#the mere fact that he now has a place a home he belongs to

[chickenstilldancing]

How his eyes are saying "I have a place here, I think I'll be fine"

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄! | sagau lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: theme of obsessiveness, yandere (big surprise!!) lyney + wrio's part mentions past abuse, all the stuff that comes as a side to this au !! ngl neuvillette's part is pretty tame he's literally. just a guy (otter)

⤷ [ you, the heavenly being who created celestia itself, has descended upon teyvat in an earthly form. a god, or at least, theirs. ]

— sagau!lyney has always lived to be beheld by the eye.

Displays of extravagance, bouquets of flowers and pairs of white doves fluttering from his finger tips. Yes, that was where he belonged, standing on his place at the center of the stage, bright lights fixed on his form as he swept in his arm in a wide bow towards his beloved audience. Listening to their adoring cheers and drinking it all in - their support, the fame, their fanatic attention.

Attention was always something he had yearned for. Cold days exist in his memory, where he wandered the street aimlessly, pale skin littered with growing purple bruises, his only refuge the light tug of Lynette's soot-stained hands clinging onto what rags he wore. In those times, he remembers, a faint voice from above, angelic and holy, soft and compassionate.

A voice that was, in fact, yours. You had stared with wide eyes at your device as the cutscene began, instantly overcome with emotion. "Lyney, Lynette... was this how you had been living? Goddamn, I know every character in this game has a tragic backstory, but look at them!! They're... they're precious!! Wahhh, I want to take you in... Lyney, you better come home..." They were merely throwaway comments that you had blurted out in the shelter of your room, absolutely fixated on their pretty character designs and the dwindling number of primogems your inventory held. Not only had you lost the 50/50 to Qiqi herself, you were now nearing hard pity, and the charming magician was still nowhere in sight. You shut your eyes "Ah... Lyney, how come you-"

Light flickered before your closed eyelids, and you felt the wind tug at your body. Your stomach lurched, oh shit, were you falling..?

"-won't..."

Someone caught you with ease, swift and capable arms holding you, one supporting your back and the other hefting both your legs. Twinkling purple eyes met yours. "Ah, are you alright?" You quickly shook your head, too shaken to speak words at the moment. Surveying your surroundings only brought another wave of confusion - strange buildings, glittering blue lakes and trees, an unfamiliar landscape... Your gaze shifted, and you caught the sight of uncanny ash blond hair, and the hat that sat atop it. Lyney?

He hummed in acknowledgement. "So, you've just fallen from the sky." There was no way in mistaking his voice. "Is there an explanation behind that, or...?"

"I...I- I don't know why I'm here...!" You stuttered, and he visibly flinched at your voice, eyes widening. Shit, had you done something wrong? You trembled in his arms, attempting to stand by yourself, but he wouldn't let you move from his grasp.

"I see." His voice was quiet, now, and came in a single breath. His pupils shook as he closed his eyes in a smile. "Then, shall I bring you somewhere where you'll be safe?"

His heart was racing, pounding against his chest, and he could hardly breath, instead taking in short, desperate little gasps that did little to keep him standing. You.

It was a voice he swore he'd never let escape his recollection, and now there was a face, and touch to pair it with. He smile widened, and his eyes shined with pure ecstasy. It was you, in the flesh, his archon, his god, the highest being. Your body was holy, and he longed to praise it, his dark heart being cleansed just by bathing in your presence. Yet you seemed so fragile in his arms, how cute... it wouldn't be fair to keep you to himself, but being selfish is what allowed him to get this far. Like a songbird in a cage, he'd trap you, admire you, worship you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you could feel his smile's sweet grow more sickening every beat of silence that passed. "No, What? I-"

His hand struck the back of your neck. Your voice died as your eyes fluttered shut. And in that moment Lyney pressed a kiss to both of your closed lids, a tender touch that one might describe as "loving", but what truly lie beneath it was far more twisted. His heart beat only for you, and red flushed across his cheeks.

"There's no need to worry, my eminence. I'll put on a show, just for your delight." ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!neuvillette has always yearned for warmth.

A warmth is not present in the courts of Fontaine. There, it is cold, sharp, the biting frigidness numbing the hearts of people - those who stand before him in trial, and those who watch with glee in the crowd, awaiting his final verdict with bated breaths.

Neuvillette was most renowned for his judgement. But it was his own that was a critical flaw. For what truly was judgement? Had he been justified in casting a murderer, in some eyes, but a hero in others, into the Fortress of Meropide? A mere child, who just sought for warmth, just as he had? He fears his heart has also grown cold and indifferent to the world, and he despises himself for it.

Was it not your warm hand that stroked him lovingly so back then, a quiet, soothing touch that swept away the tears and the salt that clung to his cheeks? Was it not your voice who called out to him on those ever so lonely nights, humming an otherworldly tune as your ghostly visage wiped the sorrow that flowed his downcast eyes? Yes, truly. It was your warmth that caused his eyes to glow anew, your warmth that allowed his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears to flush with contentment.

"Oh, wise ludex! This man is a murder! He stole not only my mother's assets, but my mother's life!" The crowd gasped at the dramatic declaration, their gazes shifting back and forth, from the perpetrator to the "witness." "I will dearly miss her... this man, no, this monster, took my mother away by hitting her over the head with none other than a bludgeon!"

Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Mr... Lucas."

"Y-Yes, ludex?"

"It was never disclosed to the public of what weapon the killer used."

The crowd erupted into a series of sharp inhales, surprised noises muffled by a hand over the mouth, round eyes as large as dinner plates, and frantic head turning. Journalists scribbled frantically in their notebooks, sweat pouring from their faces as they stumbled upon their newest cash cow.

"The verdict. Mr. Lucas is found to be guilty."

And they cheered. For what? Neuvillette narrowed his eyes just a fraction, his displeasure rising. They knew nothing. They were just mindless puppets, willing themselves to follow the sway of the crowd, praising and applauding something that naught needed its praise.

A sensation came over him, like the soft caress and flutter of an angel's wings or a soft, sweet sigh escaping from pouting, half-opened lips. The man snapped his head up, hearing the glass behind him shatter and plummet downwards like crystal raindrops, but what verily sent his heart apounding was the sight of a figure, dressed in heavenly silks, bathed in golden light, and descending into the courtroom. He drank it all in with a bated breath, hearing that for once, the crowd was silence.

You landed in his arms. Beautiful. He almost didn't dare move with you in his arms, in fear of his legs giving way underneath him. Your head lulled into his chest, eyes shut, and your pure, unbridled warmth finally met him, finally doused him in its prescence.

"Your... your eminence..." His voice was a mere echo, quiet, containing little sound at all. "I..."

"To you who has granted me such the blessing of warmth, I shall repay with all of my heart." ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!wriothesley has always wanted... someone to hold him.

It's a selfish thing to long for, and a silent one. Who would pay any heed to a duke's ramblings? Love's a thought that he's never quite fully digested, almost as if he can't truly believe it exists. Of course, he's seen Fontaine's couples, strolling up and down the street, hand-in-hand, yet questions himself in what makes them able to love each other. Perhaps it wasn't his problem with them, but more so a problem with himself.

Ah, that was it.

His heart already belonged to someone, someone he had heard once and never witnessed again. Like the softest breath of the wind, or a joyful child's laughter, it brushed through his soul and soothed it, held it in its arms, and fussed over his messy hair and bruised skin. At times, Wriothesley wondered if it was all a dream, for only something that angelic, mesmerizing could not stem from reality. However, as young as he was in those years, he cannot deny the fact that in his dark days - it was your mysterious voice that carried him into the life, your presence that gave him the wings to continue living.

Yes, since that day, his every breath, every flutter of his eyes and every pump of blood that rushed anew into his veins from his heart was solely for the purpose of meeting you once more.

Another typical day at the Fortress of Meropide - paperwork strewn all over his once-organized desk, a cooled cup of tea sitting next to where his hand lie, the other furiously writing away on the said paper. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling into his palm as he briefly shut his eyes... only to shoot them back upon in a start as he heard the sound of something crashing against the walls, and the sound of paper, flying everywhere akin to a bird.

There was someone, lying, or rather, sprawled across his desk. Dizzy-eyed and muttering something intelligible, a growing red spot on their forehead gradually becoming increasingly more visible. "How did you get in here?" He's immediately put up his defenses, readying his gloves as he steps over - with quiet remorse - the papers that now blanket the ground.

"...Wh...Where am I?"

That. That voice.

Has he stopped breathing? He can feel all the blood rush to his head, and he can hardly think a single coherent thought, only focusing on the rush in his ears, the shaking of his hands, and the sight of you before him, dressed simply in sleepware and glancing around frantically. Gorgeous. Ethereal. The mere sight of you before him had spurred his heart into an erratic, fanatic pace, beating within his body like he'd die if it slowed down.

"Is... Is something wrong?" He was taken aback at the hand waving over his eyes, before settling back into position, realizing that you had been trying to speak with him for the past half-minute in his zoned-out state. Could you see it? The sin that was clearly displayed in his every breath, in his every inch of being?

"No, nothing's wrong." You seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and while your eyes were still filled with confusion, you tilted your head at his words. How come he was smiling...?

"Ah, then about that question-"

"Home. You're home. And this is where you'll be staying, forever." ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) ugh i swear to god i hate every single thing ive ever written for wriothesley he seems so yucky and out of character WJODJKFLJDSMF>

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[marxo-fm]

Sessions

Part One. Part ii and Sessions playlist is out now.

Summary: You’re König’s therapist, and he is utterly and dangerously obsessed with you. He will do anything and everything to make you his.

Warnings: Adult themes and language, plot with smut, smut smut smut, thigh riding (omg this is crazy) stalkerish!König, toxic!König, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, König is filthy…FILTHY, praising.

Words: 4.2K

A/N: I’ve played COD before but just a little so I have no clue about it all (LMAO) but anyways my fyp is invaded with König and Ghost, not complaining, so I decided to write a little something. I heard he’s unstable (?) and there’s a bunch of fics where he has a therapist so I was like…lemme write something like this. I will give credits to writers who’ve inspired me once I find their accounts because I lost them smh. So don’t thank me for this, thank them. Also thanks to Brittany Broski, my rightful leader, for talking about König on the Broski Report Podcast. Made me want to write him some more tbh. ALSO THE GIF??? So scary in the hottest way.

It’s been awhile since König’s last therapy session with you, and it’s been driving him crazier by the minute. He realized now, just how much he wants you, how much he desperately needs you.

——

Weeks turned into days, then hours, minutes, and then seconds. Every tick of the clock had König going mental. The thought of not spending those seconds with you drove him mad and drove him with such urgency to have you by him. To be inside of you, at that.

Fists clenched then unclenched, König couldn't stand it any longer. Desperation ran in his veins like a predator watching their prey. He wanted nothing else but to see what you were up to, and visiting your home, was just the solution to his thoughts and needs.

(…)

It's been a few weeks since your appointment with König, and you're growing concerned. You look at the empty chair in your office, that's been sitting lonely for quite a few weeks. He hasn't called or informed you on why he's been absent, and you're sure he never will

In all honesty, you have no clue why you're so upset about it. Upset about a client who's been absent for weeks too much to count. Maybe it's because you can't help him anymore, well—not anymore, he's still your client. But the mere fact that he's not there to tell you about his problems and stories, or how his day was, bothered you.

Sure, he has things to do. So much more important than meeting up with your therapist right? Surely not, you want to help König to the best of your ability—but he made it so difficult.

You get a phone call that snaps you out of your haze, you pick it up. Only to hear a client of yours on the phone bringing their appointment up, which is today. "Yes! Today at six, correct." You assured, sitting down promptly on your office chair. You're glad you have clients today, something that'll keep you busy.

(…)

König is sitting outside in his car in the rain. The pattering of the rain took over his rather obsessive thoughts. Not only was he in the car alone, but he was right outside your home.

He peeks through your window, seeing only a dim light through the blinds of your house. His chest rose as he took a deep breath, chuckling to himself about how insane this all is. Going all out for your therapist? Never would he have thought to be doing such thing, but he can't help his desires.

He sighs, he gets the urge to exit his car and step foot inside your house and it made him feel dizzy. The thought of just stepping foot inside your property and seeing the items, the furniture—and so forth—that belonged to you. Something you've chosen out and purchased for yourself, with love. Now that, drove him on edge.

He finally exits his car, slamming it shut behind him. The rain drops hit his huge frame and he takes bigger steps to the front of your house. Eager to see the place you call home. The place you eat, sleep, and breathe in. It's all insane, he thought, but he's König. Insanity doesn't faze him.

"Fucking hell, the fuck am I doing?" He chuckled to himself as he somehow manipulated his way into your house. His wet boots are off and placed on the rug that says, "welcome" which is funny in this situation.

He looks around the well kept home, the dimly lit kitchen and living room, as well as the deliciously scented candle that's lit in the living room. Smells like you, coconut and bliss. He takes it in, like the maniac he is.

There was nothing really intriguing to the eye in your home, it's simple and basic, but still very homey. You had your favorite comics on the tv table and the tv was obviously shut off, books were stacked against the bookshelf and a few magazines were on the tables. You love to read, guess that's new information for König to keep to himself.

His big frame hovers over your iPad, without hesitation, he opened it. There wasn't a passcode, just a simple press of the home button and he was in, it wasn't like you had anything to hide and König found amusement in that. König chuckled, there was simply nothing on the iPad besides dates on your calendars that showed you have appointments throughout the month.

"Busy little one, aren't you, Mein Schatz?" He breathed through his mask, though he took it off for the time being, there was no reason to hide himself through a mask when home alone.

He misses you, and it's getting more painful not having you there with him, in your home. He's wondering what you're up to now, and how much time he has left before that lock of your front door turns.

It's a bad idea, he's already seen everything he wanted to see, and now it's time to leave.

Quickly, he puts his wet boots back on and turns the door knob slowly. He looks back at your place and then smiles, this surely won't be the last time he's inside. And he'll make sure it'll be the both of you inside the home at the same time.

(…)

"Anything else you'd like to share, Ghost?" You question Ghost, his eyes telling you so much he hasn't said yet, and you doubt he'll tell you more. You wish he'd say more though, but you're actually proud of today’s session. He shared more than the other sessions, that's always a huge milestone.

"No." He said sternly, his British accent thick and his voice gravely. "Okay great. I'll see you next week then?" He cleared his throat and walks to the door, "busy."

"So when are you able to?" You wonder, "I'll call when I can." He opens the door from your office and leaves. You sigh, at least you tried to the best of your abilities. You close your notebook shut, putting the notebook back into your drawer as you finally set the pen down after.

So, where we're you again? Ah, it's time to go home. Finally.

Well—not just yet. As you're getting your things ready to leave, you hear your office phone ring. Your brows furrowed in confusion as to who's calling this late, all sessions are...closed.

"Hello?" You question, hearing heavy breathing over the phone—you shudder. "Schatz, it's me." The German accent rolled off the man's tongue over the phone, your heart dropped in response. König.

"K-König?" You stuttered, in disbelief at the sudden call. "Mhm, I'm calling to apologize for not coming to our sessions but if I'm being honest...I want to have a session soon this week." He explained over the phone, your brows scrunched.

You're free this week, no sessions left, well one session now. It surprised you that König chose to call you so late over an appointment, but it didn't bother you, just—stunned you. "Of course, when would you like-" König interrupts you suddenly, "tomorrow." He breathed, his voice lower than usual. Laced with huskiness and exhaustion, and need.

Tomorrow? You can't turn that down, because you know that if you do, he won't come to another session for a long time—you feared. You clear your voice over the line, heart beating faster by the second and you're not sure as to why. Must be the sudden urge to come to a session, or maybe because he wants it soon. It's not like you're busy tomorrow or anything, but the mere fact that you'll see König after God knows how long made you nervous.

Something must be wrong, you're sure of it.

"Sure! Tomorrow at two, promise me you'll be there?" He never breaks promises, not with you he doesn't. He agrees over the phone, and the date is officially set. Grabbing your pen you just placed down, you take your König's personal journal and write the date down for tomorrow.

(…)

He was trying to stay composed but it's getting hard. His desires have become more stronger by the minute, and he wanted nothing more than to have you by him.

He ended the call, smirking under the mask after finally hearing your soft voice over the phone. You invaded his mind like a virus he's unable to get rid of, but in all honesty he doesn't want to get rid of it. He would stare at pictures of you all day, and the thought that bothers him the most—the one that boils his blood—is knowing that you have sessions with other men that's not him. Most of them he despises, the other ones he's not really worried about, since well—they're his friends.

It's almost sickening how much he wants you, how much he deeply needs you. Now, König sits on his bed. Mask off and so is his shirt. Revealing nothing but his well crafted muscles and his mind going hundreds of miles per hour of just you.

And to fix that "issue" he takes his rough right hand and puts it underneath his sweats, and then under the hem of his boxers. Finally, he grabs his thick cock tightly and leans his head back. Nothing but images of you holding his dick for him instead, and that just about does it for him. Quickly, he starts to slowly stroke up and down, groans fill the silent room. His strong hand grips the sheets of his bed, the delicate fabric became victim to his touch.

The rings in his ear became louder as he swiped his thumb over his tip that was already leaking, everything around König became a blur as he thought of you continuously. He's never been this obsessed with someone until he met you. He gripped onto his dick harder and his body starts to burn with flames too powerful to put out—and his heart beats quicker.

He's closer to his high than ever, throwing his head back due to the aching pleasure that consumed him. His eyes look at the ceiling, all that hunts his mind is you. You hunt him every second of his day, even when it's König hunting for you. His insides began tightening, the way his cock began to throb in his hand and how his precum brushes against his calloused fingers when his hands move to his sensitive area.

He lets out a final grunt as he looks at the mess he made in his lap, wishing you were there to clean it all up. His orgasm hit him harder than ever, and his breath is shaky. Stunned at how good you made him feel, it wasn't him that made himself feel good, no—it was you. All of it.

He tensed at first, letting rope after rope of his come dirty his abs and sheets. "Look at what you fucking do to me, Liebe." He whispered, beads of sweat roll off his forehead.

(…)

The next day passed, the day König booked his session to see you. Of course he wanted to talk to you about what's going on, but he mostly made the appointment to see you. It's been a long long time. He puts on his uniform and mask, getting all ready for his missions and well—seeing you.

——

You hear a knock. A knock so familiar and it wasn't just like any other knocks from your clients. König had a habit of knocking exactly four times, and it's a habit he has with you. You shout, "welcome in!" as you take your notebook and pen out. You put your glasses on and present yourself professionally.

König's huge frame stands before you, and you gasped. It's been so long since you've last seen him, you’re now practically strangers. "König! You're here." You proclaimed, welcoming him with a simple hand motion to the chair. "Hello, Mein Schatz." He greets, his voice husky. He looks at you through his eyes, investigating the way you sit professionally and have everything well kept and neat. It almost bothered him, in a good way.

You broke the tension with a question, “anything new?” He continued taking a good look at you, hungrily. It doesn’t show through his mask, but his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

You cleared your throat, waiting for König’s response. “I don’t like the new addition to the missions.” He said sternly, his fists clench and you could tell that bothered him to the extreme. “Why is that? Do you perhaps think they’re weak and unnecessary?” You queried.

He shifts in his spot, “Ja, I don’t like unnecessary addictions. I find it a nuisance.”

“Is it because you prefer having the men you’re familiar with more.. than the new men looking to work the same missions as you?” He prompts his elbows on his knees, leaning closer to the conversation. He is clearly interested in answering. “Yes. Exactly. We don’t need anymore men, we have quite enough of them.” His German accent is thicker, deeper. Cutting through like knife to butter. Your pen wrote down his answers as well as your thoughts in the notebook.

He watched you like a hawk, looking at you closely while you do your job. “Is there anything else, König?” You wonder, his dull eyes sparkled when he hears you say his name. “Hm,” he voiced, “you.”

Your brows furrow at his answer, you cross your legs and place your pen down. Unsure of what he means, and well of course, the therapist you are, you think maybe he has something he needs to say about you. “Did I do something wrong?” You stammered, unable to look him in his piercing gaze.

He chuckled, and you think maybe you embarrassed yourself with such question. “No, Mein Schatz, I need you.” He put forth. Your stomach drops at his answer, crimson red swipes across your cheek and you feel as though you’re going to pass out.

Never in a million years would you have thought to hear König admitting to the fact that he needs you. It stunned you in all honesty.

“I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, Ich werde verrückt.” He points his index finger to his head, “what does that mean?” You question. The part where he spoke in German, you wonder what he means.

He stood up, and you scooted your chair back in response. “It means I’m going crazy, Liebe, you drive me crazy.” König voiced.

You mistook his answer, mistook it thinking that you made him crazy in the worst way possible. “I-I’m sorry, we can gladly stop our sessio-“ he interrupts you, and it’s not the first time.

“Ts ts, I don’t want to. I meant,” he paused, then began, “you drive me crazy with need.” He explained.

You never knew you made him feel that way, and you look around the office just thinking about how unprofessional this all is. “König, when would you like your next session?” You dismissed what he said earlier, you just need to recollect yourself. Your feelings, thoughts and emotions. He just looks at you, quietly.

You walk to the door, and he walks behind you. Each step he took was heavy—and loud, sending shudders throughout your body. He stood behind you, the heat radiating from his body and on to yours.

His right arm reaches out for the doorknob and your heart dropped into a million pieces. God, he knew how to make anyone nervous.

He opens the door for you, and he finds himself out first, but before he does, he says something. “Next week, Friday.” He states, and then walks out of your office.

You take deep breaths, like you’ve been choked and you’ve lost all oxygen. You’ve realized now, just how much König’s little actions made you feel hundreds of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

(…)

König steps foot inside your office. It’s Friday, and what happened the last session felt like it happened yesterday. His mind is all you, it’s all its ever been. Now he will use this opportunity to his dismay. “Hello, König.” You greet professionally, seated on your black chair.

König takes a careful look at you, he misses you immensely although it’s been a week. He noticed your outfit. Your tight black skirt that hugged your curves perfectly, and your white button up accentuating your breasts. He could open your legs wide right then and there and devour you like he hasn’t eaten in days, he’s drooling at the thought.

You turn to speak, and his entire attention shifts to your plump lips. And of course, König’s mind is filled with dirty thoughts. Too lewd to think out loud.

“Is there anything in particular that you would like to discuss today?” Your soft voice made his ears ring, and he couldn’t help the bulge forming in his pants. König wanted to admit that you’ve been on his mind, but he held himself back and contained it. “I’ve just been stressed.” He admits, and it’s true. All the mission stuff had him drained by the second.

“Oh? And why is that?” You questioned, he manspreads on your couch in the office, using the space to sit comfortably. His long legs and big thighs were spread apart, making it a perfect seat for you to sit on, is what he’s thinking. You gulp at the sight in front of you, and he takes his time with his answer.

“I don’t know, honestly. There’s just something new everyday.” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

You get up from your seat and prompt yourself next to him. His knees touching yours, and your actions shocked König—just a tad. That’s a lie, it shocked him, a lot.

He wanted to fulfill his fantasies right there, he had you in his sight and reach, but again—containing himself. “Talk to me, König.” You comfort, rubbing small circles on his hand. The action caused him to flinch, but he doesn’t say anything—yet.

After a few seconds, he answers, “I got into a fight with a lieutenant. I’d rather save that for another session.” Groaned König. “Okay, if that makes you comfortable.” You drawl, “how about coming to three sessions in a row? When would you like your next appointment?” You made sure to ask if there was anything else, but to your surprise—there wasn’t.

“Today.” He states sternly, you’re confused. “It’s already today, König?” You trailed off, dissociating at his answer. “I know, Liebe, I want our session to begin today.”

“But we’ve already finished our session for today.” You argued, all that König had contained was finally let out. He grabs his hand and wraps it around your throat, his actions made you let out a loud gasp, and with that—König lifts his mask up and kisses you.

You instinctively kiss him back, aware of how unprofessional this all is, but oddly enough—you didn’t really care.

König groans against your hot mouth, sending vibrations down your entire body. König felt like he was in a dream, finally kissing you didn’t feel real, you tasted too good to be real. He finally has you in his reach, and in his mouth. Your scent overtook his senses, and it drove him right over the edge. He could fall off and die happily, knowing he’s finally tasted you.

You deepen the kiss, and he bit your bottom lip in return, alerting you to open your mouth wider and let him in. He wants to devour you whole and you just let it happen. His tongue finds yours, and there you both are, kissing each other so roughly. His grip on your neck tightens just a little, not too hard, still allowing you to breathe. Though the kiss had you suffocating already.

More, more, more. Is what König says to himself in his mind, but you let go of the kiss. String of saliva leaves his mouth as you let go. Oxygen had left your body entirely, and you’re there gasping for air. You wouldn’t be surprised to see if your lips had been bruised from the rough and deep kiss. You’ve never been kissed like that before, or ever.

The both of you pant, you can’t believe what just happened. You’ve fully realized what he meant earlier, insisting he has another session. This is the session, and you don’t think it’s going to end soon. “Come here.” He ordered, patting his thigh. Your eyes dart to his big thighs, thighs that could crush you if he wanted to.

You did as he said, sitting right down on his right leg, in your point of view—to your left. He holds your waist tightly, balancing you so you don’t fall. Though you’re already holding onto his broad shoulders for support. “Why do you have me like this?” You question, flustered. König loves to see it, to see you flustered even though you never tried to admit it. He had that power.

“Liebe, do you know just how much I crave you? How much I’ve wanted to see you like this…?” he began, “you’re going to do as I say, right?” He asked lowly. You nod, heat rushing throughout your entire body from his needy words. You never knew how much he needed you, and it actually hit you. König, out of all people.

Secretly, you loved that. His desperation made you admire him, it must’ve been so difficult to contain such desires and feelings. Unaware of what he’ll say or do next, you wait. Patiently.

“Ride me, Mein Schatz.” Your mouth gaped open at his words, his fingers dug deep into your skirt, so deep you’re afraid it’ll leave a bruise. “K-König, what?” In disbelief, you stay still. You’ve never done anything of the sort, for fucks sake, you’re a virgin. König doesn’t know that—yet. Though you plan on telling him. And you plan on telling him now.

“I’ve never done this before, I’m a virgin, König.” You murmured lowly, but still loud enough for him to hear. “Oh, meine Prinzessin,” he looks at you like some prized treasure you are. His prized treasure that he wanted to display for the world to see. “Do you want to do this?” He consented, you look at him with eyelids so heavy.

You’re more than sure you want to do this with him, virginity isn’t a game, and you knew that. He knew that too. But you want to give it to König and you’ve already confirmed it before saying anything.

“I…I do.” You cup his face, hidden back underneath his mask. “I can’t go on if you’re not sure, liebe, tell me—do you want to do this?” He repeats his question, and you want to shout at his face the word yes, but you remain calm. “I really do, König. Show me the real you.”

“Want me to show you?” His accent is stronger laced with hunger, pulling you closer to him. He got the affirmation he needed, and you nod in assurance. He grabs your hips at once, and slowly moves them back and forth. Your brows furrow at the feeling of your soaked panties grinding against his rough combat pants. The new feeling had you addicted and König loves to see you fall apart little by little.

His cock ached and pressed harder against his pants as your hands grip onto his broad shoulder, tighter. The friction from his pants and your grinding made you let out a moan you didn’t know you were capable of making. A moan König could only hear in his head, except it became reality, and König was trapped in a haze. He saw the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your lips pout as he helped you ride it out.

“So beautiful.” He huffs, pulling you back and forth even faster. You could feel your stomach twist into knots, alerting you that your orgasm is near, but riding against his thigh wasn’t enough. You needed more. “K-König…please.” You whimpered out, he tilts his head, getting the hint.

“Please what? Mein Schatz?” It felt like he was teasing you, but maybe he just needs to know what you’re saying please for. “Touch me.” You demand, desperately needing his rough and big fingers to touch you. “Ohhh darling, you don’t have to ask me twice.” He does just as you asked, rubbing slow circles with the pad of his thumb on your clothed cunt. He smiled under his mask at how wet you are.

The bundle of nerves formed tightly, forming at the very pit of your stomach. Flames ran through your veins and your body burned with lust. You found it difficult to hold his gaze as your orgasm is nearing. “You’re too good to me, liebe, you’re doing so good.” He praised, his eyes focused on your motions and he could just come at the sight of that. “K-König! I’m going to-“ he interrupts you, grabbing your hips with both of his hands and moves you back and forth impossibly faster.

“Come, schön, be a good fucking girl for me and let it out. I know you can do it.” He grunts, talking you through it. His praising and words of encouragement did just enough for you to reach your high. It felt like fireworks were exploding in your stomach, and your legs shook. It was all too much to bare, and you still rode it out.

“Attagirl, wasn’t so hard now was it, meine Liebe?” He appeals, holding your waist still as you tried to regain every last bit of dignity left with each inhale and exhale. “You think we’re done yet? Oh love, we’re just getting started.”

——

NOTE: This is just part 1 peeps, I honestly thought it was getting a bit too long (imo) so I thought—hey—why not turn this into a mini series? Hehe. Stay tuned for part 2, coming very soon. Also, if you’d like to be in my tag list, it’d be my pleasure. Just let me know in the comments. (Btw, English is definitely not my first language…so if there are any grammatical errors and mistakes, please let me know in the comments so I can fix them.)

:)

[shxtodxroki]

𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍

Summary: Shoto has a meltdown after having a nightmare of you leaving him, telling him that you no longer loved him and felt suffocated in your relationship. Luckily you’re right beside him when he wakes up from the awful dream, there to hold and reassure him that you love him more than he could ever know.

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending), insecurities, Shoto has a meltdown

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Almond - Roommate AU

Sweet Pea - “Character has a nightmare about reader leaving them, reader comforts them”

- Shoto hastily pushed the door to his home open without much thought, shoulders drooping from exhaustion as he immediately dropped his bags at the door

- It had been a particularly long day of hero work, and he felt as if he was running on empty in that moment, craving a warm embrace from you that he could melt into as he finally allowed himself to rest

- After he had closed the door behind him and moved to take off his shoes, however, he noticed how eerily quiet the apartment was, seemingly lacking your presence entirely

- You would almost ALWAYS greet him at the door of your shared apartment once he arrived home, placing a heartfelt kiss on his cheek as you wrapped your arms around his waist, but he tried not to dwell on these details as he assumed you had simply fallen asleep early this evening or were otherwise preoccupied at the moment

- As Shoto made his way to the kitchen, though, quickly pouring himself a glass of juice and re-heating some leftover noodles from the dinner you had shared together the evening prior, he felt a sense of bitter dread growing in his stomach that was difficult to ignore. It started off barely noticeable, just a small gnawing inside of him, but it left him feeling uneasy and quickly began to grow as he attempted to push the anxiety out of his mind and enjoy his meal

- Shoto was unable to shake the unease he felt at the fact that you had yet to come see or acknowledge him at all, however, and he quickly found himself unable to think about anything else as he set his glass down and quickly sped over to the bedroom door

- He tried to convince himself that he was being ridiculous, that nothing was wrong and you were most likely just in the shower or something like that where you couldn’t rush out to him right that moment

- But you had ALWAYS kept the routine of greeting him at the door when he came home. You had never missed it, not ONCE throughout your entire time living together, so it was difficult to convince himself that this was something simple and innocent

- When Shoto pushed open your shared bedroom door to see an empty bed, he only felt his worry grow as his eyes shifted around looking for you

- Instead, however, as his eyes glances hastily around the room he was met with a sight that caused a pit to form in his stomach, eyes welling up with tears faster than he could control as the realization of what was happening began to hit him

- The majority of your belongings had been removed from the room, nearly all traces of you in the house suddenly bare despite having been there just this morning when he had left for work. All of your trinkets on the nightstand, the posters you had begged him to help you hang up on the walls, the clothes hanging on your now opened side of the closet, all gone without a trace

- It was as if Shoto’s lungs were collapsing, eyes filling so heavily with tears that he could only make out mere blobs and shapes in front of him as he noticed a sleet white sheet of paper resting atop your bed

- He didn’t want to read it, every cell in his heart was begging him to spare the heartbreak he already knew he would find in the letter, but his anxiety overpowered all else he was feeling

- He had to know for sure, had to know that what he thought was happening was TRULY happening as he felt his world crashing down around him, causing him to reach out and begin scanning the paper through his tear-filled eyes

- “Shoto,

I’m sorry to have to do this to you, I really am. I wish I could give you a proper goodbye at least, to tell you this in person, but I’m a coward. I’m far too much of a coward to own up to the consequences of my actions and the heartbreak I know you’ll feel in person, so I hope this letter suffices, at least in some way. 

Even though I know it won’t.

Honestly, I don’t think I can say I’m in love with you anymore. I don’t think I have been for quite a while now, in fact. I care about you, quite a lot, which was why I avoided this for so long. But I feel so suffocated, stuck in a relationship I don’t want to be in, living together every day and not being able to say anything. So I had to leave, and I had to do it fast before I could talk myself out of it.

Please don’t try to find me. I no longer love you, and I’m completely done with this relationship. I'm washing my hands of it, and nothing can change my mind, I’m just sorry I had to do this in such a cowardly way. You don’t deserve this, but i just can’t pretend to be happy like this any more when I know I’m not.

-Y/n”

- Loud, guttural sobs echoed through the room, the sound bouncing off the walls and into Shoto’s ears as he collapsed on the floor in pure agony. Your note was covered in tear stains at this point, his hand shaking violently as he clutched it and sobbed into his knees

- Shoto felt like he was burning, all of his emotions were overwhelming his senses and he could feel his vision going black around him. His chest hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt, and as the reality of you breaking up with him fully set in, Shoto felt as if he was falling, sinking deep into a black abyss where he could feel nothing but pain all throughout his body…

- Sweat covered Shoto’s body as he shot awake in his bed, eyes opening wide in a frenzy as he breathed rapidly. He could feel tears staining his cheeks, still falling at rapid speed over the pain he felt as he began to panic once more, before you gently reached your hand over to hold his own

- Shoto’s eyes immediately shot over to yours, stunned to see you laying beside him, eyes still groggy and heavy from sleep as you looked at him with a confused expression and held his hand carefully in yours

- “Sho, what’s going on? What happened?” You asked, concern immediately covering your features as you noticed the tear tracks along his cheeks and the visible signs that a meltdown was near for Shoto

- As your boyfriend looked at you, still glancing at him with all the love and concern in your heart and gently rubbed shapes along the back of his hand in a gentle attempt to soothe him, Shoto realized that you breaking up with him had just been a nightmare. A horrible, devastating nightmare

- Shoto couldn’t possibly be more thankful than he was in that moment

- The sobs almost immediately returned at the realization, though, the memory of the dream and the pain it caused him still so vivid in his mind. He knew it wasn’t real, but the insecurity it was founded from was so hard to shake, even as Shoto pulled himself into your very real, very loving arms right beside him

- Shoto was burning up, losing control over his typically well-regulated temperature even on his cool side due to his panic, and you could see that it wasn’t time to ask questions in that moment

- You could resolve the issue he was dealing with later, but right now, you just needed to be there to comfort and console him, to help Shoto come down from the ledge of fear he was stuck on in his mind

- This wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar situation to you. Though your boyfriend typically tried his best to quell his internal fears and worries, he still found them slipping through on occasion, so you luckily knew exactly how to comfort him in moments like these

- You swiftly pulled the man into you, allowing his tears to stain your shirt and his sniffles and sobs to ring throughout the bedroom as you used one hand to gently run your fingers through his soft hair and the other to rub his back soothingly

- You knew you needed to get him some water to cool him down before he got too hot and gave himself a fever, but with how panicked he clearly was in that moment, you figured you could wait just a few minutes before tending to that need. You kept it at the front of your mind, knowing that you needed to get him physically taken care of as soon as you were able, but you knew Shoto couldn’t handle you leaving him right now, so you tabled that matter for the moment

- And so you simply sat there, cradling your boyfriend in your arms and attempting to soothe him however you could as you let him cry until his sobs were reduced to small sniffles and he finally felt ready to talk, not wanting to rush him whatsoever

- “I… I had an awful dream.” Shoto started when his heart had finally eased enough for him to speak, the comfort of your arms around him reminding him that what he had seen was nothing but a dream, a subconscious manifestation of his unfounded insecurities

- "You left me. You left while I was out at work, didn’t even say goodbye. You just wrote a note, telling me that you didn’t love me any more and couldn’t live in a relationship where you felt suffocated.” The tears came back to Shoto’s eyes as he rememebred the harsh, piercing words of the imaginary note, nuzzling his face into your chest in order to prevent himself from falling back into a panic

- “Oh, baby.” You responded, cradling your boyfriend’s head tightly in your head as you immediately jumped to soothe his insecurities. “I would never do that to you, you hear me? I love you so much Shoto, I always will and I couldn’t be happier than I am with you. I hope you know that”

- “I do, angel.” He replied, the last embers of anxiety leaving his body as he was finally rid of the terrible nightmare and its effects on him. 

- You were here you were happy, and you loved him. He knew that, he truly did, despite his worries and insecurities sometimes trying to contest that truth.

- “I know that you worry sometimes, Sho. But please know you’re more than enough for me. You’re all I could ever ask for in a boyfriend, and I’d never do to you what that imaginary, awful version of me did in that dream.” You reminded him in a halfhearted attempt to lighten the mood, eyes brightening when you saw the softest, smallest of smiles cross your boyfriend’s face.

- Seeing that Shoto was no longer in a frenzy, you found the time to slip out of his hold just enough to reach for the glass of ice water you kept on your bedside table, immediately returning to his hold and pressing the glass to his lips to cool him down once you managed to reach it

- “You’re more than I could ever ask for angel, I’m so happy to have you.” Shoto responded, feeling exhaustion seep back into his body as he finally released the energy he had been holding in over the dream and realized just how late it was

- The yawn your boyfriend quietly let out as he continued to cuddle with you on the floor made you realize that it was probably time for the two of you to be getting back to bed, now that Shoto was content and relaxed once more

- “Come on baby, let’s get you back to sleep.” You muttered, standing up before reaching out your hand to help Shoto up as well. “And this time, only dream of good things, okay?”

- “I hope I will, love.” Shoto replied, making his way back to his side of the bed and immediately cuddling up to your side as you turned off your bedside lamp. Holding you always helped ease him into sleep, content knowing you were safe in his arms even in your most vulnerable state

- “Goodnight, Sho. Sweet dreams.” You whispered into the darkness of the room, closing your eyes and pulling him tightly into you as Shoto pressed a light kiss to your cheek in response before quickly drifting back off into dreamland, nightmares long gone from his mind this time as he slept peacefully beside you

A/N: I haven’t written for this event in so long oh my god, I never finished all the requests so hopefully I’ll get through them soon! When I looked on this doc today and remembered the prompt, though, I knew I HAD to finish it, I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you guys enjoy it too! This event is currently closed lol since it’s from quite a while ago, but I’ll probably be doing more like it soon so be sure to be on the lookout for that! My requests ARE open right now, though, and I’m currently working on making a request list, so if you have a request feel free to send it in to me! :)

Taglist: @rebloglikeyouneedtoo @pasteldaze @yeagerfushiguro @papijean @deadmans-toe @trashy-bowtie @palenightmarepersona @thekaylahub @applepie-macaroon @lady-juliette @ghostofscarley @swiftbyul @shinsosmatcha

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

[fleursbending]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫. | Neteyam Sully

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : green is all you see, and for once it's not because you live in the midst of the damn jungle. it's because envy and greed consume you. what's the root cause of it? neteyam and your supposed friend who is trying to definitely charm him. 

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 : “This—” [points at their chest] “—this belongs to you. Always.”

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : neteyam sully x fem!omaticaya reader.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : requested, yes | no. hellooo idk where this came from, but here we are at least another request done! just wanted to put a lil something out because the songcords are some chonky mfs and taking some time! so hope you enjoy. this is loosely based on "my heart it beats for you" - grentperez (filo represent!)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : jealousy, flirting w/o clear consent?, neteyam is so boyfie/bbg here, protective!nete, ur friend is an asshat, hurt/comfort, established relationship, cussing, fluff yippee!

𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : olo’eyktan - clan leader, yaymak - foolish/ignorant, tsamsiyu - warrior, oeyä - my (possessive), hawnu - protect/shelter, muntxate - wife/mate.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.5k words !

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 :  @pandorainmymind @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @purplehyacinthss-deactivated202 @itssiaaax @neteyamoa @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1 @forasgaard @iwaslikeblah @dumb-fawkin-bitch @theicemav @narutoboi @azaleaniath @goosemothersblog

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇, especially if you have to witness the cause of such erratic inner turmoil. 

She hadn't meant to wander this close to the training grounds, and truthfully she had no clue how her little detour brought her here. 

Alas, perhaps she'd gravitated here for a reason. After all, Neteyam was training some warriors-to-be, and maybe now she could catch a glimpse of him in action without disrupting the lesson.

She missed him, the consistent need of kissing him like the ocean does to the tide as it retreats back to shore. It held her heart in a monumental lock, Neteyam had infiltrated her thoughts once again. To be fair, she could not be blamed for this - they'd barely been around each other the past few days. 

Jake had become even sterner, prepping his son for when he'd take the mantle of Olo'ekytan as it is handed down to him. It had Neteyam wishing he could talk back, just simply out of spite. To demand some room, freedom to spend more time with you. But the only thing keeping him grounded and sane was the fact that perhaps once this is all over, and he has secured his place as the leader of the clan - maybe then things would settle. He'd get to be around you more, even if it is through lingering touches and a fuse charged to his heart due to the yearning glances from across two ends of a place in their home in the midst of the forest. 

His desire to cross the finish line had increased by tenfold at the mere thoughts flittering in his brimming mind. To start a family with you, live his life to the fullest with you…that was all he's yearned for. 

But now she's cursing herself, feet stomping onto the forest ground with uncertainty brewing deep in her bones. ___ did not know whether or not to be pissed beyond belief or let her heart sink into the doubts already sneering at her. 

Because through the thick branches, she stood behind to peer into the training grounds, the sight before her was certainly something to behold. 

Training my ass! Speaking of ass, is she pressing hers into- what the actual fuck? 

Her heart drummed in her ears, and suddenly fury fills her veins until she feels ashamed. Is this what has been going on all this time? How could her friend act on the attractions that she seemed to very obviously have? Neteyam was spoken for. 

___ best friend stood a good few metres away from where she had unintentionally hidden, pressed too closely to Neteyam as he tries to readjust her stance and the way she grips her bow. 

That coniving little… ___ had already taught the ins and outs of how to control her bow and how to aim it. They did this months ago. She wanted to give her friend the benefit of the doubt, maybe she just needed some touching up? But why wouldn't she have just gone to you?

Such questions fizzle out as her eyes cut to your own, unnerving and edging on callousness. Oh, so this definitely was purposeful. 

She knows more than anyone else that her boyfriend is capable of holding his own, but sometimes - he is just a little dense. Especially around the ladies of the clan, and the fact that every female (even males) wants a piece of him. 

Not even just to be the Tsahik of the future Olo'ekytan, but because he inherited the beauty of his mother - the roughness of his father. He also had a very protective demeanor, never hesitating to be vocal about his genuine adoration for you - or back you up when a situation demanded of it. 

It lights a fuse in the back of your mind then, a raging insistent thought that you'd try to tone down the moment you realised that you were each other's, person. That hopefully nothing was going to come of the way of that. 

But your supposed friend is definitely coming in the way of you acting civil right now. 

Maybe you just weren't good enough for him, never able to live up to everything Neteyam is known for and will come to be.

Jake had told Neteyam that he could begin to train other like-minded Na'vi - the people of the Omaticaya that wanted to become warriors. Saying in the same sentence how his dear friend Tsu'tey used to do the same. 

It instilled him with great pride and honor, which he was undeniably blinded by in this current moment as your friends' fingertips graze his arm in a very flirtatious manner. 

Disdain clawed at your skin then, making you want to scratch at your arms. Did she willingly sign up for these lessons? Yaymak, she's taking up the time of true soon-to-be warriors who await more proper training. 

She lets out a loud and very obnoxious giggle, and Neteyam doesn't acknowledge a thing - still too focused on the lesson. The fuse imploded then. 

All the doubts came gushing in at once, searing to your skin as envy wilts around your conscience. Green is all you see, and for once it's not because you live in the midst of the damn jungle. It's because envy and greed consume you. Betrayal too, towards the friend you lost and your lover who was too focused on living up to the legacy of two influential men of the clan. 

Oh maybe, just maybe you had to unwillingly entertain such detrimental thoughts.

There's a reason why the clan is so unbashful in their efforts of trying to claim Neteyam as their one and only mate for a  lifetime. 

You weren't enough in their eyes. 

You'd come from a mediocre family, hunters on the bottom of the hierarchy - nothing remotely remarkable. 

Nothing compared to your soon-to-be ex-friend who is inching her way closer into Neteyam's chest - whose mother is also incredibly close to Neytiri.

___ was really wishing for Eywa right about now. That the atkorinas that had danced among the sky and brushed your shoulders when you and Neteyam shared your first kiss, were not something she had hopelessly imagined. 

With fists clenched, Neteyam releases the arrow. Bullseye.

"Yep, that's how I do it." He just smiles down at her respectfully, stepping back unintentionally as he reloads his bow to demonstrate it one more time.

The girl inflicting all this bitterness and resentment frowned then, before turning slightly and meeting your teary eyes once again. 

She knew you were there and was still doing this? Yeah, she can rot in hell.

In an instant, she squeals, but it's still a late reaction to what he had just shown - jumping to him and giving Neteyam an audacious hug. 

Great mother, she was testing your resolve. Your claim. ___ can't do this, can't bare witness to such crude manners and undeterred actions from someone she had confided in and befriended for a large part of her life. 

Before you knew it, you were fumbling, feet stepping on a hollow stick.

Snap. It echoes in the now still air, missing how Neteyam had flinched and retreated from her hug immediately. His features darkened as he spat out, "Don't touch me like that. You are here to learn, so learn."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Two heads whip towards you as ___ bolts off, not daring to take a quick glance back at where you had left your broken heart.

Neteyam is only just able to catch a glimpse of who had suddenly retreated, dread drenching him in a mere half second once everything falls into place. 

It was his yawntu.

The need to please his father and live up to the great hold his uncle Tsu'tey still had on his people sputters, becoming an afterthought.

"How dare you take advantage of me like this?" He thunders at the now floundering girl. 

She gapes and stutters. But nothing flows through his ears. How pathetic.

"You're her best friend!" He hissed, ears laying flat in vexation. 

Once again nothing leaves her suddenly parched mouth, and it leaves him utterly cross. Neteyam decides then to drag salt across the wound.

"You are not capable of being a warrior, especially if you cannot take my lessons seriously. I suggest you head back to where you belong because I will not teach someone as lousy as you - ever - again." He glowered, snatching the practice bow out of her hands and proceeding to not only snap it in half - but throw it on the ground as well.

"Neteyam!" She desperately calls at the same time he yells out for you, running in the same direction he had seen you flee. 

He doesn't bother to pivot and throw more spite at the already frightened girl who had tried to make advances on him, it was her fault they got caught in that position (literally).

The ever-so-mighty tsamiyu now feels like he is shackled to the forest floor as he calls out for you again, frowning as his feet dig into the soil beneath him once finally finds you.

There you are, winsome as you quietly sob into the palm of your hands that cover the aggrieved expression that painted your features. The waterfall cascaded down on you as you pushed yourself to sit inside the little cave that had created itself over the years right behind it. 

A jolt ripples through ___ as Neteyam instinctively brings you into a hug the moment he reaches you, pressing repetitive kisses to your forehead. 

You let yourself feel the wrath of your thoughts then, right at their peak - so you can come to terms with them. They can settle and move away from having you anchored down like you were currently.

A gut-wrenching sigh ebbed out of you then, whispering to Neteyam apologetically. 

"I know, I know it's not your fault. I'm sorry I reacted this way."

He just shakes his head in turmoil then, features hardened at the thought of you having to witness him try to be swayed by someone who he didn't find trifling interest in. Someone who had been in your inner circle of friends. 

Neteyam felt scorned, struggling to find words that can appease both of you. This is all unexplored territory to him, he'd never had to deal with someone so bold that was also trying to get with him. The eldest Sully is so unapologetically enamored, essentially soaking in all the love and devotion he has for you. There's so much of it to go around, that even his heart sometimes grapples with where to place it all. 

He necessitated, tone yearning for you to see him. "I hope you know, these were never my intentions. To hurt you, for her to act so-...for it to turn out - I was trying to appease my father and it's just been-"

You cut him off, understanding and knowing all too well of the troubles and responsibilities that have been bestowed upon him and weigh heavily on his broad shoulders. 

"Nete, I know. Really, it's just my mind playing games with me. It is not your fault that she decided to, well - ruin our friendship. You also did not deserve such treatment when time is already not on your side right now. I'm sorry for that."

___ doesn't meet his eyes, instead her own are downcast - allowing her hair to hang like a curtain over her blotchy face due to the tears that she had just shed.

"___." He utters with purpose, hands moving to push your damp hair back and away from your face.

You hum lowly, eyes still holding a peculiar melancholy and distant as ever. 

His hand pressing to your heart is what shatters you from the reverie.

Neteyam's amber eyes are fierce, bold, and enraptured with the deepest appreciation for you. 

Now he knows he holds your attention,

“This—”, he points to his chest then, vehemently and with such precision it has your heart stilling for a moment, “—this belongs to you. Always.”

A shudder breaks from your lips then, astounded and in awe that he is all yours. Shaking hands fold over his that still are motioning to his own heart. 

The heart that had been ever so charmed by your delightful presence, so effortlessly whole due to the affections you bestowed upon him over the years of his childhood up til now.

You're each other's eternities, aligned with the stars and the atkorina's. ___ is sure of it now.

He'd orbit around you as long as you wished for him to. A shield and a protector for this lifetime and the ones that followed. Neteyam liked to believe that if there was another life, you'd fall right into place beside one another. That your love would just shift and begin again. 

If only he knew you thought the exact same thing, especially now as you just appreciate Neteyam for all that he is and who he'll come to be. He has big shoes to fill, but you know he'll be just fine. 

"As does mine. Always." You whisper with consolation, delicate and saccharine. 

His heart squeezes, hands darting away from yours to cup your face as he let his head dip into yours.

It was a movement that was second-hand nature to him now, a daily occurrence of sorts.

Neteyam breathes you in, letting your aura wrap around his being.

Your arms capture him in return, fingers trailing down the divots that line his spine as he allows himself to melt into your hold. Tension fusing into ease.

"You're not mad at me?" He questions, mindlessly playing with a strand of your still-damp hair.

"I'm not mad at you, oeyä hawnu."

His heart flutters then, a light blush dusting his cheeks. He shyly whines into the nape of your neck, your response is to giggle in return.

"You know what calling me that, does to me! I guess it's time to once again show my affection to you in front of all the people!"

You squeal his name as he suddenly lifts you up, throwing over you his shoulder as he wades out into the real world and across the water, away from your little bubble.

Bursts of laughter mingle with the bustling sounds of nature as he makes his way back to your home base.

 Neteyam will gladly let everyone know how devoted he is to you, to make sure they know that he isn't kidding around when he said you'd be his future muntxate.

In his heart and soul, he knew you were the only person Pandora made for him in the eyes of Eywa. That's how it always will be, is the thought that springs to both of your minds in that very moment. The great mother wishes then she could give you a sign then, but she rectifies herself then.

Your heart beats when with each other speaks enough.

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡ // a/n: i tried using ___ instead of y/n cos i was getting tired of it lmk if that's ok. also LMAOO i imagined the waterfall as the hsm2 scene, the pool iyky!

[infernalodie]

𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 || 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

“𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘔𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘥𝘶𝘮𝘣, 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘦 '𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴“

Inspo: Henry Verus - REVENGE Henry Verus - loveletter

Pairing: Cassie Howard x Male!reader

Summary: Revenge was always the answer...

Warnings: Angst, toxic vibes, smut, unprotected sex, and even more toxic vibes

Words: 2190

DNI IF YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

A wise man once said, “Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.” The meaning of it was that the person willing to make that commitment, willing to ruin themselves to hurt another only led to their only damnation. But you wondered if he knew how much that matched the situation you had found yourself in.

A situation and place in time where you could only feel the air being sucked free from your lungs. An uncontrollable fury that flowed through your bloodstream. Creating shakes in your hands as you tried to bottle all that you were feeling. Chest rising in falling in quick and angry puffs as you tuned in on the secret you had discovered only a mere night ago. The sounds you had heard upon entering your home. Spotting those all too familiar sneakers by the front door.

Oh, man, you were seething with rage. And hearing those moans, that fragile voice calling out your brother's name. That might’ve been one of the darkest moments in your life. Close behind the videotapes of your father, that has scarred you for life.

And when you entered Nate’s room, you found the one thing that changed your outlook on dating or women. Although Nate was part of the blame, Cassie fell under his spell. She knew half the fucked up shit he’d done in the past, yet, she still followed through on fucking him. She easy. She wasn’t endgame material and you should’ve realized that a while ago.

But that had been the night things changed between you and Cassie. You couldn’t look at her like she was a normal human being. If anything, now, you looked at her like a piece of property- Nate’s property because that was what she was now. It had been the same with Maddy and it was now happening with your girlfriend. 

She broke up with you not long after that night, and she was surprised to find you took it so easily. Thinking that she ended things peacefully with you and carried on with her days. But she should’ve been able to see the dark look in your eyes when she ended things. Although you did love her, she was far too gone to be saved. A piece of property was what she was now. Except, there was one thing you knew about Nate’s property and it was that he didn’t like that property to be touched.

So, here you were, standing in the far corner of the party ensuing around you. Falling Back by Drake blasted in the background as you continued to stare at your ex. Seeing her smile and enjoying her time with your brother. Feeling that guttural rage begin to build and build each moment you watched. The fact that they were happy, genuinely happy with one another was a shot in the back. Not only by your brother but by Cassie as well.

You wanted to set their world on fire. Just the idea of them suffering as you slowly widdle down their psyche was just blissful. Pretty fucked up, but the fact that Cassie had practically moved into your house, you weren’t merciful anymore. Especially now that you and your father spent most of the nights with football on, beers in hand, and hoping that the casters’ voices can block out the moans belonging to Cassie.

No, they didn’t deserve your mercy. They didn’t deserve the side of you that would roll over and accept the reality of the situation. So, when you spotted Lexi in the crowd talking to Kat, a lightbulb ignited in your mind.

Downing the rest of your drink, you made your way across the busy living room and to the kitchen where Lexi was. Entering, you moved past the two girls and to the bottles on the counter. Kat had dismissed herself to pick up Ethan’s call, giving you the chance you needed.

“Hey, Lex,” you greeted, causing the girl to turn around, her soft smile on display at the sight of you. But it faltered when seeing the bags under your eyes and hair slightly astray.

“Oh, hey, Y/n. How’s your night going?” She asked with a soft chuckle.

You pursed your lips with a shrug, offering a forced smile. “Just as anyone could expect nowadays.” Glancing past the girl, you could still see Cassie hanging onto Nate’s side. You nodded to the pair, a stab of pain in your chest. “But they look like they’re having fun though.”

She glanced over, scoffing at the sight of her sister drunk and being with Nate. “She’s going to get her heart broken in no time. After everything he’s done, she still goes to him.” You offered a red solo cup to her, pausing her ranting as she thanked you before she continued. “I mean, how dumb is she?”

Squinting your eyes, you stared at the blonde. “I mean, I dated her, so I can confirm that she is quite dumb. Maybe a few screws loose as well.” Your statement made the girl laugh, enabling a smile to form on your lips.

A lot of your friends didn’t exactly align with your brother as you hung out with drug addicts and the gossip girls of East Highland. Lexi was a part of that group and there was a genuine friendship you had with her. But, if you wanted to get some payback, you would have to twist it in a way that may piss Cassie off. Just the first stab into her heart that might show that this was just the start.

So, with nothing so much as a warning, your arm wrapped around Lexi’s waist and you pulled her into your chest. The squeak that fell from her lips made you smile, tilting your head as you stared down at the girl. “Just play along.”

“Y/n, what are you-” Lexi couldn’t help but stop herself, glancing in her sister’s direction. Finding the blonde watching intently of the position Lexi had found herself in. But the longer she stared at her sister, the longer she found reasons as to why she should listen to you. To get payback. To get revenge.

So, she looked up at you, glancing down at your lips before back up at your eyes. And it was her turn to take you by surprise, taking your breath away with her lips slamming against yours.

The kiss wasn’t what you thought capable from the bookworm. Everything you knew about Lexi was innocence. That and the fact that after a long night of drinking, when Cassie left the room to grab more beer, Lexi had confessed that she was a virgin. Wanting your advice on what may get her past this stage in her life. But feeling this and experiencing it would’ve fooled you if you never were exposed to the vulnerability she had shown.

Lexi’s hands drifted down, moving just past the hem of your jeans and resting over the growing tent. A deep guttural moan was swallowed by the girl, who couldn’t contain the smirk that formed on her lips. The desperate need for air was slowly becoming faded with the need for something more grew.

But it was short-lived by a livid blonde who wasn’t afraid to shove Lexi away and sweep you away. Looking over your shoulder, you gave an apologetic smile to Lexi. She was still trying to recover from the intensity, face red and lips beginning to bruise. It was adorable.

And when you found yourself pushed against a door in a room with no lights on, you couldn’t help but smile in amusement. Finding the amount of anger written on Cassie’s face to be adorable coming from someone who had no right to be this angry.

“Hello, Cass,” you greeted smugly.

“What do you think you’re doing with my sister? Going to use her to get back at me?” Cassie spat.

“Well, it got us alone, didn’t it?” You inquired, making the girl hush. A sigh fell from your lips, shrugging. “We’re just getting to know each other a bit better, you know?”

“Don’t be a fucking asshole. You look like a little pussy doing this. You know that, right?” Cassie said. “I mean, you are acting like a child by trying to have sex with my sister after I broke up with you.”

You laughed, scratching your temple. “Please, remind me because my memory might be a little fuzzy. But who was the one that cheated?” You asked. “Oh, wait! That was you! Now I remember!”

“Dont be a child-”

Before she could finish, you grabbed the side of her neck firmly. Nothing that with substitute as aggressive. You didn’t squeeze. You didn’t pull. You simply grabbed it. But it didn’t seize to make Cassie grasp and whimper under your hold.

Leaning closer, you stared at her lips with an essence of hunger rumbling in your gut. “I never cheated on you,” you stated. “But God, do I wish I did. The embarrassment you would’ve felt.”

Cassie groaned, managing to meet your dark gaze. “What are you going to do about it then?”

A sickening sweet smile crossed your features before you pressed your lips against hers. And then, it felt like everything before. The kiss, the heat, the need for one another. It was manufactured, but you had missed it so damn much.

She fought against you. The urgency in her hands was evident with her fumbling with your belt. The rattling of the buckle and the groans of frustration with the button made you grin.

Taking the lead, you peeled her shirt off and snapped her bra. Revealing her bare chest as you moved her toward the bed, keeping your lips pressed against hers even when the back of her knees met the edge of the bed.

Peeling her panties off, you pulled your pants off before peppering her neck in kisses. Cassie’s nails dug into your back, a greater sense of urgency in her movements. She was completely putty within your hold and liked it that way.

And some part of you felt horrible doing what you were doing. This wasn’t just to get some sort of moment of euphoric galore. If you wanted that, you would’ve told Cassie to fuck off and just fucked Lexi. At least there, things may have worked out better. But this was a plan that you were making up on the fly. You were scheming to get back at your brother and Cassie.

Forcing her legs apart, you grabbed the base of your cock and lined it up with her fluttering cunt. Ever so slowly, you eased yourself in. A deep guttural groan is ripped from your chest. Cassie was a panting, writhing mess laid out just for you. Her hands grabbed handfuls of the bed sheets in an attempt to find some grounding aspect to the intensity filling the room.

Her breaths were hiccuped and choked out of her when you laid flush against her, hips raising to relieve her of the sense of fullness. But it was only a moment later that you slammed your hips against her, stealing the air from her lungs. Nails dug deeper into your skin until they drew blood, making the line between pain and pleasure blur. Mending together into some sick and twisted turn-on for you. And it sparked the aggression in your body.

And something in the air shifted the energy the two of you had. From pent-up and possible deprivation of one another was now an animalistic desire. Teeth baring, lips sucking, hands roaming and gripping as tight as possible. Sweaty bodies flush with choked moans filling the bedroom.

It was the source of why things ended so quickly. Cassie trembling beneath you and your cock twitching around the vice grip of her velvet walls. Sweeping a few strands of hair from your face, you placed a firm hand on her stomach and slowly pulled out. Hearing the girl whimper and whine. “Good girl.”

Cassie lay there, catching her breath as you disappeared from her vision. She could hear the scuffling of clothes until the weight beside her sunk with the sight of you pulling your jeans up. A wandering hand grabbed your arm. You looked back at her for a moment, but ripped her hand off of you, making her frown. “What’s wrong?” She mumbled, sitting up on her elbows.

“If you thought this was up making up for your idiocy, then you’re sadly mistaken, Cassie,” you stated. “I mean, I knew you were fucking clueless sometimes, but you are breaking the world record.”

The hurtful comments made Cassie purse her lips, looking away from you.

“Oh, and Cassie?” The blonde sniffled, turning her head and watching you stand from the edge of the bed and straighten your shirt out. A devilish grin etched on your lips as you shrugged. “You deserve to be lied to, but I’ll spare surprising you.” Placing your hands on the frame at the foot of the bed, you shook your head. “I cannot wait to see him tear you into pieces.”

[bamdelune]

utterly, unbelieveably in love pt. 1 ░ scara x reader modern!au ★ mini series

summary ➜ he has six months to win you over. the famed scaramouche of tevyat unviersity wants the honor of owning a place in your heart. you want to see how far his feelings hold true.

genres/tags ➜ fluff, scara is genuinely head over heels for you, fem!reader, scara is your brother's best friend, courting, new writing style.

Your brother bringing home friends from university wasn't a surprising occurence. He'd do it all the time. The only thing surprising was how a real human being could bear to even form a friendship to someone akin to a persistent little fly that buzzes in the shell of your ear.

This time, the person who welcomed himself through the entrance of your home was none other than the flamboyant Scaramouche. Academic by nature, with ladies and gentlemen swooning over him at every stride of his feet. Sure, a little too confident over the scale but still charming nonetheless. Your brother was on the popular side of the school tier, perhaps it was a matchmade in heaven.

"I'm home." He would say, after the lock clicks free. You were hunched over a laptop on the couch, with a screen that displayed two tabs as you accomplished your essay due in about... seven hours? A hum of acknowledgement slips past your lips, eyes still trained on the bright screen in front of you, too busy to even notice the fact that he brought a new friend today but it was a sight of familiar indigo streaks of hair.

For the next few times, Scaramouche would become a frequent visitor at your apartment and you had grown accustomed to the routine. You would be studying by the time the both of them get to the apartment, you'd acknowledge them, and Scaramouche would leave an hour and thirty minutes later. But today was a different case.

Your brother, being the trustful guy that he is, apparently gave Scara his key to the apartment telling him to go ahead and use it as he did some short errands.

Now here you were sitting in silence with the ever-charming boy from uni, with his eyes shooting glances he thought was subtle enough for you not to notice.

"You've been staring." You begin, your focus shifting from your laptop to his direction, although not directly into his eyes.

He hums, "I'd say the same about you."

Well, shit. Cover blown, does a life in the countryside tickle your fancy in any way?

Heat brushes your features but you are quick to school them.

"I'm curious as to how my brother thought this whole thing through."

Scara tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing in question. "Thought what through?"

"You. Giving you the actual key to our apartment. He's never done that so there's something different about you." Your eyes squint at him suspiciously, hands reaching for the top of your laptop and it shuts it closed. "Why are you here?"

"You're pretty cocky if you think I'm here for you." Scara blurts out in response. You raise an eyebrow at him.

"I never said that though?"

His face flushes a shade of pink and he takes a big interest in the crown moldings of your ceiling.

"You're weird." You mutter.

"Right back at you."

You scoff at his reply, albeit a small tug on your lips curls them upward. Just then the knob of the front door turns clockwise. You send Scara a 'you didn't lock the door?' type of look and he merely shrugs as your brother comes inside.

"I'm home— oh, you really did use the key." Your brother says, settling his belongings down on the marble counter. You swear you caught a small smirk playing on his lips but he was far too quick at concealing it.

From now onwards, Scaramouche would become a reoccuring character in your life. How long will it take for you to fall into the wraps of his charms?

[tteokdoroki]

vacationing with isagi while he’s abroad for a game or training is so <3

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff, semi-smut, minors dni 18+, characters aged up to 20s, vacationing, being spoiled woo, being picked up, wearing a bikini, possession, little bit of smut towards the end, pro player!isagi, fem!reader - not beta read !

like say you’re in Italy and he gets a few days off between matches so he has you flown out first class and as soon as possible. he lets you plan an itinerary of all the things you’ve ever wanted to do with the time you have — trying gelato, visiting historical monuments or scenic walks.

isagi packs a fanny pack of all of your essentials because he knows you have a tendency to forget things. lip balm, sanitiser, a spare sun hat and a stick of spf because all you have in your massive tote bag is gifts for all of his friends back home in the form of an assortment of key chains and fridge magnets. he dresses like a dad, bless his heart. in a bucket hat that matches the colour of your sun dress, shorts and a t-shirt you’ve chosen for him.

isagi tries not to let his hands wander on days where you lounge on the beach. you’ve asked him to put on your sunscreen, and he’s cheeky with it — massaging the cool liquid into the expanse of your skin, rubbing out the knots in your lower back and shoulders so that you let out adorable squeaks and moans.

“do you need me to go lower?” yoichi will groan into the shell of your ear once his calloused hands reach the base of your spine, teasing you from over your cute little bikini bottoms.

you reach back to shove him off with an angelic smile and devilish eyes to match. “later, yoichi.”

he’ll let you drag him over the sandy shoreline and straight to the enticing blue of the ocean that rivals his eyes — glaring at anyone who dares to look your way. it’s a little stupid, he wants you all to himself, doesn’t want anyone to get to take in your beauty, your lucious figure, your dazzling expression the way he does. isagi nearly bites the head off of the poor guy who makes the mistake of glancing your way when you dip your toes into the water and your chest jiggles a little (you bounce away from its coldness).

isagi who has to lift you into his arms, your legs wrapped around his unfairly slender waist, to actually get you into the water. despite how pretty it looks, the sea is cold and you grip onto the pro player for dear life the further he walks away from dry land. he’s in waist deep, calm waves lapping at his slightly tanned skin and abs, when isagi kisses you slowly and drags out your bottom lip to distract you from the mere fact that he plans to dunk you in the water.

he forgets your arms around his neck as you drag him beneath the aquamarine surface with you — a melody of both of your giggles tangling with the salty sea air.

isagi orders you as many dishes, from each restaurant you stop at, as you want — happily spooning a portion of his risotto into your open mouth because you’d forgotten to order it for yourself and grinning when you kick your feet out in a happy dance. he thinks you’re so cute.

and later, on your last night, isagi makes love to you against rose petal sheets that he’d requested from the hotel staff. his tongue rolls over yours and his hips pin you to the bed and you can’t escape because he barely gives you the room to breathe while pouring all of his love into you. it’s overwhelming, crushed by the weight of him while pounds you to high heavens and you can’t help but cry because tomorrow isagi will belong to Japan, belong to the world and it won’t just be you two lovers exploring cobblestone streets and fruit markets anymore.

“you don’t need to think about that right now,” isagi mouths the words against your neck sloppily, his hands reaching between your intertwined and sweaty bodies to thumb at your clit. “s’just you ‘n me, precious. ‘n when this is all over, i’ll take you to another city. another place a-and i’ll fall in love with you again.” he somehow manages to hiccup between slow grinds and lewd squelches.

and you believe him, because no matter where soccer takes yoichi, your heart will always follow.

[gaywarcriminals]

Shen Jiu is an Abusive Mother

Yeah this is my Mother's Day post <3 This is just for funsies, and I by no mean think its the best lens through which to see SJ and LBH's relationship— its just a comparison I find interesting, and I was feeling festive 🥰.

To start, none of this is to say that SJ is a feminine character. I don't believe that, and I think that he's often misinterpreted as more feminine by western fans due to differences in gender norms/gender roles (which is a Whole Other Coversation). Maternal/mommy are being used loosely here.

Secondly, I don't think we'd even be looking at SJ through a maternal framework if the man who took over his body wasn't Shen "I would never abort you" Yuan. SJ is mostly pulled into this because he exist in juxtaposition to Mr. Freud's Wet Dream (go read tshirt's SVSSS Freud zine btw, several points here are inspired by it).

The fact remains, though, that even without Wifebeam Supreme playing the part, there is something distinctly parental about the role of Shizun. Shizuns cannot be compared to teachers or tutors, who the child either go to visit durning the day, or who come to the child's home when it's time for lessons. Even with the respect due to them, a teacher remains distinct from a child's home and family. They do not overly incorporate themselves into these things that define a child's life. 

Shizuns are a little different. There is, ofc, lots of variation within the xianxia and wuxia genres, but in most of the stories I've encountered— and more importantly for our purposes, in SVSSS itself— unless the child’s family home is their sect, when a child is accepted as a disciple, they're expected to join their shizun/shifu either in the master's home/sect, or in free-roaming travel. In both cases, the shizun's home becomes the disciple's home, and their shizun becomes the main adult responsible for the child. The master will take over in guiding the child's development from here, shaping them by their hand. Is that not a parent? I think some such imprinting is inevitable, even among more well-adjusted disciples. Do you know who's not well-adjusted?

Luo Binghe enters the sect soon after the death of his mother. There is a mommy shaped hole in his heart. Though absolutely nothing could replace her, he's a sad, lost, and angry child, coming to a mountain of immortal masters, desperately hoping for one of them to take him as their own. As much as he's motivated by fulfilling his mother's wishes, isn't he also looking for a place to belong in this world, now that the hut that he once called home is ruined by his mother's absence? Doesn't he hope, if only for a short time, that someone else will see fit to care for him? As much as Luo Binghe is already hurt and hardened in many ways, he's still just a child; he's not yet blackened beyond dreaming of someone to love him.

Shen Jiu is very much Not That. Shen Jiu is not a merely a lofty immortal ambivalent to his disciple’s emotional needs. No, Shen Jiu hates Luo Binghe enough to unfairly punish and ostracize him, and even puts him in deadly harm's way twice before just outright trying to kill him (the manual, the demon invasion, the abyss). Going by the framework of SQQ as a parental figure, he's undeniably an abusive one. In what way could this be said to be maternal, though? In my eyes, it comes down to motive.

Shen Jiu has a lot of motivations for abusing Binghe, mostly coming down to the fact that's he's more trauma response than man at this point, but one of these is more explicitly outlined in the text than the others: Shen Qingqiu saw three things on the original flavor’s face: envy, envy, and more envy. Envy that Luo Binghe had a mother who was “the kindest in all the world to him,” envy of Luo Binghe’s talent, envy that Luo Binghe would enter Cang Qiong Mountain Sect at the best age for cultivating. He was indeed the kind of person to brim with envy and resentment toward a young child.

Envy and jealously, at least in the western canon, are usually associated with female characters (and though it’s outside the scope of this post to dissect, let it not go unremarked that this trope is deeply misogynistic in origin). They are almost always envious of a younger, more beautiful, and/or more skillful woman, who are posed at the moral superior to the jealous woman. That's right, Shen Jiu is an evil stepmother! He tolerates having no superior or equal on his peak, needing his power and superiority to go unquestioned. Outside of his abuse of Binghe, and the references early in the novel to SJ chasing away talented disciples, I think this is also shown by how the male disciple SJ tolerates the most is Ming Fan, who has only middling talent and is obsequious before his shifu, never challenging SJ in any way, and never threatening to surpass him.

But of course, SJ’s relationship to Binghe is the most obvious example. Shen Jiu sees himself in Luo Binghe (derogatory). He sees Luo Binghe as a symbol of everything he never had. Luo Binghe is a creature like himself that, for no rhythm or reason, was given so much more than SJ. It is also notable that, at least as far as Shen Qingqiu, as an outside observer, can tell, the thing which first sparked SJ's ire was the mention of LBH's mother. Never mind that LBH says in the same breath that she's dead; the fact that when she lived, she was a kind and loving mother to LBH is enough for SJ to envy him, and as he finds more to envy, it comes justification to hate the boy, and to punish him for daring to have someone who died loving him. 

(Side note: after consulting the qijiu server about the implications of SJ’s reaction, my reading is that SJ never knew his mother. The only alternative is that she was a bad mother, but I don't think he would find such unilateral comfort in women if that was the case. It's made me wonder if SJ ever believed that having a mother, a protector, would have spared him his fate. But alas, this post is not about SJ's mommy issues. Another day!)

Even outside the realm of cartoonish villains, I think this particular brand of envy is, in some ways, associate with motherhood. There's a natural tendency in parents to see themselves in their children, but as mothers are almost always the ones more involved in raising children and more expected to foster emotional connections with their children, I think this is both more common and more encouraged in mothers than fathers. Mothers are expected to be in charge of and over-involved in most aspects of a child's life, and in turn their lives are expected to revolve around their children, blurring the boarder between the self and the child. The child becomes symbolic of the mother's past self and what she can no longer be. The expectations on the child are the expectations of the mother's idealized self, and whether the child meets them or not, the mother will resent them for it, for daring to fail when they are her, or daring to succeed when they are not.

That's not to say SJ ever had such deep identification with LBH— he certainly never cared for LBH, and if anything, he's more like a mother who resents her child being born (as though he did not pick this boy out of the dirt himself)— but the hatred for a child under his care being like him but supposedly better off feels evocative of this characteristically maternal form of envy.

And finally, there is the fruit of SJ's actions, and the most explicitly/textually maternal aspect of SJ's abuse: it created Luo Bingge.

“Has Shidi ever considered that, if you hadn’t treated Luo Binghe like that in the beginning, everything that unfolded today never would have happened?”

He had singlehandedly created the Luo Binghe of today,

Luo Bingge, the all-powerful demon, the ruler of the three realms, and Shen Jiu's own personal torturer, would never have existed without SJ's intervention. Luo Bingge is shaped in Shen Jiu's image, and everything Shen Jiu ever did to destroy the boy only twisted him to further fit this mold. Luo Bingge's fate, the shape of his very soul, have been defined by SJ. And what is more maternal than giving someone their life defining trauma? 

[seneon]

ESCORT ──── shinji hirako x fem! reader. ib chase atlantic's escort. fluff + mentions of alcohol. wc of 600+

thinking about captain shinji hirako who would most definitely bribe or pay or do whatever it takes just to have you in the fifth division. he'd be so desperate about it, even go on his knees just to recruit you into the squad that he takes charge of. and for what reason?

the mere sole reason that you miraculously stole the heart of the captain while he came down to shin’o academy to demonstrate kenjutsu for the students. you just so happened to be one of the students that the hirako had to personally teach.

as beautiful as you can be and as bright your smile can shine, it only took a few hours for the blond-haired male to fall under your spell. but you never even put a spell on him in the first place. all you did was breathe, exist, and learn as shinji teaches.

as pathetic as the man can be, he doesn't ever show it. in fact, he does the opposite. he'd go all “oh look. it's the student girl whom i taught that sucks at swordsmanship.” like bro you did not just get on your knees to beg yamamoto to put the ‘student girl’ in your division…

he wants you to work for him and be under his wing, so he watch whatever you do. even better if he's seeing you make such a drastic change and progress ever since your academy days. not that he's a weirdo captain or anything that fancies a student of his, but your ages weren't that much of a difference. in fact, shinji is the one who ended up becoming a captain at such a young and admirable age.

“i can give you love for free, y/n…” shinji said during one messy night where the word sober left his vocabulary. all on his mind are fuzzy images of you.

“trust me, sir, she'd appreciate your love one hundred percent,” a voice said as they took away the bottle of sake in their captain's hands. the man simply looked up at the figure and looked back down, snuggling his drunken face into his arms. “you're kinda... pretty.. not any more beautiful than y/n though.”

“woah sir, thanks for the compliment. i honestly agree too, she's very cute, captain.”

the hirako glared at his subordinate who's helping him get up from the table so he can finally leave the pub with some guidance from someone of his barracks. “you keep her name outta your mouth, pink!”

“it's punk, sir. not pink.”

“shut up. only y/n can tell me what's right or wrong,” shinji's head wobbled just as his division member sighed and draped his long arms around their shoulders. they were oddly smaller than the fifth division captain.

“come on, captain. time to go home. y/n wishes that you return home safely.”

the voice of his subordinate is gentle and soft, so similar to his crush’s voice. he couldn't even tell what is going on right now, but he just lets his subordinate escort him home, not really in the correct state to think of anything else. although, his squad member uttering the name y/n made him all sweets and butterflies on the inside.

after such a night, the man wakes up in a frenzy, struggling to remember whatever happened last night and however in the world he ends up in his soft comfy futon without ever remembering how he got back into his bed.

he stares at a bone china vase for a few good minutes, attempting to search and dig for anything that has been buried by the headache that he currently has. but the more he stared at the reflection of the vase, the more he caught something at the corner of his eyes.

shinji shot his head at the few bags of items that laid beside his futon, a note of instructions on the items written down. he knows this writing. he out of anyone would've recognised this immediately. it belonged to you.

then a flash of memories became visible in his vision.

“THAT WAS Y/N?!?!?”

note. requested by @imaginingbleach. tumblr murdered me on the inside when i lost your request ask... i'll write an aizen piece soon trust

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[miss-hyoko]

HIIIII !!! can i please have a "babysitting cheka" klepon with bae leona <3 i can totally imagine leona sees him as a little competitor for our attention, like he would sulk when he sees us cuddle-napping with cheka <333 have a great day kakk!!

"Thank you for your patience, dear customer. Here's your food, [Babysitting Cheka] klepon. I hope the food is to your liking."

Babysitting Cheka

Character(s): Leona

Summary: Leona's not very happy you pay too much attention to Cheka

Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!reader, fluff, romantic, reader is NOT Yuu, Cheka makes a cameo, jealous protective Leona

Note: Hope you don't mind that I changed the ask a bit to add more DRAMA make it even better for y'all Leona's simp😌👉👈

Most students would say that the most dreadful days are exam week, but for Leona, the holiday season is the real hell.

Holidays are fun, he admits that, but Leona couldn't really enjoy it because he had to go back to the palace, his so-called 'home' where many people didn't truly welcome his return.

Fortunately, this holiday, you will also come back with him as his fiancé(e). As long as you're by his side, that damned place he called 'home' would become less unbearable.

… or at least, that's what he thought.

***

Normally, Leona would be fast asleep in mere seconds. But after a few minutes lying down with his eyes closed, he still couldn't fall asleep. Forget sleeping, he just got even more irritated as time went on.

And it's all because of you. More precisely, it's because the child who's currently playing with you, taking all your attention that should belong to Leona. His nephew, Cheka Kingscholar.

How can Leona fall asleep when you, his favorite pillow, are spending time with that brat instead of accompanying him to sleep?

Also, why did you two choose to play in his room when the palace has a perfectly able courtyard?!

Leona's patience finally ran out when he realized that his scent that he had left on you was starting to be covered with Cheka's own scent.

“Oi, brat! Let go of my fiancé(e) and go play by yourself.” Leona got up from his bed then approached you and Cheka who were playing some kind of board game.

“Ah, Unca! Do you want to play with us?” The boy beside you waved his hands excitedly, inviting his uncle with eyes full of hope.

Leona only gave a light snort, neither rejecting nor agreeing to his nephew's request. Instead, he looks straight at you.

“Herbivore, I'm sleepy,” he tells you matter of fact, signaling that he wants you to accompany him to sleep.

Before you could reply to him, Cheka threw himself at you and hugged you tightly, preventing you from moving any further.

“No!” He half yelled, looking at Leona with puffed cheeks, “Unca can sleep alone! I still want to play with unca/aunt (Name)!”

A frown appeared on Leona's forehead when he heard his nephew's words. Nevertheless, he still tried to control his emotions in front of Cheka who's blatantly trying to take you away from him.

“Brat, in case you forget, the herbivore is MY fiancé(e). Not yours. They had NO obligation to keep you company or play with you.”

“It's because unca didn't want to play with me, so I'll play with unca/aunt (Name) instead.” Cheka replied, hugging you even tighter.

“Oh, so now it's my fault?”

The uncle-nephew pair start debating about who's going to spend time with you.

You can't help but find the situation a little amusing. Especially, when you see Leona's annoyed face facing Cheka's pouty one.

Even though you want to enjoy their childish fight a little longer, you know you can't let this continue.

“Oh my, look at the time now~ it's the time for little ones to take a nap,” you said in a sing-song voice, slowly carrying Cheka on your hip.

Seeing you take his side, the frown on Leona's face lessened a bit and he looked haughtily at Cheka while crossing his arms.

“You hear that, brat? It's nap time. Go back to your room and take your damn nap. Don't disturb us again.”

Cheka who was in your arms suddenly became dispirited. His eyes started to get teary and his lips trembled ever so slightly.

That made Leona smile even wider, feeling very proud of his victory. When he tried to gloat again, he heard you continue talking.

“That being said, why don't we take a nap together with your uncle?”

“Hah?!”

“Yay!"

Hearing your suggestion, both of them immediately gave two different responses. Leona was dumbfounded, meanwhile Cheka became excited.

Although Leona was very dissatisfied with your stupid idea, he really couldn't say no to you. Hence, he finally compromised and lets Cheka sleep with the two of you.

The three of you take a nap together in Leona's room. You sleep in between the two lions, Cheka in the front while Leona is behind you. In the middle of your sleep, Leona instinctively wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face against your shoulder. Unbeknownst to you, Leona quietly got rid of Cheka's scent that had clung to you using his own scent.

Only after you're covered once again with his scent did Leona stop his action, smile satisfyingly, and go back to sleep.

[specialagentlokitty]

10th doctor x reader - made that mistake once

One of the things the doctor couldn’t do was travel back in his own timeline, he couldn’t backtrack in himself no matter how much he wished he could right now.

His hearts broke as he turned around and walked away from you crying and screaming and begging for him to stay, to not leave you behind.

But it was for the best.

That’s what he told himself anyway, to try make this easier, but it wasn’t, it was impossibly be hard for him to do.

Even when he regenerated, becoming a new man, his hearts still ached at the mere through of you, the reminders of you posted all over the place.

Your favourite smell, colour, food, weather.

Everything was a reminder of you.

God how much the doctor wanted to change time, but as he looked at you from across the street smiling from ear to ear with your friends, he knew he made the right choice.

You wouldn’t recognise him in this face, wearing a suit and a trench coat.

No, your doctor was a leather jacket and warm jumpers you would constantly steal when he changed them.

He wouldn’t recognise him, of course your wouldn’t.

It why when he kept bumping into you by ‘accident’ you never spared him a second glance.

But seeing you so happy without him?

That was enough to destroy the doctor, the man who had made whole armies turn around and run away from him, who had walked through fire and floods without a scratch.

This is what broke him the most.

It why he thought he could get away with sitting at the bar you worked at, thinking you wouldn’t think twice when you handed him his drink.

You went back to pouring drinks, but you did briefly glance at him a few times, sometimes leaning against the wall as you cleaned some glasses.

“Thank you.” He smiled.

You nodded your head and watched him get up, he began to make his way towards the door.

“You’ve changed.” You spoke gently.

The doctor froze a little, and he slowly turned around to find you smiling to yourself as you set some glass back where they belonged.

“You suck at this whole staying away think doctor man.”

“Y.. you know…?”

You glanced at your watch.

“Meet me tomorrow, at our spot. I’ll be there around lunch time.”

With that you went back work and he went back to the TARDIS.

He didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t want to drag you into this life again, but he wasn’t sure if he had it in him to walk away from you again.

Either way you’d find him eventually, you always would, when you put your mind to something you could do whatever you wanted to do.

So, he went to your spot, and he sat under the tree as he waited.

“You’ve been following me.”

The doctor jumped a little, and he looked around, then he looked around the tree and you pushed his face away.

“No, stay there.”

“How did you know?” He asked.

You smiled to yourself, resting your head against the bark of the tree, and he did the exact same thing.

“I’d recognise those eyes anywhere doctor, even if they’ve changed to. Behind that soft hue of brown, there’s a spark of intelligence that no one else has, only you. They look at me so softly, so gently, just like the blue ones before.”

The doctor smiled a little more.

“How’d you know id come here?”

“You’ve been following me for weeks, I assumed it would only be time before you came up to me.”

“You always were clever…” he whispered.

You laughed softly, music to his ears.

He’d missed that laugh so much, the laugh that could brighten his day no matter how dark and hopeless it seemed.

“Why did you come back doctor?”

He took a deep breath, and he got up, walked around the tree, he sat in front of you, crossing his legs.

“I wish I could go back in time and change that fact I left you behind. I thought it was right, and then I regenerated, and all that heartache from leaving you stayed..” he whispered.

“You made that choice doctor, not me. I begged for you to stay.”

“I know! I know…”

He took a deep breath and looked up at you with sad brown eyes.

“I should never have walked away… I should’ve walked you home.. I should’ve kissed you a thousand times… told you I loved you again and again… but I.. I’ll live much longer than you, and I wanted you to live a good human life…”

You smiled softly.

“You want to know something doctor?”

He nodded his head.

“I couldn’t care less if you look young while I’m old, I couldn’t care less if I could never stay with you for the rest of your life, wanna know why?”

He nodded again.

“Because I’ll find you in every lifetime. And I’ll love you all the same it’s as simple as that. You can leave me behind, but I won’t move on, you’re the only person I can love.”

“But I can’t give you the life you deserve…”

“You can give me the life I want doctor. I want to travel with you, to be with you. I don’t care if you’re some weird man from mars.”

“I’m.. im not.. we’ve been through this I’m not from mars.”

You grinned a little bit.

“I don’t care what you think doctor, I’m going to sit and wait for you even when I’m old and grey.”

“Why…? Why can’t you have a normal life here…?”

You leant forward, and you looked at him deeply, eyes boring into his so much that all he could do was stare right back.

“Because I love you stupid doctor man.”

“Would you travel with me until you’re old and grey..?”

“I’d travel with you until my dying breath.”

“Let’s not go that far.”

You laughed and the doctor quickly pulled you into his arms, throwing himself back on the grass with you resting on his chest.

He grinned from ear to ear, hearts racing with the pure happiness and love that he was feeling right now.

You smiled, resting a hand on his chest, and you moved yourself off him.

You stood up and he did the same, and he looked down at you, your (E/C) eyes peering up at his brown ones.

You reached up, placing your hand on the side of his face, running your thumb along his skin and he smiled softly, leaning into your touch.

“You’re still just as handsome to me..”

“Well…” he mumbled shyly.

You smiled a little more, knowing only you had that effect on the doctor.

For everyone else he had a huge ego, his ego alone could fuel planets and rockets, but when it came to you, the doctor was a big, blabbering, mumbling, shy mess.

You had that effect on him.

All his charm and charisma all melted away when it came to you, you made him a big puddle of mush, breaking down his walls with ease.

You could make him stutter, look away in embarrassment, make his hearts race like never before, and all you had to do was look at him.

He was madly in love with you, and he knew it.

You moved your hand up to run it through his hair, and then back to his face.

“I’ve always been ever bound to those eyes doctor.. blue… green… grey.. brown… I’d always recognise them. But I do love you with soft brown eyes…”

You leant up, gently ghosting your lips over his before you pulled away.

The doctor was frozen in spot and you grinned a little bit, stepping back with your hands clasped behind your back.

“Your choice love, but either way, I’m only every going to be in love with you.”

With that you began to walk away, and he was quick to snap back out of his mind and he ran after you, his hand slipping into yours and you smiled to yourself.

You looked up at him to find him grinning from ear to ear, and you wrapped your hand around his.

He glanced down at you.

“I’m not making the same mistake twice.” He said

[lets-try-some-writing]

Wait... Soundwave wants to turn the human kiddos into cassettes? How does that go? Does it work?

I have been sitting on this idea for a while now and I hate that it took me literally two months to formulate a response, but here it is-

Previous part here.

═════════════════

The humans belonged to him. He found them, he tended to them, and he learned who they were more than anyone else ever bothered to. The three human sparklings, his perfect cassettes... they were soft, weak, damageable, and likely to perish in but the passing of a cycle in his mind's eye. He refused to allow that, not after he finally found little ones in need of aid who could be his new cassettes.

The Autobots claimed the children as theirs, but the simple fact that they came back to him when they wanted affection told Soundwave all he needed to know. There was no need for him to abandon Megatron or join the Autobots to keep his precious cassettes. All he needed to do was make his cassettes strong enough to endure being handled like Cybertronian cassettes and all would be well. He could take them back to the Nemesis and they would adapt with time. Emotions like anger and sorrow would pass under his dutiful care. There was no need for concern, he just needed to play his cards right until he had what he needed.

Soundwave has always been quiet in his work, thus it was not difficult to begin formulating plans. Rafael was the easiest to begin with, largely due to the fact that he already had unique abilities. It was not hard to leave a simple hologram dummy in place of Rafael and take the child to Shockwave. Singing to Rafael and injecting him with mild sedatives kept him from waking as he was placed onto an operating table and Shockwave was allowed to begin his work. It was a simple process, a small implant in the child's head around his growth glands that would slowly begin turning the child's cells into something more Cybertronian in nature and allow for energon to begin being integrated into the body. Then beyond the tiny implant that would fly under human scans were tiny implants in the spine that would with time, change to allow plating to start to develop once the child's body was strong enough and at least more than 60% non organic.

Rafael didn't even know he'd been altered and was returned home without issue. Shockwave was happy to do the work for scientific purposes and Megatron was merely tolerating the situation since it ensured Soundwave would remain loyal. All was well, and while it was most certainly harder to worm his way into collecting Miko and Jack undetected, he managed to get them the correct implants too without their knowledge. The Autobots suspected nothing and allowed Soundwave to roam as he pleased. Out of pure caution he never revealed their whereabouts or knowledge to Megatron, he couldn't risk losing his cassettes before they were ready. Besides, the Autobots were decent caretakers while Soundwave was away working.

Thus with the implants ready, Soundwave began the second phase without issue. He prepared his little cassettes food and laced it with just enough energon to be of use. He did this every. single. day. for months until at last he started getting results.

The children began getting aches and pains, all of them not wanting to move around much and rather preferring to stay still or with Soundwave. Their food choices differed and they started only wanting what Soundwave prepared to the point of concerning the Autobots. The children began getting tired, sleeping more and moving less while also seeing and hearing more than they should be able to. Even still, they weren't strong enough, so Soundwave waited and waited until at last he had his sign.

Hair began to stiffen and turn to metal, soft flesh hardened, and bones grew sturdier. Bit by bit the children found metal in their frames, growing and changing them to match Cybertronians in some peculiar way. However Soundwave did not snatch them up until Rafael showed the first signs of plating growth when he ran his hands through his hair and small metal plates shined where Soundwave could see. He needed no other reason to wait, and thus too the children swiftly as he had so many months prior. The Autobots should have been more careful. Did they not fear one who was once a servant of the council and a gladiator in the pits?

[coffeefiction]

Love Binds Part 4 ( Wally Darling x Reader)

Here's part 4! Sorry it took a while I have been busy and I just recently got back from a trip!

Hope you guys enjoy!!

"I'm going to go follow them," Wally stated unexpectedly while in conversation with Veronica. When the woman looks up at the moppet, who is already standing, her gaze is filled with confusion. "What?" she asks, puzzled, hoping Wally would clarify.

"I'm going to go follow them," he stated again, as Veronica drank her tea, she asked, "Who?" With reluctance in his voice, he answered, "You know...them?...(Y/N)?" "Are you sure about that?" she asks, only to receive a nod in return. She glanced at Wally, puzzled, before asking, "Why?- Hold on, do you even know where they are?" He hesitated but answered, "I-I think?"

Veronica merely sighs and grins at Wally. "Alright, I'll go with you," she said as she rose up. Wally stares at the woman, perplexed. "What? - Why?" Wally asks, Veronica laughs slightly. "To help you look for them, silly! After all, you do have a bit of a track record of getting confused with the roads," she said, which was true; Wally has a track record of being confused.

"Now wait here; I'm going to go get my stuff; I doubt this will be a short trip," she remarked, prompting Wally to turn away sheepishly. Veronica merely smiles and embraces him firmly before letting go to go home to retrieve some of her belongings.

Wally sighed as he approached his bag in his room. As he entered, he saw a piece of jewelry. He studied it after taking it up: it's a thin chain that extends to the bottom of the sternum that is attached to a little, medium-gold spiral. To put it bluntly, the necklace looks great. Despite the fact that he has no recollection of it being there or having such a thing in the first place. Nonetheless, it looks great, and something in him tells him to wear it, so he does.

The necklace fits him wonderfully in the mirror! It complements his blue sweater vest quite nicely. He fixes his hair; he had it down for who knows how long, and he desperately wants his beloved pompadour back. He knows you wouldn't appreciate seeing him in such a state. Looking like a mess and all.

Grabbing the hairbrush, he began brushing and combing his hair carefully. He picked up his hairspray and began to apply it to his hair. When he inhales the spray, he coughs slightly, but when he looks in the mirror, he thinks he looks okay. He was going to reach for something when he spotted something in the mirror. He stares closely at his reflection, searching for what he saw, though it must have been a trick of the light. But he was certain he saw something in his eyes; perhaps he was imagining.

He collects his stuff and heads downstairs, where he sees Veronica, who appears to be in good spirits. "All set!" she informs Wally. He nodded, and they both walked out, shutting the door behind them. Both talking to one another as they made their way to the car. "I'm a little excited for this trip" Veronica express and Wally smiles, happy to see that his friend is joyful about leaving the neighborhood. " We should stop by at some places to get snacks though," she said, Wally hums and agreed, thinking it might be the best to do so as he's not sure how far away you are, only that he knows where it is and something is nudging him to go there.

They climbed inside the car, putting their belongings in the back seat. "Ready?" Veronica questioned, and he nodded. "Ready,". He starts the car and drove away. The area appeared somewhat foggy, but that may have been due to last night's rain. "It sure is foggy today," he commented, and the woman next to him agreed. "Maybe it's from the rain yesterday," she said, and he nodded. Veronica even believes it's due to the rain.

"Say, shouldn't we tell the others we're leaving?" Veronica questioned, peering out the window to view the misty surroundings. Wally merely drove on. "No, I don't think so; I think I know where they would be, probably a couple of hours from here," he responded, unsure of the distance. 

"But what if they get worried?" Veronica wondered. Wally pauses and responds, "They wouldn't; the drive isn't that far." With uncertainty(?) in her voice, she adds, "Are you sure?" "I think.". He notices her open her mouth to say something, only to have her lips close. They pass the trees that surround the neighborhood, now driving on a highway.

"What if Y/N gets upset? I mean, we're just randomly showing up at their house!" Veronica pointed out after a few minutes of driving. This caused Wally to abruptly halt and slam the brakes on their car. "Jesus!-W̷̨̻͊͘a̶̞̹͂l̴͈̩̆s̴̟̄!-Hey...are you ok?" Veronica ask, worried.  "You're right, w-we....we can't just show up there all of a sudden...." he said sadly, looking down and gripping the stirring wheel tightly, cursing himself for being so stupid. "Maybe we should turn back?" she stated, maybe she's right; maybe they should just turn back and forget about this trip ever existing. Maybe he's just spiraling down and he needs to lie down-No! Wally shook his head.

"No, if they get mad then so be it, neighbor, I...I want to apologize to them for being such a bad friend. It had always been me and them ever since we moved to the same neighborhood. I miss them and I want their company back....and if not, then at least apologizing to them might put me at ease." He said, "And even if they get upset, it's fine! I'll take it all just for them!" Wally is being stupid; he should know that he is.

"You're a stubborn man" she huffs and crosses her arm, Wally chuckles "I-I know, they influence me to be one, I think" he stated. "Are you sure about this?" she questioned, and he nodded, despite the fact that he shouldn't. "If we stop at a gas station, I'll call Barnaby just in case," Veronica added, and Wally had to ponder for a moment about who Barnaby was. He feels stupid for forgetting his nice gray—wait, blue—neighbor. Barnaby was blue. "Are you alright?" Veronica asked, he sighed and replied. "Yeah, don't worry, neighbor," reassuring her.

For a moment, they were followed by silence. Veronica would gaze at Wally, seeing his face shifts into a specific expression, till she eventually questioned, "What's wrong?" Wally simply shrugs and drives on, as if the question does not exist. "Wally, what's wrong?" she questioned once again. "Nothing's wrong, neighbor," he uttered, a little aggressively. "Clearly, there is one; you're making that face when there's something wrong," she pointed out. For a brief period, the two sat in silence again until Wally expressed. "I thought Barnaby was gray; I kind of feel stupid that I thought he was gray," 

 "If it makes you feel any better, I thought Barnaby was yellow, like the necklace I gave you." It didn't.

Wally hums and continues to drive. "Wait, you gave me this?" he asks, motioning to his necklace. "Why yes! I gave it to you before I left, didn't I?" she says, prompting Wally to pause. "I guess...I was sure I found it in my room," he trailed off. "No, I gave it to you; you're just confused as usual," she responded, and Wally sighed. Perhaps she's correct; maybe he's getting things mixed up.

Wally pulled off at a gas station after two hours of traveling. He and Veronica exited the car, with Veronica heading into the convenience store to buy something and maybe phone Barnaby to notify him of their unexpected disappearance. Wally glances around and notices that everything appears to be quiet and foggy. Granted, it had been foggy beforehand, but the fog is more evident, reminding him of loneliness in some ways. (You are alone in this world, there is no one to rely on except the fog that helps dull all the sorrow and despair that exists within oneself, where it is possible to die alone, where it is possible to die alone, where it is possible to die alone, where it is possible to-).

"Wals?" He snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing your voice. Turning around to look, he only saw Veronica. "Are you ready to go?" she asked ever so kindly, and he nodded. Gods, he felt dumb for assuming it was you; he was convinced it was you who had uttered his name. Is he imagining things? Is he confusing Veronica and you? He hopes not; it would be impolite to mistake something for someone who isn't present. "Yeah, let's go," Wally said, getting into the car, fastening his seatbelt, and starting the engine. "Say, neighbor," he trailed off, "did you inform Barnaby about us leaving?" Veronica nodded, saying she had, and Barnaby had said good luck and he'd tell the others. Wally smiled at that and kept driving while the fog slowly engulfed the station, obscuring it from their sight.

tags: @venus-rome @wowzerswithmorewows @curiosityscrewedthatcat @mythjustiice @smilesdarling @mortallypleasantzombie @thecastanova

[ladythot]

How about I make a Yandere request for you?

Give me a delusional Yandere Katsumi. The kind where he truly believes every interaction y/n makes with him is a declaration of their love for him? And he collects items they drop and makes a shrine

Ooo...this idea, very good 👁️👁️

Tw: unhealthy obsession, possessiveness, coercion, groping, master/pupil dynamic, long-looooong talk below

Yandere katsumi who would pursue you in martial arts with him, while quite literally, sickly obsessed with your physique. You wouldn't say much to his offer but the way he maneuvered you into joining him was enough to captivate your idea of winging something new. He's the scuttlebutt of being the goody teacher he is with many capabilities after all, many say that—but for you, you'd call quits on the hectic 'exercises' he would prepare for you at the end of the day.

The schedule he gave was a bit odd, you'll give him that. You'd come more later than the rest of his pupils and specifically entering between afternoon or evening where the place is all yours. No one, nobody, not a single bead of forehead sweat can be seen besides yours, just the two of you sparring and rehearsing in a neat room til you're sweating like a wet dog. He'd even offer you some tea or cold water which you didn't find anything short of just genuine care he's showing—but when he starts to make up more availability of time for you to relax unlike the strict teacher you heard the scuttlebutts of, this raises your dim of unresolved misconception about him.

You were aware of the special treatment he gives off but against all odds, have the students even heard of you? You were never introduced to any of his pupils, never once nor twice—not a single new face did you meet or talk to throughout the ordeal other than him. And just him. You shrug it off regardless—you would suppose all he wanted was to keep a good impression from you in prospect of his students embarrassing him infront of a newbie, but that is just an idea.

Katsumi finds your body anything to write home about. He simply found his reason from this to a sickening obsession. Prior to that, you were just someone he knew nothing of than the mere fact your presence was just something else entirely to him that elbowed him into curiosity.

What does it feel when a girl calls him master and to be the one ahead of her? To be the one pushing her limits in splits and stretches to the point of whining from sheer pain? How many more stretch marks can he give her from excessive practices?

The marks, the bruises, the whines, the sweat and tears are pieces of a spitting image of being claimed in bed. It was like his dupe image of you after being fucked. Your huffs of air when you're tired, your flushed cheeks from letting him guide and hold your body in different positions as you whine from the exertion, the beads of sweat that drips off of your face and neck, the patent effort you put into invigorating your limbs, has nothing more to prove that he wanted nothing else but to see the same scenery in bed.

This places him under an obsession no one takes good care of, he could only use the partial evidents of how your body feels like when he would help you lift a leg up to get as much as anything to fantasize about. He'll let you take his towel to wipe your sweat off, only for him to keep it in a drawer filled with small trinkets you left behind while you were too tired to remember anything you wore or brought. Everything that belonged to you in which you'd long forgotten are now a property of his to remember.

[takami-rising]

tempore pluvarium: part i ☀︎

tempore pluvarium

➳ at the time of the rains

character: rengoku kyojuro x reader notes: aah so this is my first proper fic, i poured my heart soul into this i really hope you'll like it!! part ii is in the works, i promise it will have more plot genre: fluff with sugar on top and a speck of angst warnings: canon typical violence, but nothing too graphic ambience: rain (yt) | music (spotify) (play simultaneously for the ultimate reading experience) preview: You’re beautiful. He’s always thought so, that you belong there, amongst blossoming trees and their dew dropped leaves, harmonizing with the gentle breeze. The rising sun tries to compete with the tranquil your presence brings, but ultimately it fails.

Rain pours horribly that afternoon when Kyojuro finds you scurrying down the main street, geta grinding against soaked gravel, dirt staining the pristine white of your tabi. The sight is quite endearing, so out of your perceived character to have put yourself in this rather reckless predicament. A side of you he has not witnessed much of. The downpour is unforgiving, your lovely silk komon sure to be ruined at this rate, no matter how the magenta lilac littered across the fabric seem to bloom in color by the skies' gift.

You nearly trip and fall when the wet drops no longer stain your skin with their awful cold and you look up to find the man smiling down at you from under his haori held high. His eyes flicker like fires in the night, even in this dreadful weather, the orange glow showering you with an illusion of warmth. Or perhaps this sensation is merely an afterthought of how your pulse suddenly gallops.

Still, you utter his name with thankful relief. "Rengoku-san..."

The aroma of cedar embar mix with the fresh air is near intoxicating as you settle in by his side, transports you to another time and place, empties your mind of worries that weigh heavy. You nearly forget about the medicinal herb that had willed you into town before anything else, a soft pat to your erireassuring that it is indeed tucked neatly between the folded fabrics.

Your poor father had awoken in a terrible pain, clinging to his missing leg as if it were still there. How awful it is to relive the day of his accident, too young to have understood back then that all you could do was cry when he returned home without the lower limb. It never did heal how it was supposed to despite the doctor's efforts and now he suffers daily. Humid days are always the worst. A run to town was the least you could do to not feel as helpless as that night.

Kyojuro laughs a little when you call yourself foolish for trying to outrun the rain without an umbrella, especially when the skies have been idling all day, but quickly draws attention to the fact that he had tried to beat the very same disadvantageous odds. The world stops when a soft snicker sneaks past your lips as well, delicate hand lifting to hide the extent of your grin.

He hears you sing sometimes in the woods, soft melodies that lifts through the air like bird’s song while your little sister skips at your side. There’s a small basket on your arm, your fingertips hovering, searching for fruit and vegetables to pick. You’re beautiful. He has always thought so, that you belong there, amongst blossoming trees and their dew dropped leaves, harmonizing with the gentle breeze. The rising sun tries to compete with the tranquil your presence brings, but ultimately it fails.

His heart hammers against his chest like it wants to break free.

Your eyes glance up and meet his for a fleeting moment before darting past him. You do hope his haori is not ruined.

The roads always start to look the same after a short while. It becomes so easy to get lost in your surroundings, leaves that flutter by, imitating butterflies as they ride the wind in a playful chase for one another. You invite the blonde to stay for tea once you pass the threshold to your father's estate, insist on it, at least until the rain subsides. Kyojuro escorts you to the door, doesn't lower his arms before you are safe from the drops on the engawa. You will not have it on your conscience lest he falls ill, but he is quick to decline, insists that the rain does little to bother him and he does not wish to impose. In truth, he is not entirely convinced his heart can spend another moment at your side without bursting.

You offer him an umbrella, your brother's, you can only roll your eyes at the thought of how he will inevitably chew you out later, but the gesture is justified. Kyojuro is a gentleman and you are certain he would have provided any other with the same kindness he has shown you with no thought for reciprocation. It feels only fair in your heart that his act of chilvalry is rewarded. You stand firm before he can express his gratitude, that he may return the umbrella once he invited back for dinner. You will send a letter.

He bows before taking his leave. “I shall await it with idle.”

Every meal can be appreciated once you have faced death on an empty stomach. When you've walked endless miles as your limbs quiver from a hunger that's wrenching its way through your guts like acid. It alters your heartbeat, makes you want to drop on your knees to shove dirt down your throat, just to fill your stomach with something. Kyojuro treats every meal like it may be his last; he never knows when it might be. You haved prepared his dinner this evening with such careful love he soars from the very first bite. An ecstasy that spreads throughout his body, seeps into his bones and fills him to the brim with a symphony of flavors. Words don't come easy, but your eyes gleam so wonderfully as you offer him yet another taste. They're like fireflies, your eyes, vibrating.

Your mother finds him... eccentric. But he is kind and honorable. His laugh is loud from the depths of his belly, yet patience shines through when your baby sister becomes enamored by the vermillion in his hair. It's like flames, she exlcaims and simply must how him the kanzashi pin she owns in the very same shade. He tells a tale of a fire wielding prince, travelling the world for his father's accept to one day rule the kingdom, with dragons and spiritual beings, but only once the prince looks inside himself will he find what he is truly looking for. Your sister eats it up with wide eyes. Kyojuro treats your family like equals despite the debt you owe his and he looks at you with such rapid falling adoration, your mother can only have nothing to object when you return his gaze.

Your encounters with Kyojuro are frequent, they always have been. He appears in uniform and over the years, it became rarer to see him out of it. Black, darkness smothers it, seams that have been ripped apart and stitched back together. You do not recognize the fabric, but it is clear that it has been recycled and repurposed time and time again. The texture is rough the time your hand brushes by his wrist, heavy against his broad frame, unlike anything you have come across in the shops. You've searched in quiet curiosity, cannot quite fathom what work could require such an attire, but the burden must be so heavy, lonely. Yet, you do not ask about the scars that paint his complexion nor the time he returned through town with a broken arm. You do not need to question the hardened skin as your fingertips trace lines in his palms to know that he sacrifices a part of himself that can never be regained.

He escorts you along the riverbank when you go to retrieve water, breath stuck in his throat as your arm curl under his, your form pressed to his side. It slows his steps to an amble walk in the hopes that you'll follow his attempt to savor each other for just that of a while longer. Sometimes your index finger draws absent patterns into his bicep while you comment how busy the water seem this morning. Perhaps it's eager to bathe in the lasting colors of the sunrise.

He misses your warmth when you stop to kneel by the stream, gazing at the cloud's reflection in the river. You declare it a crime to disturb such a scenic picture. Natural and untouched by man and here you are trying to take a piece of it home. A guilty part of you quietly wishes you could do so.

"I would hang it by my bed, I think," you muse.

The tasuki sash keeps your sleeves locked as you dip the wooden bucket in the river, hands still careful not to dirty too much of your kimono. Your face drops, almost disappointed that sky isn't painted in the liquid water anymore.

Your voice bears trace of melancholy. "But I suppose there would not be much reason to come here other than drudgery could I look at it every day without effort."

Sparrows gather curiously, skittish at first but a hop in their step once your chore has been put aside. They almost welcome your company. Kyojuro finds himself near convinced that you may very well be the reincarnation of a spirit in this forest until you reach into your sleeve and retrieve a small pouch of sunflower seeds to empty in your palm. The tiny birds are simply acclimated to your song and the soft, carefree giggles that break up your melody. He joins you on his knees and you take his open palm, gently like he's sculpted from the finest porcelain money could buy, to drop the remaining seeds. You take great joy in watching the skittish chicks peck at his hands with caution. He captures the height of your smile, your touch imprinted on his wrist, engraving your very presence onto himself. The birds twitter and chirp.

"They think you are kind," he says.

You cannot help the airy laugh that leaves your lips. "I'm sure they do."

Kyojuro allows himself the silent pleasure of resting his hand upon yours the way back to your estate, fingertips lingering before you slide from his side. He's not sure you even realize, but it's enough to keep the fluttering in the pit of his stomach all the way home.

There are days where he pulls himself away from you, from the world. Blood stains his uniform on those days. Your gaze longs for him but he keeps his eyes locked to the sky, talks heartily of the clouds and their shapes, muses on the stories they tell. If you did not know him any better you would think nothing wrong. But his voice is thick in his throat, swallows like shards of glass that tear his vocal cords apart. He does not even attempt to reach for the lunch wrapped in your furoshiki, fingers restless against the blanket he so politely unfolded for the both of you on the grass. He remains court and genteel as ever, but even his voice wavers when his thoughts can't seem to keep up, catches him off guard as he apologizes for fumbling his words.

You utter his given name for the first time then. It slips out unconsciously the way you've chanted it in your head so many times. Dripping with a love that scours every crevice of his soul for an opening to pour it into. It beckons him within your embrace, eyes wet and glossy as he searches for your touch, presses himself against you with caution. He does not always trust you to be real, worries that some deep, dark part of him has fragmented you in his mind in order to cope. One wrong move and you may shatter, vanish from before him in a cruel nightmare.

A gentle breeze gives him the final push and he collapses into you. Face buried in the fabrics of your kimono, limbs curling up with a strained tremble as the sound of your steady heartbeat and the vibrations your quiet hum carries to your chest, finally coaxes him over the edge. His arms move around you, hands nearly tearing apart the knot of your obi.

You hold him, cradle his head to your chest as the world disappears from around you.

Kyojuro told you keep your eyes looking forward. Grabbed your shoulders and pleaded with you to perservere, a promise that he would nurture the wound on your soul if it did not heal. Such big words from such a small boy. You had felt even smaller in his embrace, crumbled and shivering against his form. He bore a sword on his hip even then, naive and barely adolescent.

The night had been so early. You only snuck out with the innocent want to see the fireflies They were always so pretty as they flickered and soared, illuminated in the moonlight. You hadn't meant to leave the door open, only managed to sense the hunched over beast sneaking into your home out of the corner of your eyes. Your father convinced you later it had been a rabid dog, but you are sure your fragile mind would have believed anything.

By the time your young wit realized the ominous presence, it was already too late.

All you remember is the nauseating fear, the bile gathering in the back of your throat before you are dragged away. Calloused hands gripping yours, the locks of gold and crimson that obscured your view. Kyojuro had you tucked away in a corner of the house. Ordered by his father to keep an eye on you until help could arrive, draped in his cloak of fire and flames, katana stained with the blood of the beast that had infiltrated your home that night. He'd comforted you to the best of his ability, as much as a stranger could, a child no less, but the tortured screams of your father as they had to tend to his mangled leg immediately sent you into a frenzy, buried your face in the older boy's chest in the hopes of muffling the ghastly sounds. Kyojuro covered your ears, eyes alight like guiding candles drawing you towards their everglowing flame, into his warmth. You wished so earnestly to stay in his arms for eternity.

Gratitude of his close proximity grew up with you. A small detour to the river or town and you may pass the gates to the Rengoku estate, locks of flaming hair and deep laughs glimpsed through the corner of your eye, settling a blossoming comfort in your chest.

The image of that night still haunts you to this day, the memory eating away at your very essence, physique heavy and paralyzed as you lay sunken in the softness of your futon unable to find sleep, just waiting for it to wither away with the night.

It's inadvertent how your arms clutch his collapsed form tighter, soaked in the warm rays of the sun in this absent clearing of the woods, secluded and hidden like it had appeared just for two of you. Hands brushing through the forest of his unruly tresses as you urge him not to be so strong. You won't tell. Voice soft and hushed, only for him, you sing a lullaby to cleanse his being of malice. It becomes your little secret, that he spills tears wrapped in your embrace, tongue-tied and voiceless while his mortal soul bleeds.

Kyojuro is ever aware of the things in life that are beyond his control. Wheels in constant motion, there is no need to dwell on them. But, it still manages to put a stagger in his movements when one day his eager tsugoku asks if he plans to pledge his devotion to you soon.

It stems from how he had tucked a finely sculptured hair pain in between your locks. Your sister's grave fascination with Mitsuri's hair enough of a distraction he needed. Of course, he did not disclose how the kanzashi has been carried in his sleeve for three days now, on the account that an opportunity may present itself. He simply thought the color complimented your eyes, petals and pearls like waterfall against your shimmering strands. Your fingertips touch the delicate jewelry with care as you tell him how lovely it is, a wonderful shade of pink adonishing your cheeks.

He offers to wait for you, eyes of amber follow you through the shop as you check off the items on your list. Your sister catch sight of recently stocked honey and hangs off your arm, asking to make castella with stars in her eyes. How can you possibly refuse?

Denying his love for you is futile. You enflame his heart with passion. A yearning that spreads all the way into his fingertips, twitching for the chance to grace your skin. You are softer than the finest silk. Minutes with you are infitnite and he wants to spend each one pouring his soul into you like you're the very essence of his existence. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. But, some deep, dark part of him accepts that he is bound to lose you.

Misturi leans close to his ear. "Master, they must be a beautiful soul to have your affection. Do not doubt yourself."

Kyojuro escorts you home. There is no doubt he is a swordsman when he brings your hands between his tightly, wants to memorize each bend of your knuckles before he has to let you go once again, with rough palms but a touch so gentle your heart jumps in your throat. He places a small pouch in your palm, closing your grip around it as he tells you with grave intent to keep it on your person at all times. It may soothe him more than you, but his eyes are pleading. The finely embroidered wisteria flower in the fabric a promise to protect you when he cannot.

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