I know all about your search history, though."

"We're gonna have a talk about boundaries and privacy once we're done dealing with that," you sigh. You crash down on the couch next to your friend and mindlessly watch him work.

Leo comes up to you and gently nudges your shoulder. "Hey, do you have a toolbox somewhere? We brought locks to put on your door and windows. You know, just in case."

You nod, quiet, and lead him to your room where you keep most of the most useful stuff you own, including but not limited to a toolbox and a first aid kit.

Your movements were almost mechanical as you retrieved the box and handed it to him, and you decided to help him put up the locks to keep your mind occupied.

He was concerned. You looked like you were still in choc, which he could completely understand. Getting robbed is awful in itself, but getting robbed while you're sleeping in the next room? Horrific, in his mind.

He was also furious. He couldn't be there for you. This person had the nerves to go after his friend, and what if you got hurt? He wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

He noticed he was staring when your eyes met his.

"Hey. We're gonna do whatever we can to find them. We're also gonna focus our patrols in your neighborhood for at least a few weeks, until you feel better," he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's gonna be okay Y/N. Trust me."

You look up to him, and when you look into his eyes, you know he means it. You let your head fall against his plastron as he holds you against him, a silent promise for safety.

"Hey shorty," Raph pulls his head into the crack of the door to address you. "Wanna learn how to fight? I can turn you into a death machine."

You heard the faint "Raph, what the fuck" coming from Mikey who was still in the living room.

You gave a small laugh as you got up, Leo following you closely to the living room.

"Hey! Fighting isn't for everyone. But I could make you a really cool taser, if you want."

"What's with you and tasers?"

"They're efficient."

The bell ringed and April came in holding 4 boxes of pizza, that Mikey assisted her with as soon as she set a foot inside.

You looked around at your friends as April brandished the pizzas like a trophy while Raph and Donnie went back and forth trying to decide who, between man power and electricity, would win in a fight.

And you realized that yes, Leo was right.

It's gonna be okay.

[dr3amofagame]

I just had an idea plaguing me involving sensory deprivation, what if just Dream goes hard on jumping on lava too much, Warden just blockades that lava with obsidian, it goes on for months, and when they discovered that its far too long, Dream has long broken anything he can break despite the mining fatigue, there's no light, just a perfect square box of obsidian and one block of water, they find the one they trapped in soltitude either in the corner farthest from the water, or in the water, Dream being too deprived of anything other than the heat of the blocks or too used in the wetness of the pool that is often in near boiling temps.

(If its alright can I go for anon XP?)

XP

RIGHT,, the cell is such a terrible place i cant imagine that staying somewhere like that would be good for ANYONE for extended periods of time ,, on top of the already abysmal human interaction that place. is such a hellhole. (and sure thing XP!) 

i kinda took this in a completely different (and fluffier) direction, but yeah !! post-prison c!dream is gonna have a lot to work through LMAO 

tw: sensory overload, mentioned injuries (aftermath of torture), panic attacks, sensory deprivation and self-destruction in ask

“Shit!”

Techno watches quietly as Dream stumbles into the couch (again) and bursts into a flurry of curses (again). Ever since leaving the prison, Dream’s been improving substantially, had grown strong enough to start moving outside of his room a week or so back, and his injuries seem to be manageable enough today for the other man to actually walk around instead of staying in bed the entire day. By all means, it should be a decent day; Dream groans, again, flopping onto the couch and immediately burying his hands in his hair, which seems to be as good of a sign as any that it isn’t one.

“Hey, nerd,” Techno walks over, not missing the way Dream flinches at the sound of his voice, burying his head further into the cushions of the couch he’s lying on. “What’s up?”

“The sky,” Dream mutters, sounding murderous, and Techno reevaluates again. If his rival is feeling good enough to snark, then he’s probably not doing too bad.

“That’s the oldest reply in the book to that question, you know,” he drawls, deadpan, as he goes to get some breakfast for himself and a glass of water, at least, for his disgruntled guest, “I’m almost disappointed.”

“Sorry if I’m a bit rusty. It’s hardly like there was any way to practice socializing in the prison,” Dream huffs, annoyance coloring his words. “I’d hardly consider Quackity a good conversation partner.”

“Fair enough.” He reaches for the pitcher, filling the glass halfway with water and grabbing a straw from counter to place in the cup. Dream groans again, ignoring him as he puts the glass down on the table at the end of the couch. He makes no move towards it, and Techno watches him for a few seconds, trying to decide whether or not the concern is worth it. Babyrage, Chat states sagely, and Techno shakes his head. Probably not.

“You should probably drink some water,” Techno says before leaving to go train, because he’s a decent person and wants to help even if he has no idea how to handle the pile of person lying unresponsive on his couch at the minute, grumbling to himself and completely ignorant of everything outside of his own little bubble, “I’m going to go out and train for a bit.”

Unfortunately, when he comes back, the water is still full and Dream’s still lying on the couch, though he’s moved slightly from the morning. Where he’d been relatively splayed out earlier, legs straight and arms in front of him much like a stretching cat, he’s all hunched up into a ball now, arms crossed over the back of his head and knees tucked under his chest. Techno’s half convinced that the other is sleeping, but the sound of the door closing has him curling even more into himself with a full-body flinch that has him hesitating in the middle of hanging his cloak up. Chat yells at him, not making his life any easier

babyrage?

Dream crying?

is he okay?

E E E E

“Dream?” Dream jerks back, again at his words, arms pressing tighter over his head, and Techno frowns at the clear negative reaction. Yeah, Dream has times where he’d be panicking too hard to realize that the person calling for him is an ally and not an enemy, but this doesn’t look exactly like a panic attack, or anything he’s seen from the other man before. He looks more - frustrated, almost, but not exactly, something more desperate clinging to the ways he moves and the curl of his spine as he huddles into himself on the couch. Chat, as it usually does when he’s faced with any problem that can’t be immediately solved with a sword, goes to its only other option.

call phil

Phil !!

dadza

philza Pog

“Quiet, Chat,” he mutters to himself, frowning when Dream seizes, again, at the sound. “Fine. We’ll call Phil.”

---

Phil enters the house with a relatively bemused expression, one of his crows perched, self-satisfied, on the top of his hat, and Techno winces around Chat’s usual overenthusiastic greeting as Phil and his crows ease themselves into the hallway. His eyes flick to Dream, who has yet to move from his ball on the couch, and Phil’s gaze follows his own.

“He alright, mate?” Phil frowns, and Techno’s hand raises to the back of his neck sheepishly.

“He seems fine, physically, but he’s been on the couch all day,” he shrugs. “It’s pretty normal for the nerd, but he seems a little- more out of it, than normal, and Chat recommended calling you, and-” he falters, flailing his arms in a helpless attempt to explain. “Yeah.”

Phil, being Phil (and by that, he means being the best person on this entire hell of a server), takes his explanation with little questioning and moves towards the unmoving lump on the couch, leaving Techno to trail awkwardly behind, surrounded on all sides by a flurry of black feathers. Dream hardly moves on the couch, making some sort of strangled noise that could be a “Hi Phil” and could just be a low groan. Phil watches him with a quizzical look for a few seconds before looking up at Techno.

“Techno, can you close the blinds for a second? I want to try something.”

“Uh,” Techno shrugs, going to the windows. Anything for Phil, Chat chants, and well, he’s not exactly going to disagree. “Sure.”

A few minutes later, the windows are all closed, the smallest slivers of light shining through the closed curtains and into the otherwise dark room. On the couch, Dream visibly loosens, just a little, and Phil smiles.

“That’s what I thought.” Phil turns back to Dream, pitching his voice low. “That better, mate?”

Dream makes another incomprehensible sound, but this one sounds much more agreeable and less like the other man is on the verge of murdering someone, and Techno’s kind of floundering, but who’s to judge? Phil! Chat chants again, philza Pog and here, at least, their sentiments match his own. Phil is just magic, sometimes. It happens.

Phil laughs, low and soft, looking over at him from the corner of his eye.

“I think it was just too loud for him, mate,” he says, guiding them out of the room into the hallway, and Techno’s confusion must show on his face because Phil’s hands move in front of him, gesturing vaguely as he explains. “I doubt the cell had a lot of- sights, or sounds, and he was stuck in there for a while. Everything out here is so different- his brain must’ve just shorted out. Overloaded.”

Overload- sensory overload- oh. That makes…a lot more sense.

Chat immediately starts screaming, and Techno grumbles, feeling a headache of his own creeping up from the back of his skull. “Quiet, Chat, you guys weren’t all that helpful either,” Phil laughs again, used to his tirades against Chat, and fondness swells in his chest even as he focuses on the crowds spamming E and not pog in his head again. “And to be fair, sensory overload looks way different from the outside compared to when you’re the one going through it.”

Even through the usual annoyance at Chat, Techno feels for Dream - overload is annoyingly common phenomenon for him, between the mess that makes up Chat and his usual mess of a brain, and he sympathizes with the days where his skull feels too small for his brain and everything is edging on the side of too loud and too bright. He feels a little dumb for not realizing it earlier, and Chat’s repeated calls of L are hardly making him feel better, but oh well. As long as there isn’t anything seriously wrong with the nerd.

He’ll have to look into some ear muffs or something in the meantime.