#then again how could he. how could anyone. those were the people who taught him to walk and rocked him to sleep at night

[confused-stars]

unlocked Wriothesley friendship level 6 and this man really says "yeah I sure wish I had had a happy childhood or the ability to trust other people haha anyway i'm well-adjusted"

[suguru-getos]

-> Kid Gojo running away from home, meets kid F!Reader. <3

It was weird, the scorching sun of Kyoto was humiliating her very body. Gasping, panting, heavy breathing, she had just run from a few bullies who wanted to take her limited edition water bottle away. For a child who was so doted on, overbearingly so, but somehow it all being a facade, Satoru couldn’t understand his own life, part of him thought it’s fun & he gets to have whatever he wants. Part of him craved what normalcy means, and how he could possibly achieve it in a stigma of innate power & pedastal he’s crowned with. His birthday recently passed, so many gifts & yet gift giving could lack warmth that much & include agendas? Unbearable. This world was unbearable.

His eyes were powerful, he had been practising with his own given the strict routine of Jujutsu being taught in his clan… Gojo clan, Zen’in clan, Kamo clan… how do normal people behave? Ignorance is bliss indeed, or that is something Satoru swears by for the non-sorcerer community.

Ignorance is utterly blissful, why else was she running towards him without a fear of her life? His eyes widened, school uniform, tattered & bruised knees, beautiful hair that are utter opposite to his, eyes gleaming, happy— kind— before Satoru could say anything, both her hands clasped his arm, using him as a leverage, she hid behind him.

Now, Satoru can handle all the trouble in the world. Small kid with small hands knew his worth, knew his birth shook the sorcerer community & he is god-like. Still, this normalcy felt endearing. The fact that she didn’t ask him, or bow in front of him to be allowed to touch Satoru was, new.

He turned his head to look at her, what was she running from. His gorgeous blue eyes met hers, thick lashes batting in curiosity, “Ano- what are you running from?” He asked, a slight snobbish arrogance lacing his sentence. He just isn’t used to any other way. Could it be that she was being haunted by a curse? What was tormenting this beautiful girl?

“How old are you?” Satoru continued, asking another question.

“I’m eight, turning nine soon. My name is Y/N. I am running from a few people in my school, they want my water bottle & they get anythin’ they want from anyone…” she pouted big, showing Satoru her water bottle. It looked cute, he’d give it that, but for someone who always has whatever he wants, the idea of people bothering someone else for materialistic things seemed unfit.

“Pretty bottle.” He said, taking it from her & examining it further. Maybe he’s missing something? There has to be something valuable about it… he even tried using six eyes to understand, nope… nothing. Just an ordinary bottle in the hands of an ordinary girl.

“They won’t bother you, I am here. I’m really strong.” He grins, so far he’s always been told he’s really strong but this time he has used this to forge his own identity. “Yeah?” She raised a brow, slightly skeptical.

“Yeah- I am already ten years old. Senpai.” Satoru smirked again, what a tiny lady being bothered by a tiny bottle.

“Well, if you really can protect me from those bullies, I can take you home and make you meet my mom. She makes amazing cookies, & she is making a cake today, Fridays are baking days.” This time, the girl grinned back, just as chirpy and excited. Happily accepting herself to be under Satoru’s wing.

The strongest sorcerer in the world, was still a kid. Needed to be loved like a kid. “I could get any cookies I want.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, not my mum’s cookies.” She resisted, pouting & yanking the bottle away.

What was about her mom’s cookies which could be that special? Satoru raised his brows, he has promised to protect someone & what kinda man would he be if he doesn’t keep his promise?

“Okay, I’ll go home with you.” He nods, besides, there is a special naughty joy that erupts in his childish psyche to imagine his butlers being scolded.

Satoru Gojo didn’t have a normal life, yet. This was a good start, maybe a frequent spot to visit when he escapes his gruesome trainings & his role to save the world.

[temis-de-leon]

He has a nightmare where he rejected you

Characters: Diavolo and Barbatos (x gn!reader, separately)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

Main Masterlist

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Diavolo – No one would ever accept you

Your willingness and capability to adapt quickly to the Devildom delights him. Sure, the friendship you develop with the seven brothers helps in your journey, but even that requires some talent and persistence; not everyone gets to enjoy Lucifer’s company, after all.

What a wonderful surprise you were. The perfect human exchange student for his program; you make him have high hopes for the foreseeable future.

The way you grew up, what were you taught and how you existed amongst those who resemble your life are nothing like anything he has ever seen before. Since Solomon is a human with no humanity, the contrast between you and him and everyone else is overwhelming.

Curiously, perhaps that’s why your interest in him developed so quickly.

Sure, he’s handsome and powerful and you will never meet anyone like him ever again, but that’s not why you search for his company, isn’t it?

While accepting his dark nature and respecting his position, you don’t see a ruler whenever you look at him, nor a figure to be afraid of. On the contrary, you smile and join him at his childish whims and treat him like you would with any of the brothers; no titles or inhibitions, just a pure honest wish to spend your free time with him.

Rejecting you is not an enjoyable experience and he regrets doing it for many long days, but the truth is, he doesn’t see a friend in you whenever he stops to gaze at your features.

He sees a human, a short lifespan and no presence in the demon hierarchy; judging eyes questioning his decision to accept your feelings.

He sees no place for you in his life and that breaks his heart more than anything.

Of course, of all the nights he could’ve had this type of nightmare it had to be the one when he wasn’t sharing his bed with you.

His arms stretched, foolishly searching for your body, but he knew you were in your room in the House of Lamentation; sleeping peacefully, he hoped, although he could picture you mindlessly scrolling through your Devilgram feed.

He pushed himself off the bed, grimacing from the ache in his back, the point in his spine where his wings merged with bone. It felt as if he was still carrying his whole weight, standing straight for hours to smile at people who preferred him to be silent and pliable. Responding with hostility would never be the better option, that he knew, but he had spent every year of his life learning how to control his emotions for the future of his country and still, the universe seemed to enjoy testing his patience now and then.

Announcing your relationship to the public had been a calculated choice. While everyone knew you spent time together, holding hands and kissing when you didn’t mind who was watching, and surely doing even more than that in private, it had never been clarified whether yours was a casual affair or a serious commitment. The first would mean the prince was allowed to have fun, with a human no less, but the second implied taking too much from you; perhaps more than you could handle.

You had been there with him the whole night, chin high as well, but no wings or tail to back you. No horns to crown your head. For the first time, he saw your nature bother you, even if you tried to hide it from him. The scrutiny of others had tired you and your smile had disappeared long before his, which he couldn’t blame you for.

Spending the rest of your life with him was a sacrifice on your part. Blood, sweat and tears that you would shed together.

And he respected you for it.

He was so proud of you. So thankful.

Saying the whole situation wouldn’t be easier if he found someone more suitable for the spot you were in would be a lie, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Couldn’t he be selfish this once? He’d already given so much of himself to his kingdom; couldn’t he keep you at least?

The darkness of his room did nothing to ease his solitude, making it seem bigger than it was.

He paced around trying to tire himself again, to no avail. His mind was with you and with the sad expression you wore when you parted ways after the formal dinner and left with Lucifer and his brothers. Although you both expressed wanting to spend the night together, you desperately needed some time alone to clear your head and comfort your heart and, to be fair, so did he.

However, Diavolo couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his DDD to check your chatroom; thankfully, you had been offline for hours. Sitting in his bed while stretching despite the pain, he slowly crafted a long good-night message. A bit cryptic, perhaps, but concise enough for him to go to bed peacefully again.

He would try again tomorrow.

He would try as many times as necessary if just for you.

Barbatos - You didn't catch his attention

He is, by a long far, one of the most important figures in the Devildom. A powerful being who swore servitude to an equally, if not more, powerful demon and acted true to his word from the beginning to the very end.

Ears and eyes everywhere, every time even, he is a valuable asset to the prince and even a friend when the moment is appropriate.

That implies secrecy and control. His speech is calculated and always limited, careful around others. He has to be mindful regarding what he talks about and with who.

What would Leviathan call him? The Dungeon Master?

He is no master of any kind, but the title amuses him nonetheless.

Thankfully, he enjoys the air of mysteriousness his job gives him.

Apparently, you do too.

Even though you’ve always been special, regardless of your unique magic, he hasn’t found you exceptional enough to open his heart to you.

He could and he definitely would in any other circumstance, but there was no push that would make him go forward.

Your confession, somehow, still surprises him.

Him, of all people? Him, who never bothered to spend time with you because he never found a reason to?

Dejecting your feelings is a pity, but you feel no different than a normal friend. It would be a waste of time to try for anything more.

He’s flattered, mind you, but that’s it.

Although he hopes you can continue to be friends, he would understand if you turn him down.

He can live with it; and he knows, with time, you will too.

As much control as he normally had over his unique power, it was impossible not to have slip-ups. Dreams, as he unfortunately came to discover, were the one door he couldn’t figure out how to close. Real alternate timelines and possibilities that never came to be merged in his subconscious, sometimes with unnecessary cruelty.

Rejecting you? Sadly, that’s something that could have happened. There’s so much he has to do, so many things he is responsible for… Perhaps time was for other versions of him more a tool to use than a treasure to keep. Perhaps, for those other versions, you didn’t fit in their schedule.

What a foolish mindset.

How realistic.

How sad.

He scowled, both from the thought and from the pain in his shoulder and his neck. The cushion he had been sleeping on wasn’t fluffy, more to decorate than to do its purpose, and his previous posture was as uncomfortable as it could get. When he tried to get up, planning to continue to do his job, no muscle in his body moved as it was supposed to do. A groan disrupted the silence of the room.

You would’ve called him an old man had you been there and he wouldn’t have had any words to defend himself.

Then again, had you actually been there, maybe the whole situation wouldn’t have happened.

A wave of unbearable warmth suddenly ran through his body, making him jump out off the couch while taking his gloves and jacket off. He huffed at the tidiness around him, not as satisfying as before anymore.

This particular living room wasn’t commonly used unless foreign guests were invited to the castle. Abandoned by everyone else, he sent the little D’s on cleaning duty on occasion, but this time he had decided to do it himself. Why? Perfectionism, of course. No speck of dust in sight, no armchair or chest out of place; red, gold and black, the colours of the crown, present across the furniture without being overbearing.

You had invited him to the House of Lamentation to spend the rest of the evening together, but he had declined, just like many times before. He’d learnt to know over time that you’d grown to expect his rejection, but still asked out of courtesy and perhaps a little bit of hope. How much would it pass until you decided you had enough of asking and stopped?

You were doomed to suffer his rejection, it seemed: in other timelines and your existent relationship with him. His stomach churned at the realization.

Sighing deeply, he waited until his heart settled again into a steady rhythm. He grabbed his discarded jacket and his gloves, faintly smelling the cleaning products’ residue, and grimaced while getting out of the isolated room. The time he’d take to reach the main areas of the castle would be enough for him to send a message to the Young Lord asking for a much-needed break.

Normally, the very few times he did it, he would ask in person and in advance, but the concept of time was filling his mind with anguish. He had already given too much of it to Lord Diavolo and, as much as he loved serving him, giving an approximate amount to you should be almost as important.

His job didn’t allow him to expand the limits, but for you, he’d go as far as he could.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[grapejuicebrat]

carry you home

PAIRING: rafe cameron x reader

SUMMARY: where rafe finally found someone who loves him. and where finally rafe falls in love.

my masterlist

The best love is unexpected. You don't just pick someone and cross your fingers it'll work out. You meet them by fate and it's an instant connection, and the chemistry share is way above your head. You just talk and notice the way their lips curve when they smile or the colour of their eyes and all at once you know you're either lucky or screwed.

That’s what Rafe loves about you. Well, actually, he just loves you. He loves the way you smile, the way you walk, the way you talk. The way you hug him wherever he is sad. The way you talk him through hard times. The way you immediately know when something is off. The way you taught him how to trust people and not be afraid to express feelings.

You were his light in the darkness.

When he first met you he thought that you were disgustingly cute and sweet and shit. You didn’t care about Rafe being a total dick to you. You just wished him a nice day and offered a free ice cream just because you were in a good mood to make people happy.

And guess what? In the evening, the same day, Rafe felt guilty. You were so nice to him and he did everything to ruin your good impression of him. Like you weren’t like this pogues who just see him and are ready to throw all shit at him. You were literally smiling and offered a fucking ice cream. When he told you to fuck off and stop smiling.

Guess again? The next day Rafe bought you an ice cream in your own shop. And he apologised for being a dick. And of course you forgave him.

“Sure thing! Everybody has a bad day, it’s okay!”

And your sweet voice wasn’t that disgusting anymore.

You showed him one important thing that no one has ever been able to show him before. Not that he’s beautiful, not that he’s smart, not that he’s sweet. None of that. You showed him something more important than any of those things. You showed him that he was important, that there's a reason he’s here. You made him feel like the world was lucky to have him.

And Rafe doesn’t know if anyone will ever make him feel that way again.

Waking up next to you was Rafe’s favourite thing after coming home to you after a long day at work. Honestly, it is so nice - knowing that here is someone who is actually waiting for you. You were always there for him. Supporting in every decision, giving advices when he needs them, just being silent because comfortable silence is so underrated.

And when you said you loved him? Rafe thought that he was about to pass out. It was the best fucking thing that ever happened to him. Knowing that someone loves him. Just because he exists. Maybe he is toxic, manipulative. But she loves him. The way he is.

“I love you. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. If I were to live a thousand years, I would belong to you for all of them. If I were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one.”

And then Rafe cried. And no, he wasn’t embarrassed of this. Because you taught him that it’s not a disgusting thing to express your feelings. It’s okay to cry. Just because you’re a man it doesn’t change anything. You’re still allowed to cry and to laugh and to be silent. Rafe is a human too after all.

“You know what i’ve learned from your stupid romcoms?” Rafe asks you and kisses your cheek.

“They are not stupid!” you roll your eyes and laugh. “But anyway, what you’ve learned?”

“The world was made so that we could find each other in it.”

And he was finally happy, having the love of his life in his arms.

this one is so special to me and no i won’t stop writing about rafe being a softie lmao

if you would like to be added to my taglist leave a comment or let me know by sending me in my ask!

tag list: @ivy-34

[kennarose1108]

Feyd Rautha x Reader !You Get Harassed!

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖥𝖾𝗒𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎… 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖼.

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾.

He terrified you, to say the least. How could anyone not be terrified of him? He's killed countless people and feels no remorse. But he's never shown that side of him to you. Well, besides in the arena. You went once, saw the gruesome scenes, and never went again.

But he was always kind and gentle towards you. He made sure you were comfortable and taken care of. But he especially...

Made sure nobody messed with you.

You were his property, his prize... You were his and he made everyone know of it.

But... There was one man who believed he could have his way. He was Feyd's right-hand man, Atreus. He believed he could do what he felt like with anyone because of his status in the kingdom. Except to the people of higher rank than him, and he did not consider you to be of higher rank than him.

One day you were sitting at the breakfast table when Feyd entered. The room was empty besides you and him since after you both got together he got rid of all his concubines... So the large table lay empty most mornings and nights. Well, besides you of course. Feyd occasionally joined you but it was rare... And it seems like today was one of those days.

He entered and his eyes were immediately on you. "Good morning, my lord..." You say while standing to your feet and bowing your head. He bowed his head back and walked over to his seat, "How are you, my darling?" He says before sitting down in his seat. "I am well... And you?" You ask while sitting down.

"I am also well." He says, his eyes never leaving yours. You were nervous, that was obvious. "Today Atreus will escort you to the arena. You're going to watch me fight today." He says... Well, more like commands. "And before you ask why, today is an important match." He says. You nod your head, your gaze low. He stands up and walks over to you. You look up at him and he brushes some hair out of your face.

"I know you don't like it... But it's important to me. Just bear with it today, okay?" He says in a soft tone of voice. You nodded.

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

Later on, you were in your chambers when you heard a knock at your door. You opened your door to see Atreus. You go to walk past him to start walking to the arena but he stops you. "What's the rush?" Atreus says with a smirk.

You stand there confused, "Na-Baron wants me to go to the arena... I thought you were taking me...?" You say in a confused tone of voice. "Yeah but..." He takes a step forward, and you take a step back, "We don't have to go there for another ten minutes..." He says with a disgusting smirk. "I think we could have some fun beforehand..." He says.

Your blood ran cold. He grabbed your hips and pulled you toward him, "W-Wait-!" "Don't deny me, I'm your superior. You'll do as I say, right?" He says before placing a kiss on your neck. A shiver ran down your spine, but not one of pleasure but one of fear and disgust.

"Stop!" You cried out as he forced your hips against yours. "Oh come on... It'll be fine." He smirked while continuing to kiss your neck and rub his hips against yours. Luckily for you, you were taught some self defense.

You kneed him in the crotch and knocked him to the ground. You ran out of the room once he was down and ran down the hall. You didn't know where to go, but you knew you had to get away. Tears spilled down your cheeks, blurring your vision.

As you ran you ran into someone and fell to the ground.

"Oh! My lady! Are you alright?" A handmaiden says while kneeling down to you. She saw your distress and tears and her eyebrows furrowed. "My lady... Are you alright?" She says while helping you to her feet. You were in hysterics. You were sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.

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

Feyd heard of you being hysterical and dropped everything and came running to you. The handmaiden had brought you to Feyd's chambers because when she mentioned bringing you back to yours you cried hysterically and begged her not to.

Feyd entered his chambers and saw you sitting on his bed and crying while being held by the handmaiden. She looked up at him, "You're dismissed." He says with a nod. She quickly got to your feet and hurried away.

Feyd walked over to you and kneeled in front of you. "What happened?" He says in a soft tone of voice. You sniffled and sobbed and you didn't know how you could explain this to him or if he'd even believe you.

"Y/N. Tell me." He says while brushing some hair out of your face. It took a few minutes but you managed to pull yourself together enough to say, "Atreus h-he-" But then you broke down into a sob again.

Feyd's face fell and he rested his hand on your head. "Did he touch you?" He asks. You managed a nod.

Feyd grew angry.

Furious. Red fury rage flooded through his veins.

He stood up and stormed out of the room, leaving you alone in your mess.

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

You were lying in Feyd's bed when you heard the door open. You sat up and saw Feyd entering the room. He looked like he had just been washed. He looked clean... Abnormally clean.

He walked over to you and sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you alright?" He asks. You nodded but you looked terrible. Your eyes were puffy and red, your cheeks were flushed, your lips were chapped and your hair was messy. "Where did you go?" You ask. "I took care of him," Feyd says. "'Took care of him'?" You repeat. "What do you mean?" You ask.

"I mean I pulled out his teeth then slit his throat." You gasped.

"You... You killed him? Why? You've known him a lot longer than me... He was your right-hand man..." You murmured. Feyd rests his hand on your thigh, "No one touches my girl." He says. Your eyes widened and your lips parted.

He did that... All for you. He loved you. He truly did.

Tears welled in your eyes and you leaned forward and hugged him tightly. He was surprised by your actions, you had never gotten this close to him, let alone hug him.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

"I won't let anyone harm you... Never again."

[cozage]

2k followers lets goooo!!! (Proud follower hereee!!!) And ive been wanting to request smth from you for a while now and i think this is the perfect opportunity !! Can u create some hesdcanons for sabo, law, luffy, zoro, and sanji (maybe shanks too?) where the reader wants to leave the crew/organization their in coz of smth from their past, making them have to? They could've already left, about to leave quietly, betrayed them unwillingly etc!!! Do your thing !

^ - ^

Angst to comfort plsss my heart cannot take anymore heartbreaks huhuhu

A/N: just did the captains for now :)

Characters: gn reader x Sabo, Law, Luffy, Shanks Total word count: 1.2k

Blackmail

Sabo

You were gone when Sabo woke up. No note, nothing. But you had knocked out some security guards in your escape off the island. So Sabo set off, trying to figure out where you had gone. He would go to the ends of the earth to find you again if he had to. 

Some people called it denial. Some called it insanity. Some called it pitiful. He didn’t care. He had been called all those things before.

But he knew you. He knew that you wouldn’t betray him. Not like that. He refused to believe everything you two shared wasn’t just an act. 

He chased you for weeks, following your tracks and just barely missing you at several encounters.

He was so close, and he couldn’t help but feel like you were leaving him a trail. You knew how to disappear. The fact that he could find you meant you wanted to be found. 

When he finally found you, curled up in a bed with shackles around your arms as you slept, he knew you were doing everything against your will. The two men who were guarding you were easy enough to take care of, and he woke you up gently. 

“We’re going home,” he whispered, unlocking your cuffs. 

When you realized it was him, you began sobbing, apologizing for all the trouble you had caused. But he refused to accept your apologize-you owed him nothing of the sort. You were safe now, that’s what mattered. 

After you return home and he’s certain you’re safe, he sets off to find the mastermind behind the whole blackmailing situation. He’ll never let anyone ever hurt you again, and those people need to be taught a lesson. 

Law

Your plan was to slip out quietly, in the dead of night. You had snuck sleeping pills into everyone’s drinks, and you were certain they would be out until morning. 

So your heart dropped when the light flicked on as you were stealthing through Law’s office to take your leave. 

“Y/N,” Law’s voice was steady and alert. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.” You refused to look at him. He’d be able to see through you in an instant.

“Is that why you attempted to drug me?” he asked, and you silently cursed yourself. Of course he would notice. “This isn’t like you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you said through gritted teeth. “Stay out of it.”

“I know you enough to realize your hands are clenched and your entire body is tight, which means you’re doing something you don’t want to do. I also know you won’t look at me when you’re lying, so you’re obviously hiding something.”

“Just stay out of it, Law.” You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if he got hurt.

He suddenly shambled in front of you, and you couldn’t hide your tear-filled eyes anymore. He stared down at you, slightly disappointed in your lack of trust in him.

“We can figure this out together,” he reminded you. “You’re not alone. And we’re stronger together than we are apart.”

You let out a sob and collapsed into his chest, thankful for his endless love and acceptance, even when you tried to push him away. 

Luffy

Luffy didn’t understand what you meant by “leaving the crew”. Especially since you wrote it on a note.

“We’re all in agreement, right?” he asked his crew. “Y/N needs our help. So we’re going to help.”

Everyone was in instant agreement. A goodbye note wasn’t like you. Even if you did want to leave, they all deserved more than a note. 

Luffy made it his top priority to find you. They scoured the island, searching for hours. But nobody found you.

The next day, Luffy was the first one awake, and he was on the island before Sanji could even make breakfast. He was searching, determined to find you. 

When he finally rounded a corner and made eye contact with you, your eyes widened. “Leave me alone!” you hissed, and then you took off running.

He easily chased after you and tackled you to the ground. “You’re not leaving!” he yelled, pinning your arms to the ground. “Not like that!”

“Luffy!” you hissed. You both needed to be quiet, or he would be seen. “Please go! Just leave.”

“Haven’t you learned?” he asked, his voice breaking. “We’re a family. We solve problems together. You don’t leave notes saying goodbye. Don’t we mean anything to you? Don’t I?”

His big, sad eyes finally made you break down, explaining everything to him and how you couldn’t sail with him due to a problem you had on the island. 

Needless to say, Luffy fixed that problem immediately and had already forgotten about it all by the time the two of you got back to the ship. 

Shanks

“That’s a lot of supplies for a quick run to port.” Shanks’s joking tone was present, but you could hear that his voice held something else.

“Things to sell,” you replied smoothly. If you could get off the boat and away from the crew, then at least they wouldn’t be hurt in the process.

Shanks hummed, clearly not believing you. “Strange of you to sell your most prized possessions, yet leave the emeralds and diamonds we picked up from that other ship.”

“Shanks-”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on.”

You thought about running, but a glimmer from the crow’s nest told you that Yasopp was watching closely. Time to switch to Plan B. “I’m leaving.”

You could feel Shank’s gaze on you, his heart breaking at your words. 

“I don’t like it here anymore,” you said, trying to keep your wits about you. “It’s suffocating. I can’t stand it.” You turned to look at him, mustering all the hatred you could. “I can’t stand any of you.”

You could see Shanks wrestling with your words, trying to decipher truth from lie. You had an excellent poker face, but unfortunately, he knew that as well. 

“Kiss me, then.” Shanks walked toward you, and you stiffened at the thought. “You may be able to lie with your words, but your lips don’t lie when they’re pressed against mine. So let’s see if you’re telling the truth.”

“I never want to kiss you aga-” His lips crashed into yours, cutting your words off. 

You tried to pull away, but you couldn’t. Your body simply wouldn’t let you. After a few moments, he pulled away, and you let out a soft whine in protest. 

Shanks grinned, the answer to his question plain as day. He was relieved to know you didn’t actually hate him, but now there was an actual problem to be solved. 

But he didn’t blame you, he blamed whoever put you in this situation. And surely they would pay.

[thekitchenywitch]

Asra has seen so many things and experienced so much grief for people that came back into his life one at a time.

First he lost his parents who were locked away by the devil for the simple crime helping Lucio and protecting their son.

Then Muriel ( which I think a lot of people forget). I don’t think Muriel would have been able to make himself go back to Asra after he’d been hurt badly in a fight. I truly don’t think Muriel would be able to do that to the bright-eyed, lively, poofy-haired kid that made him remember what life was worth.

Then you and as I mentioned before, he wasn’t even there, he had begged and pleaded with you to come with him but you wanted to stay, you wanted to help those who had been doomed by the plague. And he wasn’t even there to hold your hand or take care of you as you died, and it ripped him apart.

The first to come back was Muriel, who had helped in Asra’s plan to bring you back. Muriel was the first person who came back, the first part of his family he’d seen in years.

Next was you. He gave up half of his own heart to bring you back. To hold you in his arms again. But you didn’t know who he was. You didn’t know who you were. You didn’t know anything or anyone, and I think it would have destroyed him a second time. He taught you how to be yourself again, how to be a person, a magician, a soul, you. And you gave him everything he could ask for in return.

You helped him to find his parents again, you helped him save them and their familiars. You brought them home.

Asra’s route and life held so much grief and so much joy at the same time. He held so much inside of him and still managed to be good. That’s why I admire him. He had so many emotions so many clashing feeling and he still stayed kind. He still chose to be himself. He chose to stay the bright-eyed, poofy-haired, marvel that he is.

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.1 (Azriel x reader, eventual Fenrys x reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terassen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

See masterlist

A/n: hey everyone! so this is my first work on here and I just hope you will enjoy it. Please do not hesitate to comment whether you like it/want more of it or if you have some good constructive criticism to give! I will give some clarifications at the end of this chapter as to not give away any spoilers beforehand:)

Being a female Illyrian with wings was never meant to be easy. Growing up and not knowing your parents was perhaps the greatest pain a child could endure. Especially if that child grows up in a cruel place like the Illyrian camps. For the first 20 years of her life, y/n knew nothing but pain, mistreatment and hatred as she spent her youth at the cruel hands of an old Illyrian bastard. Of course, what y/n went through was never kept as a secret but it is not like anyone cared anyway. This was Illyria, the mistreatment of females was not a surprise. In fact, the vile monsters who called themselves warriors, encouraged it.

And just like any other female unlucky enough to be born in Illyria and have wings, y/n had to get her wings clipped. Even after all those years, that moment that changed everything for y/n is still so vivid in her mind...

The leaves in the forest crunched as his boots kept stepping on them while dragging her through the maze of trees.

"Please, please I beg you do not take my wings!"

He kept on ignoring her. She called him a 'He' because y/n would never willingly say his disgusting name. Not when he was the cause of all her trauma and illnesses. She kept thrashing, begging and trying to get away but it was useless.

"I beg yo-"

Her words were cut short as a slap was delivered to her face.

"Shut you mouth! you useless bitch"

She never begged. No, y/n was strong, even then, at her weakest she was strong. She never begged. Not when he would burn her hands, not when he would whip her back, not when he would beat her up because she forgot to do a chore. But now she begged. She begged for her only form of freedom, her precious wings. At that moment y/n knew what had to be done. This was the last straw.

"Stay like that on your knees and do NOT move, or else you won't like the consequences."

As he turned around to search for his tools, y/n sat there on the ground in the middle of this dark forest just outside the outskirts of the village and knew she could not go down like those before her. For 20 years she submitted to his every will but not now, not again. Weak coward is what she has been and now it was time to change that.

When he turned around, y/n was holding her only form of protection, her pocket knife that she would always hide under her clothes. When he was close enough, y/n gave a final prayer to the mother and attacked him with a sloppy move that would result in either her freedom or death.

"It is time to truly make you bound to me you bi-"

He did not get to finish his words as the knife he did not see in the dark, found its mark in his throat. Crimson red blood was everywhere as that monster choked on his own blood like a damn fool and finally, slumped to the ground.

The rest? Well, the rest became history as y/n left that night with his blood still soaking her own clothes and body and his fresh corpse laying on the ground. She would never let anyone ever dictate her life again. Never would she be weak again. And so, for the next 80 years of her life, y/n went from one place to another and taught herself how to fight and be like a warrior. Her name began spreading around like wildfire, as people started talking of the Illyrian female who not only managed to keep her wings but also killed her abuser.

She helped hundreds, by recruiting victims of different horrible events and teaching them how to fight and protect themselves. Y/n became a legend especially in the eyes of female Illyrians who tried to follow her lead. This was also the reason why y/n one day opened her door to see the High Lord of the Night Court waiting for her. The smile on Rhysands face was blinding as he praised y/n while also telling her about how it was a dream of his to get rid of the old Illyrian traditions and rules set against the females. It was on that eventful day that the High Lord also offered y/n to join his court and make a very impactful visit to Illyria after all these years to help him make those changes.

At the time, it was a huge step for y/n as she delegated her role as a trainer to her first-best student who was more than honored to continue y/n's job in the training academy. When she came to Velaris she was in awe of its beauty and comfort. The inner circle welcomed her with open arms and although y/n was a little distant at first, she soon got along well with everyone and especially Cassian as they trained daily together. It was also the time when the first seeds of her crush on Azriel were planted.

Therefore, by the age of 100, y/n was an official member of the night court, a legendary figure who started to make her changes during her visits to the Illyrian camps. This time, she went in not as a weakling, but as a feared and well-respected fighter, female and most of all, Illyrian. But even with all of the fierce titles that she got, y/n still felt like turning into a small, shy and meek girl whenever Azriel was around. Rhysand sending them together on constant missions did nothing to ease her increasing infatuations with the famed shadowsinger either.

Unfortunately, they got closer during the darkest of times when Rhysand sacrificed himself to protect his court and city from Amarantha. It was then that, Azriel and y/n shared their deepest, most raw and intimate moments with one another while also doing their best to protect the city in which they were locked in thanks to Rhysands wards. Those moments were what led y/n to confess her true feelings to the spymaster during the 4th year of what would be Amarantha's 50 year reign of terror. After that day, they truly became lovers in all aspects that mattered. Even though that unmistakable bond of a mate did not appear, y/n knew it was only a matter of time before they both felt it. There was no other way.

Today, sitting here on her lovers chair in his office, y/n felt proud of herself and her loved ones for overcoming so much. Rhysand and Feyre under the mountain, the war against Hybern, Nesta and Elain becoming high fae, and the attack on Velaris all left many scars both visible and invisible on everyone. Knowing that everyone has finally found some form of happiness and that her lover is safe with her should have made y/n happy, excited even. But as of late, she could not bring herself to feel anything because Azriel was not the male she once knew.

For a very long time now, the shadowsinger has been distancing himself from y/n in favor of spending more time with a specific redheaded priestess, Gwyneth. What was once called the hour of reading by y/n and Az in the comfort of their home, turned into reading with Az and Gwyn in the library. Even during training, Gwyn would respectfully decline y/n or anyone elses offers to train her and would instead ask Azriel to teach her. He would always happily oblige, leaving y/n alone as Cassian trained with Nesta. At first, y/n tried to understand and reason by thinking that since Azriel was the one to save the priestess from facing a terrible fate in the library of Sangravah, it was only fair that she felt safe around him. However, the other priestesses were also saved by Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand and yet, y/n never saw them be as clingy as Gwyn was towards Azriel.

The final nail in the coffin came when Azriel started coming home late and locking himself up in his office and leaving early in the morning. This meant that y/n never saw her lover, let alone kissed or made love to him. That is how it led to her finally coming to his office to wait for him and get some answers to her questions.

"Y/n? W-what are you doing here?"

That slightly nervous voice drew her back into reality as y/n looked back from the window showing the beautiful city, to see Azriel standing in the doorway with dishelved hair and a sort of scared look in his eyes, no matter how much he tried to not show it, y/n knew him like the back of her hand. Being together for 52 years does that to you. This was not a good sign then, for Azriel never showed such a shameful expression and his shadows were nowhere in sight.

As y/n got up from the chair and started walking towards him, her mind and soul clinged onto that last thread of hope that the male whom she loved was not unfaithful to her, that he would explain everything and she would see that she was making silly little assumptions out of nothing.

Unfortunately, all that hope came crashing down as y/n got close enough to him and smelled that scent of another female, that scent that belonged to...Gwyn. And if the small dark marks that were peeking above the spymasters shirt were any indicator, they did more than just read together.

Y/n felt like she was drowning, like a huge mountain just crashed down on her and she was left under all that rubble to suffocate and die. She was frozen in her spot, unfeeling and unmoving as she felt her body shut down completely. Clearly, this only meant that she would shatter soon enough but not here, not in front of him. Never would she ever be weak infront of any male. And so, with a voice that conveyed no emotion, she asked, "How long?"

"Y/n ple-"

"How long, Azriel."

Azriel sighed as he looked anywhere but at her when he said, "Since the first time Nesta brought her to train with us."

"But that was 2 years ago."

After seeing him nod very slightly, she reigned in her tears that were burning the backs of her eyes, and asked one simple question,

"Why?"

Now it was the shadowsingers turn to look as emotionless as he could while saying, "Because she is my mate y/n."

Mate, mate, mate ofcourse he would have a mate, no matter how many years they were together, neither of them ever felt that bond snap. Foolish, so foolish to think, to hope that they were destined to be, that their bond would snap any moment. But how cruel can one be to hide the truth for 2 years, To go behind her back, even if Gwyn is his mate, and be unfaithful? To not admit the truth as if y/n wouldn't understand. And Gwyn? how could she never once mention it to y/n during all those moments spent together? How, how how..

As if that pain was not enough, Azriel confessed, "I am sorry y/n but truly, did you think we were fated to be? I always knew what we had was temporary, that we were never going to have a happy end as the cauldron would give us both our own mates. My love for you has always only been platonic...have you not noticed that I never once said 'I love you'? I saw you as a friend, a companion in whom I could loose myself for a while as I waited for my mate to come. Truly, you were good, so good to me, kind and caring and yet, so foolish. You imagined and expected too much of us y/n...for you I was a male whom you desperately loved but for me, you were simply someone who I could spend my time with until my mate arrived. I love Gwyn, I have taken her to the house of wind multiple times and made love to her there, I have spent my time understanding and creating as many memories as possible with her. From the moment I saw her 2 years ago when Nesta brought her, I felt this pull towards her and now...now I could never get enough. I do not say this to hurt you, but to make you see the truths that we were never what you wanted us to be."

Y/n took a deep inhale, the only indicator of her emotions at the moment while still processing his words and asked her final question while still staring at the wall behind him, "Who knew?"

Azriel was confused for a minute because after all that he had just confessed, she only asked that? Not to mention how much it was killing him to not understand her current emotions and expressions as y/n stayed completely unflinching, staring at the wall and expecting an answer from him. So, with a shameful sigh, the spymaster replied, "Everyone knew."

At that moment, y/n knew 2 things with clarity. First, never should you trust someone, no matter how close you are with them. Never should you give your heart to someone because in the end, they shall shatter it anyway. In this life, you are always on your own. Y/n has always been alone even after joining Rhys, y/n walked her own lonely road. Second, her "family" were traitorous liars. For the past 2 years as y/n descended back into her depressive moments, as she got flashbacks of those horrible times from her youth spent in the Illyrian village, as her panic attacks and insecurities started to resurface, the inner circle did nothing to pull her out of it. But what else would you expect from them? of course they would protect Azriel and his actions, no matter how disgusti-

"Y/n? please talk to me, I am going mad here with your lack of words and emotions. Please sweetheart." as Azriel's hand made contact with y/n's wrist, it was as if an electric shock brought her back to life.

Y/n slapped him right across the face as she said her next words in a tone so cruel and unfeeling, her enemies did not even hear that tone before meeting their death's at her hands, "If you touch me again, my knife shall find it's mark between your eyes, so unless you do not want to leave your precious mate a widow so soon, I suggest you get the fuck out of my sight, shadowsinger."

"Y/n ple-"

"Oh and, since you are such a loyal dog to him, do tell your rotten high lord that I am leaving his rotten court. I shall be gone by sunrise."

As she turned to leave his office throught he backdoor, Azriel did something that Y/n had never known him capable of doing. He fell on his knees as tears threatened to spill from his eyes and begged in a voice so shaky, y/n could only think whether he was even real.

"Y/n I beg you, let us talk properly, Gwyn kept telling me how I must let you know. That she hates being a secret but I was such a coward I-I..plea-"

"I do not care what Gwyn has to say. Save your tears and pleas for someone who cares Azriel, you are right, you are a coward and perhaps you always were one for playing with my feelings in such a cruel way. Do not come after me or I swear I won't hesitate to end you with my bare hands."

With that, y/n turned her back on the male for whom she would once move the mountains for, for whom she would sacrifice herself for. The male whom she loved so much and yet, this whole time he toyed with her, he saw her as a placeholder. What a blind fool have you been y/n.

The second y/n made sure that Azriel left the house, she broke down in tears. For the first time in a very long time, y/n cried unstoppable tears. But that moment came to an abrupt end as she heard a voice. Whether it was within her mind or from somewhere else she did not know and did not care because even though the voice sounded so far away, she got this immediate urge within her soul to go find it.

Deep down, y/n knew she should let it be, that she is possibly imagining things and that she should start packing now but that urge within her tightened as if wanting her to go find the source of the voice. So, with a final wipe of her tears, y/n stood and leapt through her window, spreading her wings and following that string to reach the distant voice.

As y/n began nearing the source of the sound, she realized that it is coming from the house of wind. She should have turned around and left at that second because seeing this house now only brought back Azriels words about how he spent his time here with Gwyn. Atleast that is what the y/n who was not possesed by an urge would do. But alas, this thread only grew stronger within her, leaving her no other choice.

As she began walking down the halls of the house, y/n looked back on all her memories with the inner circle here. Once, those memories would have made her smile fondly but now, they only make her feel anger and disgust. They knew this whole time...such liars, such tra-

No...this could not be it. The urge within her must have been playing a foolish trick because no way was the voice coming from this room. But that urge within her had died down as if finally only the double doors in front of y/n were stopping her from getting to the voice. But this room wasn't just any room. It was the warded room containing all 3 objects of the Trove AND the Book of Breathings.

From here, she could clearly hear the ugly, hissing voice of the book saying, "Welcome, The Terror."

"Why are you hesitating? Open the door child, open it."

As if on cue, the wards around the room disappeared and the doors opened for her. Y/n could only be confused for a second before an unknown power forced her to walk into the area. And there it was, that book sitting on the circular table in the middle of the room, beckoning for her to come closer.

"The Iron Phoenix, you finally came to learn your destiny."

Y/n scoffed as she looked at the silly book from a distance and said, "Did you truly waste my time by making me come to you so that you could spit your nonsense at me? I have enough to deal with already, I do not need another headache from you."

As she turned around to leave, the book hissed loudly, "Do not mock me you fool, I know your deepest secret Winged Fury, a secret so precious not even your once beloved lover knows."

At that, y/n turned around with a shocked expression all over her face and asked, "How? How do you know of it?"

"You can not know more than me, Valkyrie, I am the one who knows it all."

It seems today was the day when y/n had to find out just how little she knows about everything. She had enough, and this stupid book will be the unfortunate one to be the outlet of her emotions. Furious, she took quick strides to reach it as she began, "How dare you?! you call me here to spit nothing of value at me while I just went through the wo-"

A sudden wave of power hit her as y/n felt like she was stuck in one place right in front of the book. Her walls, her mental walls they...they were being melted down as she felt her mind fall into some hypnotic spells.

With a voice so beautiful and eerily soothing, the book says, "Open me, open me Braveheart and see your true destiny."

Somewhere, the last sane part of her was telling y/n that this was wrong, that whatever will happen once she opens the book won't be good. Unfortunately, y/n seemed unable to follow that voice as her fingers made contact with the cover of the ancient book and flipped it open.

The book started flipping its own pages until it landed on the one with language so old, y/n knew that it was not remembered within the past history. Her mouth began moving against her will as she began saying the words on the book in such an experienced manner, it felt as if the ancient object had posessed her.

At some point, y/n could hear distant voices...was that Rhys? Az? Cas? or no, no maybe that is Nesta or another female who is screaming? Y/n could not move, could not think, as if her sole purpose was to finish the spell. She could distantly feel her body loosing its physicality. Was she disappearing? Was she becoming a ghost?

As she was saying the final words of the book, y/n turned around to find everyone from the inner circle in the room trying to get closer to her. Despair was all over their faces but it was Azriels tear striken face that y/n saw for the last time before darkness welcomed her.

"You are home now, Stormbreaker, you are home."

"Now, you shall unfold your true destiny."

With a jolt, y/n shot her eyes open and got up from...was this a grassy hill? as she turned to look behind her, there was a small lake with a white...is that a deer? What is this place? Where was she?

But y/n did not get to explore anything else as she felt the cool edge of a knife press into her throat from behind as a male voice said to her, "You move, you die."

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

A/n: Damn this was fun to write! What secret does y/n have? I did leave a very tiny clue on that for anyone who might find it;) Anyway, I know most of you were maybe expecting Az to cheat with Elain but i am a Gwynriel shipper through and through and just could not think of Elain being such a homwrecker. Of course I am pretty sure Gwyn isn't one either butttt just for the sake of plot ya know. This won't be the last time we see the acotar characters as they will appear hopefully in the later chapters. But for now, sit back and watch y/n's new journey in this new world.

[storyarcscribe]

Judgement

Namor x Reader

Word Count: 870

Summary: You chose humanity over your heart. And now you were here to face judgement by the person who shattered it.

A/N: No Namor fics yet? *Thanos Voice* Fine…. I’ll do it myself. (LMK if we are digging this for a part 2 lol)

Warnings: 18+ Only, Lil smut (if I do a part 2 there will be more lol), angst, implied previous smut, possessiveness, suicidal thoughts, war, wakanda forever spoilers, possible incorrect Mayan language translation (tried my best with research but if anyone out there has feedback please let me know!!!)

Masterlist and How to Send a Prompt

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

-

You shouldn’t be here.

War raged, and yet you found yourself on the sand, standing at the edge of a turbulent ocean. The waves churned just as turmoil stirred in your veins. Your guilted thoughts raced, tears filling your eyes.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

You stepped into the surf, too numb to the feeling of its icy waters.

I deserve this.

Forgive me.

The water stilled, as if in the eye of the hurricane.

And then, he emerged from the surface, molten eyes filled with wrath.

The wrath of a god.

Ku'ku'lkán.

Namor.

You fell to your knees, sand biting into the skin, transfixed by his fury.

He was just as you remembered so long ago…. So painfully beautiful, like the sight of a wave eroding a cliff side.

He became more than a god to you. Friend. Companion. Lover.

In the beginning, all he asked for was your loyalty and silence on him and his people. You gave him not only this but love. In return, he revealed himself parts of himself to you in those moments together, slowly showing you all of himself over time.

He gifted you something he never gave to anyone on land.

Trust and devotion.

You were gladly blinded by this dream of a man and woman in love... A man who made you laugh so hard until your sides hurt, painted you beautiful stories of his kingdom with words, brought you art and trinkets from the depths of his home, confided in you, taught you his mother’s tongue, and coaxed your utter undoing each night with his hands, his mouth, and his body.

He was the water, current, waves, and the depths of an ocean and people.

You fell in love with a god.

But a god cannot love a person who betrayed him and his people.

He chose war against humanity instead of you.

And you chose humanity instead of your heart.

He promised to kill you if you ever stepped into an ocean again the day you parted.

You deserved his wrath, forsaking him for the world above. This war had waged too long with violence committed on both sides, but the people of Talokan, who you had come to love through Namor, were being slaughtered. The guilt disintegrated what left of your heart remained. And you came here before your anguish consumes you, knowing it was would be the end.

You didn’t realize your head had bowed in shame until you felt the cool blade of his spear tuck under your chin, lifting it up.

His face was blurred in your tear-soaked vision, but you could see eyes churned with an emotion you feared to never see….

Rage. Anguish.

Your tears flowed silently, pinching your lips together for fear of choking on your breath.

He just stood there, the pressure of the blade never increasing or decreasing. He had seen battle since you last saw him, three distinct claw marks scarring his cheek. You ached for him and his suffering in this war. If only you stayed. If only you chose him.

If only.

If only.

If only.

And then the blade left your chin. He slammed the tip of it into the ocean floor, the sound of it rippling across the water.

Namor extended his hand.

You didn’t hesitate to place it in his, the warmth of his hand enveloping yours like the sun.

Namor’s eyes had calmed, the tempest in them before now a gentle current. You were lulled by them as he brought you to your feet.

He pulled you with him further into the water, his eyes remaining fixed upon yours.

And once you were weightless in the ocean, he pulled you to him, your body flush against his own with hand wrapped around your back. You’re warmed, the memories and feeling of him radiating through your body.

He cupped your cheek with one hand.

His decision was made, eyes softening.

Forgiveness.

Namor chose forgiveness.

And then you broke, tears continuing to fall as you sobbed. “Ma'taali'teeni' ajawo’.”

I’m sorry, my king.

That same hand gripped the back of your neck, your face now tipped up to meet his own. You could barely breathe as his gaze burned through your own.

And he breathed one word, carving it into your soul.

Mine.

His mouth crashed into yours, coaxing it open where he poured his fury, rage, forgiveness, and love with your own. He stole your breath, suffocating it as he adored your lips, your jaw, your neck. He repeated the word to you over and over again. Your core pulsed with the heartbeat rushing through your ears.

And then he murmured new words in whispers over and over your skin.

In k'aatech.

I love you.

You whimpered, tilting your head to the sky and arching into him as his adoration became desperate. He lavished an open kiss on the pendant at the base of your neck… A gift he gave you the first night he made love to you.

You were his that day long before he spoke the words to you now.

And then his mouth found yours again before he pulled you under a swelling wave, sending you both beneath the surface into that vast, endless blue.

To his home.

To Talokan.

-

A/N: TENOCH ILY I AM NOT OVER THIS MAN AND THIS MOVIEEE

Update: part 2 is being worked on 🫶😽

[call-me-maggie13]

My late 40s to early 50s boss just asked what’s wrong with 18-25 year olds these days

And as a 21 year old all I could think was

The world has been on fire since we were born and we’ve been told the adults are putting it out and now we’re old enough to realize they’ve been pouring kerosene on the flames instead of water.

Before my first birthday, 9/11 happened and the world wouldn’t let us forget it. When I was 6 years old, on September 11th, my teacher sat us down in front of a tv and showed us footage of 9/11 and then told us we weren’t allowed to cry. She said that it was real and those were real people jumping from the building because jumping was a faster death than burning.

When I was 7 years old, the economy collapsed and my family went from lower middle class to poverty, we went from healthy home cooked meals every night to mac and cheese and beans for weeks in a row. We started skipping holidays because mom and dad couldn’t keep the lights on and buy us new toys. We started wearing clothes and shoes until they fell apart.

When I was 11 years old, Sandy Hook was attacked by a grown man with a gun and 26 children and teachers were brutally murdered. My teachers never looked at us the same and I haven’t felt safe in a school since. After that, once a month we would have active shooter drills and we were taught to fight and cause as much damage as possible if an armed man entered our classroom because it gave other classes a few extra seconds to escape, it gave our siblings a few extra breaths of safety. We were taught to cover ourselves in other students blood and play dead if we weren’t hit, we were taught that we weren’t safe and we wouldn’t be safe as long as we were in school.

When I was 15 years old, my high school art teacher locked us in the classroom and told us if we heard gunshots we should line the desks up lengthwise so that they reached the other wall because that would be harder to break through than a barricade. She told us that she knew about the threats and she wouldn’t judge any of us that wanted to leave. She told us to get our siblings and stay in the buildings as long as possible, to duck in between the cars so we couldn’t be seen until we got to ours. She told us about the trail behind the auto shop that was lined with trees and led off campus. I got my brother and his friends and we left, we spent the day sitting on the floor in my living room waiting for a phone call that the people we left behind were dying.

Two weeks later, one of my friends dragged me out of a football game and forced me to go home with him. He grabbed my brothers and my best friend and forced the six of us into a two seater car before he would tell us anything. His mom worked for the school board and had told him the police found an active bomb under the bleachers in the student section, and they weren’t informing anyone because they didn’t want to incite panic.

When I was 16 years old, ISIS set off a bomb at a pop concert in Britain and killed 22 people, injuring at least 100 more. The next day at school, our teachers went over how to stay safe if we ever experienced something like that. They told us the most important thing to remember was to not remove any shrapnel because it could be keeping us from bleeding out, they said it was more important to get yourself out safely before you worried about anyone else.

When I was 18 years old, my teachers stopped teaching and put the news up on the projector and we watched as the Notre-Dame burned. The boy I had sat next to since second grade spent the entire day trying to call his sister who was studying abroad in Paris, I watched this kid I had never even seen frown fall apart in English because she wouldn’t pick up the phone. We didn’t know it at the time, but she was okay.

Six months later, my history teacher put the news on the projector again for another fire. This time, we watched as an entire continent burned for three months. We watched their sky turned orange from the smoke and their wildlife drowned in pools because they were trying to escape the heat.

When I was 19 years old, the whole world shut down because of a global pandemic. I didn’t meet a single new person for eight months, despite the fact that I had just moved across the country. I watched as people didn’t wear masks and spread it to everyone around them, I was so scared when I went back to my room every night because my roommate was immunocompromised and I was terrified I would give her Covid and kill her.

Just two months later, I watched a video of a black man being murdered by police officers. I watched the world around me explode after George Floyd’s death, people destroying businesses and police stations. I watched some of my friends realize police officers didn’t exist to keep them safe, they existed to keep the people in power in power. I learned that some of the people I had grown up with would rather watch a black man die than admit that maybe, maybe, the system was broken.

When I was 20 years old, I went to the mall with a friend to buy a birthday present and I was pulled to the ground by a twelve-year-old girl after gunshots went off in the mall. I held this child’s hands as she cried for two hours until we were evacuated by police, and then I waited with her outside and helped her look for her mom. I gave her my phone to call her mom and I watched as she called the number over and over and never got a reply. I waited with her until a police officer took her to the station to try to find out more information about the girl’s mom, I hugged this girl I had never seen before and I wished her the best. I never found out what happened to her or her mom, it keeps me up at night sometimes worrying that this little girl was orphaned.

When I was 21 years old, I started working at a daycare and exactly a week later, Uvalde happened and I found myself crying because my students are the same age those kids were. When they came in after school the next day, one of them had asked me if I had heard about Uvalde and I told her I had, I asked her if she was scared of going to school because of it. Her reply broke my heart. “We practice for it every week so that when it happens to us, we know what to do. I’m just worried that the shooter is going to start in my baby sister’s classroom and not mine.” I listened as other students with younger siblings agreed with her, one of them saying “I would take fifty bullets, if I had to to keep my little brother safe.”

Early this year, I watched Russia launched bombs into Ukraine, blowing up churches and schools and hospitals and apartment buildings. I watched as the estimated death count rose from the hundreds to the thousands to the tens of thousands. I watched men send their wives and children to bordering countries for refuge while they stayed behind to fight, knowing they would probably never see each other again.

Just four months ago, I watched as my right to medical privacy got taken away. I watched my old roommate fall apart because she was denied the right to have her dead fetus removed from her body for almost two days, I worried every time I looked away from her that the next time I saw her would be in a casket. I watched as the women around me realized the military-grade weapons that had torn children in classrooms apart were protected by the government but our bodies weren’t.

There is nothing “wrong” with my generation, we’ve experienced all these things as children and were expected to respond with patriotism for a country that continuously sacrificed their children for the “right” to military-grade weapons, that took away my freedom of choice. We are tired, we were told the world was a wonderful place then shown, at every step, how the world was a place of destruction and pain. And we are angry. We are angry because no one but us seems to be trying to fix anything. And we are scared. We are scared because our children, our nieces and nephews, our cousins and our friends children are growing up in a world that won’t protect them.

[kazudesuu]

sukuna x gn! reader

cw : angst with comfort

i am currently so obsessed with jjk you have no idea.

— reunited again

: sukuna could not love, he thought he couldn’t but you proved him wrong.

sukuna didn’t believe he was capable of love. he was the king of curses, a being made and fuelled by hatred.

he was always seen with a scowl, a smirk perhaps on a good day, or when he’s fighting a particular interesting opponent. other than that, days were mundane for him.

of course, that all changed when you entered his life. a young one with a cursed technique that allowed you to fight on par with him.

you were interesting and sukuna was interested in you.

during the times the you and sukuna weren’t fighting each other, you fought others instead. the heian era dominated by both of you. if anyone back then were to hear either of your names, they were either angry or scared.

some days, you would drag sukuna out to a village, wanting to explore the place. people bowed their heads as you passed, sukuna always ahead of you.

“hey sukuna, try this dango!” you waved the treat in front of him, grinning brightly. the king of curses gave you a bored look before he eventually snatched it out of your hands. you watched in anticipation as he ate one of the balls, wanting to get his opinion on it. if he hated you, you would just kill the store owner.

after a moment of thought, sukuna passed the stick back to you.

“it tastes disgusting,” he spits. you pouted and disintegrated the rest of it. you turned away from the store, too disappointed to kill the owner.

“man, you don’t like anything do you?” you mumbled, kicking a stone away like a child. sukuna almost grins at the sight.

your statement wasn’t true. he liked fighting, he liked the fear in people’s eyes when they saw him, he liked humbling the jujutsu sorcerers who wanted to kill him. he eyes flicked to your figure, walking just a step behind him as you mumbled something incoherent.

he liked you too.

the fact was confirmed when he found himself running to catch your body as you fell with a sword through your abdomen. he watched as blood poured from your mouth.

time felt disoriented as sukuna saw the life in your eyes begin to fade away. he couldn’t do anything to stop it, couldn’t do anything as your body went slowly went limp, couldn’t do anything when you told him three words that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

you died without sukuna telling you how much you meant for him. you died with his heart in your hands. you died unknowing that you taught sukuna how to love.

sukuna finally believed he was capable of love, and at the same time, he’d also become capable of tears.

when sukuna awakened in itadori yuuji’s body, he was met with a familiar sight.

you were as beautiful as the day he lost you, if not even more so.

you stood in front of a younger black-haired male, glaring at him with those eyes he loved so much. “megumi, retreat first.” the male obeyed, running in the opposite direction.

you were afraid that sukuna would follow him and you were ready to put your life on the line to protect the first year at all costs. in your clenched fists, cursed energy was pulsing, ready to activate and take sukuna on if needed.

sukuna and you stared at each other, neither of your moving. your heart was pounding against your rib cage. fear or adrenaline, you didn’t know. what you do know was that you needed to stay alive until gojo arrived.

the king of curses took a step towards you, you took three steps back.

“you do not remember me,” sukuna said, his voice much softer than you expected.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “you’re ryomen sukuna, king of curses,” you state.

sukuna shakes his head. “so this is how the gods wanted it to be.” he couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh. his voice reverberated through the air and you felt uncomfortable. sukuna took another step towards you, then another and another.

you backed away slowly, cautiously. one wrong move and you’d be dead.

“very well then, i’ll help you to recall.” in a blink of an eye, sukuna was in front of you, pressing his middle and ring finger to your temple. then, you saw it.

memories of you in your past life with sukuna played before your eyes. it was like watching a movie, except you were the main character in each and every scene. everything rushed back you and when you came back to your senses, you realised you were in sukuna’s arm.

the king of curses would have never allowed anyone to touch him. they would be killed in an instant. but as you laid in his warmth, you realised you weren’t just anyone.

“missed me?” sukuna smirked.

you blinked back tears you didn’t even know you were holding in. sukuna’s hand wrapped around yours while you processed what you’ve just witnessed.

after so many years, the two of you were finally reunited, albeit under different circumstances. but nonetheless reunited.

and this time sukuna thought to himself i won’t let you go so easily again.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Pack mom!Stiles steter fics?

i anon! @kevaaronday made this list for you.

How A Pack Should Be by xcaellachx (1/1 | 25,071 | Teen | Steter) Ever since the Nogitsune caused havoc and nearly killed several people, Stiles had been alone. No texts, no emails, calls, nothing. Even his father had become distant and no longer acted when Stiles woke screaming in the night.

Giving the Hale/McCall pack one more chance, Stiles arrives at the loft for the pack meeting and is greeted by an unfathomable violent attack. From nearly every pack member.

After being warned he would be killed if he stayed in California, Peter and the few who supported Stiles, left for a new pack who loved them, taught them and made them a pack with a surprising new alpha.

In Violent Devotion by friendlyfiction (4/12 | 23,331 | Mature | Steter) 10 years ago, Peter Hale ran away from Beacon Hills and the promise that he made to a boy in love for the first time.

10 years ago, Stiles woke up in bed alone, left with broken promises and empty bed sheets.

In the decade since, they’ve both grown and changed, putting years and miles between themselves and the memory of what almost was until disparate circumstances bring these two men back to Beacon Hills, where their lives will once again collide.

They may be different people now, but will they still feel that same pull of violent devotion that drew them together in the first place?

All I Need Is You (And Cookies) by SincerelyLittle (13/13 | 18,196 | Gen | Steter) “Daddy Stiles!” those are the words that ring out the Hale’s backyard, everything seems to stand still for a moment while Stiles opens his eyes to the sight of long brown hair, beautiful brown eyes and a freckled face. He doesn’t blame anyone for believing the kid when she looks so convincingly like a daughter of his own would.

Since said child is so cute, he can forgive her for potentially starting world war 3 - or at least he thought he could until the next words were "Daddy Peter and I brought cookies!" At least he'll have cookies in the middle of battle.

No Grave Can Hold My Body Down by Ravenxxx97 (3/? | 9,481 | Explicit | Steter) Still wracked with guilt months after Peter's death, Stiles struggles to move on from the loss while everyone else focuses on the Kanima. His dreams are plagued with memories of Peter, both good and bad. After getting kidnapped by Gerard the night of the lacrosse game, Stiles is faced with the Argents' lies and is pushed to his limits as he fights to rescue himself, Erica, and Boyd. When he arrives to the warehouse to rescue Derek from Gerard and Allison, his world is turned upside down once again when he finds Peter Hale there, alive and breathing as if everything from the past few months never happened.

Can things between them be repaired?

I Crave Your Bite ( I belong to you ) by Suzuki_Motors (1/1 | 4,132 | Explicit | Steter) Stiles has known for awhile now that he wanted the bite. So what's stopping him when Derek would love to gift him such a thing?

[hxnbi]

Heyy!I love your writing abt the windbreaker I was wondering since your Chinese Is it possible to make smth hayato suo x chinese!reader??Im dying to have content abt chinese reader! Like when we use hanfu or douyin makeup just something abt chinese culture 🫶 When I first watch it i fell inlove because of the recognition 😭🫶 hope its not too much to ask thankyou!

yesss i love suos design and his character! he's defo my fav in the story so far. this is my first request so i hope it lives up to your expectations :) much of the info i gathered on him was from the wiki so hopefully the info is accurate enough

look at this lil bean 🥹

HAYATO SUO | 蘇枋 隼飛  ─ 🧧 °. ⁺ ♡

Admittedly, there aren't many people who look and talk like SUO, so he stands out like a sore thumb to the average onlooker. Suo is overall one of the most mysterious characters. His trademark tassel earrings and the Chinese-styled clothing that Suo likes to wear are intriguing and enigmatic. He definitely has that type of presence that's bound to make anyone take another glance. 

So when he sees you at the cafe where Kotoha works, finding you drinking a cup of tea with the grace of a seasoned connoisseur, he's all but smitten if not intrigued by your aura. The way that you presented yourself went far beyond than just how your appearance looked, though he was certainly entranced by that as well. 

That was the first time he encountered you, and unbeknownst to him, that was certainly not the last. As the next time would be when you caught sight of him "beating up" a couple of gangsters who had previously bothered Nirei, pissing him off enough for Suo to use his skills in mixed martial arts to intervene.

“Is that Aikido or Kung Fu? Hm, or perhaps both."

Suo turned to address the voice, finding that familiar face peering down at him, seemingly unfazed by the presence of the gangsters' bodies. 

Suo smiled. "I don't know. My master was self-taught and blended various martial arts techniques."

"Ah, mixed martial arts. How nice," you remarked.

The fact that you could identify so easily his emotions. Perhaps you were like him, if not familiar with the feelings.

From then on, Suo would see more of you, and so did you see more of him, much like a moth to a flame. Time and time again, he found himself crossing paths with you in this quaint café, each encounter leaving him more intrigued than the last. Suo couldn't help but notice the elegance emanating from your every gesture, from the subtle grace that seemed to cloak you like a second skin. 

"Did you want a cup as well? I have more to share," you offered, noticing how Suo had been looking at you for a moment, motioning towards the untouched teacup beside you. 

"If you are concerned if it is poisoned, then I assure you, it is not," you answered calmly as you proceeded to take another sip of your tea, further proving that it was indeed not poisoned, but that wasn't what Suo was curious about.

"Oh, no. I apologize if that's how it came across," Suo admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "The smell is rather enticing and... familiar."

"Oh? Do tell," you encouraged, patting the seat next to you with an inviting smile.

His lips purse into a thin line before chuckling. "Why, it's nothing special. It just reminds me of past days."

With a blink, you hummed, hesitant to ask any further than that. As if you already knew. "I see."

And as fate would have it, you found yourself sharing more cups of tea with him amidst the cozy atmosphere of the cafe that surprised even the likes of Kotoha, watching the bond between you two with a keen eye. 

Suo being vulnerable may as well be a rarity, but that's exactly the way he felt when he and you would chat over tea. You were just as authentic when he first saw you. To be frank, you both were like two birds of a feather, finding solace in each other's company. A comfortable silence that Suo grew to cherish, much to the astonishment of those in Furin, who would have the uncomfortable experience of coming into the cafe to eat, only to see Suo smiling with a person wearing similarly styled clothes to him, with the same calm-like demeanour and the same mannerisms.

You smiled, pouring another round of fragrant oolong tea. "Your knowledge is truly impressive. It's a rare quality to encounter." 

Suo nodded, recalling knowing the hooligans you were referring to, that being Sakura and Sugishita during one of the many times they fought in the middle of Kotoha's cafe and Nirei standing on the sidelines, shaking in dread.

"I'm flattered," he admitted, "but my knowledge only is minimal compared to the likes of yourself."

You chuckled softly, the sound mingling with the soft clatter of the teacups. "I suppose it's hard to conceal one's roots."

'Hard to hide where you come from, huh…?' Suo mused, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. As Suo's gaze lingered on you, his interest appeared to deepen beyond casual conversation

Perhaps, it was worth staying just a bit longer.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[honeylemonteaasblog]

A Little Too Much

inspiration: you were never too much and anyone who says you are should go find less

summary: your boys always got your back, wether it's from someone or the voices in your head

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: a little angst but not much, a little fluff but not much (maybe too much…), healing journey

word count: 3 k

warning (not detailed): emotional abuse, implied violence [overprotective BTS with a you’re-my-entire-world-and-without-you-life-is-meaningless kind of love]

“What did you just say to her?” Namjoon’s voice was hard as it cut through the hallway. You wanted to peer around the man’s broad shoulders to see him, but the man tightened his grip to keep you in place. Your eyes still flickered back and forth in an effort to catch a glimpse of Namjoon though.

The man tossed Namjoon a look over his shoulder. “She your’s?” He spoke like you were just some procession to own. It was as if you were merely a thing hold. He hadn’t even bothered to look at you when he spoke, reinforcing the idea that you weren’t the one in charge of your own life. When his eyes found you again he was looking at your body. He never did meet your eyes. And that wasn’t out of respect, rather that they didn’t mean anything to him. Not like the rest of your body might.

“Let her go.” Yoongi’s voice rang out. Instead of Namjoon’s deadly, but calm question, Yoongi’s voice was all rage and power. His voice sounded like death personified. You shivered as memories of Yoongi’s dominating voice pass through your head. “I won’t ask again.” It’s like he was making a promise to violence.

You could hear their footsteps echo throughout the empty hall, but they didn’t seem close enough yet. You tried to peak around the man’s shoulder again, but he pushed you back causing your head to hit the wall. You let out a muffled yelp. The man didn’t even look towards you.

He shifted to look towards Namjoon and Yoongi, but didn’t let go of you. Instead he just pulled you along with him as if you were merely a doll that children were fighting over. His grip tightened and you knew that it was going to bruise.

Honestly, the fact that he thought that you were some thing to drag around hurt more than his grip. You felt your shoulders bow inwards. It was like you truly thought that if you were small enough he might forget you were there. You wanted him to let go of you, but you were too scared to move let alone say anything. And your head still hurt from hitting the wall earlier.

It probably wasn’t the best, but you had learned early on in life that men thought that they could take whatever they wanted— that they were entitled to take what they want— and the more you fought the worse it was. So no it wasn’t that you wanted to be in this situation, backed against a wall by a complete stranger, but it had also been ingrained into your head that if you went with it, it would hurt less.

It’s not fair to blame yourself for your trauma responses. It’s not fair to blame yourself for not doing better when you are simply trying to protect yourself in the only way you know how to. Despite that simplicity, it’s something that many people tend to forget.

In that moment you were reminded of a time when you had been taught that you needed to be less. You definitely needed to talk less, but it would also be good if you thought less too.

You hadn’t felt like a person in those moments. You didn’t feel worthy of anything or anyone. You didn’t feel like you were valued. Instead you felt like a thing that would be fought over but quickly tossed aside once they got bored. And you had a feeling that the man currently holding your arm in a bruising grip got bored very easily.

Needless to say that was before meeting the boys who had tried so hard to help you change those thoughts. But here you were, being thrown right back in. It hurts how little control we have over our own thoughts sometimes. It’s so easy to be swallowed up by the past.

You had always been told that you were too much. You were told that your love was suffocating. You were told that you tried too hard and it wasn’t a good look. You were told that you just needed to relax, as if it were ever that simple.

So you had also spent a lot of time trying to be less, all in an effort to make other people feel more comfortable. You shoved all of these pieces of yourself deep down into a tiny box buried within your heart. You could almost pretend like those pieces didn’t exist at all. At the time, you thought that if you pretended to be less, that you might be more likable— more palatable. And deep down all you wanted was to feel accepted. If you had to lose parts of yourself you thought that it may just be worth it.

Overtime, you had started to forget just how special you really were. You had been playing a part for so long that you actually started to believe all those toxic voices in your heard. The ones that would twist your reality and punish you for taking up space. You had begun to lose your sense of wonder and tended to see the world in more black and white than color.

You had started to feel like less of a person and more of a thing to be controlled.

And before you truly realized it, you were the one feeling uncomfortable, but no one else seemed to mind. No one had tried to make you feel comfortable despite you trying so hard for others. You weren’t comforted or hugged because that would require others to care about you, or at the very least notice.

Instead you were shoved to the side so people could pretend like you weren’t hurting. People don’t like to think about the fact that others are living their own lives, especially when people are in pain. For some reason, other people’s pain is an unbelievably uncomfortable thing for people to sit with; however, that really shouldn’t be a surprising revelation.

It wasn’t until the boys crashed into your life that your perspective changed. Since then the seven of them had made it their mission to fight off anything that told you should be less. Sometimes it ended in physical fights with the people who haunted your past. Other times, they had to settle for comforting words and cuddles in an effort to fight the voices in your head. For them, both were equally important.

They never wanted to you to feel uncomfortable again. They wanted to you to feel safe and happy, but they especially wanted you to feel safe and happy with them. Bonus points if it was while in their arms.

You flinched when the man behind you abruptly shoved you towards Yoongi and Namjoon, causing you to trip over your feet and fall forwards. They both lunged for you. He tried to run but you didn’t even bother looking, choosing to wrap your arms around Namjoon, who had reached you first. You buried your head in his neck and his arms tightened around your waist. You felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head; it was a stark contrast to the harshness of the past half an hour.

With his arms around you, you felt safe. You always did with the boys. When they hold you, you feel like nothing could harm you. You liked to think that their hugs gave you bullet proof skin.

You could hear the man yelling behind you and Hoseok’s and Jin’s loud voices, but you decided you liked hiding in Namjoon’s embrace much more than facing whatever reality awaited you.

You’ve seen Hoseok’s deadly right hook before. You can imagine Jimin’s sadistic smirk as he plays with his switchblade. And Jin will be donning that unemotional mask that he likes to use to scare the people who threaten you. There is nothing as terrifying as not knowing what is going on in someone’s head.

Besides, Namjoon didn’t seem to mind holding you. If anything his grip tightened when the yelling started like he knew that the loud voices might upset you. So you held him tighter too.

You didn’t flinch like you normally would if you were to feel a hand rub along your spine, but it was gentle. And you think that deep down, when your being held by one of the boys, you know that they would never let any harm come to you. It’s not that you think that they would when you’re not in their arms, but you know they would never let anyone else close enough to touch you when you’re in their embrace. Well, anyone besides them that is.

They really are that possessive.

Taehyung pulls you out of Namjoon’s embrace who leaves an apologetic kiss on your forehead before heading over towards the others.

“Sweetheart, let’s go wait in the car.” Taehyung coaxes you towards the car while holding you to his chest like he’s worried that if one of them isn’t holding you, you might fall apart. He isn’t completely sure what happened before Yoongi and Namjoon got here, but he isn’t willing to take any chances.

None of them are when it comes to you, and your safety.

Jungkook is waiting in the car when the two of you get there. He quickly pulls you out of Taehyung’s embrace and further into the car. Well, more like into his lap. Your legs straddle his waist as you bury your face into his chest. You feel his chest rumble with his soft laughter and his hands come up to cradle your head and neck. You’re willing to bet that he’s trying to silently ask Taehyung if you’re okay over your head.

“Princess” Jungkook calls for your attention and you reluctantly look up at him. It’s not that you don’t love looking at his doe eyes, but you really loved hiding in his chest. Especially when he is laughing. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”

You love that he knows not to ask you if you’re okay. He can already guess that you’re not. And he doesn’t need you to confirm that for him.

You love that he doesn’t force you to talk about anything even though you are sure that he wants answers. He prioritizes your needs over the answers that may make him more comfortable. In that moment his comfort isn’t the one that matters.

Jungkook also knows that you aren’t used to having people to rely on. Too many people have told you that you’re emotions are too much and that you need to tone it down. So he knows that you may not want to rely on him, too worried about what they may think of you, but he also wants to smother those voices.

If he could physically touch those toxic voices they would already have broken necks.

“You can feel however you want to feel, Sweetheart.” Jungkook nods at Tae’s words. It hurts them to see the traces of emotional abuse that you’ve experienced. And it really hurts that they know that they’ll never be able to completely remove those thoughts. However, that doesn’t stop them from doing everything in their power to minimize those voices and provide as much reinforcement as they can.

“Princess.” Jungkook waits until you meet his eyes so you can see how serious he is. “You were never too much. And you never could be too much. I’m so sorry that people made you think that and that they turned your mind against you.” He presses a kiss to your temple as if it could heal your mind. It was something that the boys had all told you before, but you felt your heart swell every time they said it. It was probably why they kept telling you; they could see the way that their words impacted you.

“He’s right, Sweetheart. It was never your fault. We get that it’s really hard to acknowledge that, especially when it’s so much easier to blame ourselves. But it was never you.” His hands run up and down your spine and the repetitive movement makes you a little sleepy. But you can’t help but feel comforted by them.

“We know that it’s hard to believe that, but we’ll always be here to remind you.” Jungkook and Taehyung look at you with such determination that it makes some of those toxic voices in your head go quiet because when they look at you like that it makes you think that they’re right. It makes you think that it was never your fault no matter how many times you were told that it was.

You aren’t ready to fully believe that, the abuse has penetrated your mind too deeply for it all just to go away, but the more time you spend with your boys the more that you’re starting to see it the way that they do. It fills you with hope so even though you know that you’re not healed, you know that you are healing.

It is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world.

The boys wish that they could make it all go away with the snap of their fingers. They wish that they were able to fix all of your problems and remove any and all barriers to your happiness, but they also know that there are somethings that they can’t just fix for you. So, in those cases they stand by you, hold you, and encourage you because no matter what they will always be there to support you. They’re ten toes behind no matter what.

You smile at his words and pull your gaze away from Jungkook’s to smile at Taehyung. You watch him visibly brighten at your smile like you just gave him a shot of dopamine. They love when you smile. And most of the time, when you smile they can’t help but smile too. They will do whatever they can to make you smile like that.

You deserve the world and they would gladly serve it to you.

The others slide into the car with tense shoulders and angry expressions. When you spin around in Jungkook’s lap to see them, you swear that Jimin has blood on the cuffs of his dress shirt but before you can look closer he’s pulling you out of Jungkook’s lap and into his. “Baby, you scared me.”

You want to reassure him, but you aren’t quite sure how to explain yourself. Instead, you hug him back even tighter. He smiles into your neck which makes you smile too. It’s funny how despite everything Jimin can make you smile so easily. You love that he’s able to make you smile because you can remember a time when even smiling was exhausting. Now though, now it feels effortless around your seven boys.

“Let’s go home, Love.” Jin’s voice pulls your attention away from Jimin. He’s sitting in the passenger seat but turns around to look at you. You watch his eyes rake across your body checking to make sure you’re okay. You love that Jin never tries to hide how much he cares about you. He never tries to minimize his love for you.

He wants you to know that he wants you to be okay. And he would do anything to ensure it.

The boys let you live in your own little bubble for a while longer, but you also know that they’ll want to talk to you. They will want to check in with you because they know that in the past people haven’t cared enough to ask.

They never want you to feel like that again so they always make sure to check in with you. They never want you to suffer in silence ever again, not when they can do something about it. Some might call it overbearing, but they would do whatever they need to ensure that you feel seen. And until you ask them to stop they never will.

You remember asking Hoseok about it once, wondering why they were so protective. It had been when you were first getting to know them. He explained that everyone deserves to feel safe and protected. But he also told you that he likes feeling needed by you. He likes being able to protect you.

Not that he told you this, but the boys also love that shy look you get when one of them steps in or has your back because you haven’t quite realized that they’ll always defend you. A part of him wants to cry for you because someone made you feel like you were alone and that you didn’t have anyone to protect you. So no one can really blame the boys for going overboard. At least that’s what Yoongi always says with a smug smirk, but you catch the way his eyes soften whenever he looks at you.

It is difficult to find the balance between giving you space and never making you question if they care. They want to reassure you, but they also don’t want to overwhelm you. The eight of you are slowly finding that balance, but it’ll take some time.

You secretly love it though. Before the boys, people never showed that they cared so maybe it’s a little toxic, but you have your reasons. You love their overprotective nature that never wants you out of their sight because you’re their whole world. You love that they want to do everything for you, not because you can’t, but because they want to. You love that they will be at your side as soon as you ask because it’s their favorite place to be.

But in that moment of peace on the car ride home, you hug Jimin closer. You close your eyes and let yourself take a moment to see how you really feel because for the first time in your life you know that those feelings are valid. You no longer have to second guess or dull them so others aren’t uncomfortable. You know that the boys will accept you regardless.

You will never be too much for your boys and that makes you feel like you could do anything. You think, with them by your side, you could conquer the world.

[gffa]

i’m fully obsessed with the fact that through multiple comics it’s implied that as devastated bruce would be (or has been, in Jason’s case) to lose any of his kids, losing dick would literally drive him mad. that boy made a man and a father out of him and losing him would be the end of the world

It's a one-two punch of how Dick is the one whose presence in the world gives Bruce hope, that even when they're not talking to each other, Bruce still knows that Dick exists in the world and that there's hope for life and justice and happiness. The world is still worth something if Dick Grayson is in it. Fighting to save people is still worth it, if the little boy he saved that night can still find a life to be happy in. Followed up with the gut-punch of how Dick is the one who came to him the youngest, the one who understands him the most, the one who taught him how to connect with family beyond the people who were in his life from Before. Never underestimate how much Alfred saved Bruce, gave him stability and love and structure that he desperately needed, but Dick was the one who came along and demanded that Bruce open his heart up further, demanded that Bruce expand his world again, demanded that he openly show some affection, demanded all that just by being Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson is his baby even more than the others, no matter how old he gets, some part of Bruce still sees him that way, because that one came to him when he was the youngest and wore his heart so openly that Bruce's own heart ached with every burst of anger and every burst of love from that little boy. Dick is the one that demanded to be seen and loved and made part of both Bruce and Batman's worlds, just by showing up and refusing not to connect with him. Every time he perched himself on a sofa upside down or sat himself on the edge of a table and asked what was wrong and refused to let Bruce brood, he made himself part of the world that Bruce needed to stay sane. Every time he laughed or made a ridiculous joke or eagerly showed what he'd perfected, he made himself part of the light of Bruce's world. Bruce loves all his kids equally, there's no one that he loves "more" than the others, but he has relied on Dick more than the others, Dick is the one that made those inroads to Bruce's heart possible in the first place, and Dick is the one that refuses to be anything other than A Good Outcome. No matter how many times Bruce starts to angst over his mistakes, Dick will say, yeah, you fucked up sometimes, but I love who I am and I love this life you helped give me, and no amount of mistakes you've made will undo that. You saved me and I love you for it. Dick is his ideal dream realized--someone who fights for justice, who understands the darkness of the world but loves openly anyway, someone who knows the mean and dirty things that must be done sometimes, but still cares about everyone, someone who will devote their life to fighting to save people but won't lose himself. Dick is Bruce's ideal version of Batman. Bruce loves Dick because Dick is so easy to love, because even someone who can be as hard to love as Bruce is is so loved by Dick Grayson, and because Dick understands him better than anyone. He loves Dick because he understands him in return, because Dick is always there when Bruce really needs him, yet also stands up on his own, he has become someone Bruce is proud of in a way that even his hell brain can't rip apart. And he loves him because Dick Grayson is the one that made him realize he could open his heart up to accepting new people into his life even after his greatest tragedy. He didn't have to just hold onto what came Before, he could find new family and love them just as much as he loved his parents, that there will be people worth loving in this new world. Bruce loves all of his family, he'd go off the deep end for any of them, but the one that I don't think he'd come back from is the death of Dick Grayson, the loss of the light of their world. That kid made him want to not just be better, but be part of the world again, because Dick Grayson was in it.

[shwaesar]

Some Caesar x Reader HCs

SFW (for now :3c)

You would meet between the events of Dawn and War, but in a timeline where Cornelia was unable to be saved after giving birth to Cornelius. The humans still tried, they tried so hard, but she eventually succumbed and this left Caesar in a perpetual state of grief that he could never fully heal from. He had to stay strong for his sons, for his people. Mourning properly was a luxury he just never awarded himself.

Koba used her death to manipulate the masses into distrust of those that had tried to help her. Caesar knew this was wrong, but a part of him was irrationally blaming them too, so he didn't step in to stop Koba until it was too late. All of this lead to him still being shot, found by the same humans, nursed back to health, and found again by Blue Eyes. (With his mother being killed and later believing Caesar dead too, he was even more easily convinced of the need for war. But his father thankfully managed to bring him back down to earth once they reunited.)

Because of the traumatic events that proceeded you, he's distant at first. It's nothing personal, just how he became with almost everyone after what happened. Especially humans.

But he's not a monster. When you're found in the woods, on the verge of starvation and vulnerable to the elements, he only hesitates a moment before declaring sanctuary for you within his colony. He has his best healers work tirelessly to bring you back to full health while not tending to others, goes on his own hunts to feed you without dipping into the apes rationed meat and foragables, wanting there to be no reason for anyone to object to your stay.

Not that anyone would, mind you. He's their leader, their king, and his word is law. But tensions are still running high, and it's just not a risk worth taking before he can be sure you won't bring trouble to his tribe.

Your first conversation tells you as much. You only meet properly once you're sitting up and eating on your own, the only ones interacting with you before that being his healers.

"You are... getting better?"

Doesn't bother trying to sign, since he's learned to assume humans no longer have the unspoken language.

"Good. You will.... stay. Here. Only here. No leaving this spot, and... only eat what is given to you. Understand?"

It's also the only conversation you have with him, at least for the first few weeks.

Initially, his only motivation is avoiding more death. If he can help it, he never wants to bear witness to death again, his heart just couldn't take it, not yet.

But then you had to go and make yourself at home. Slowly, you start to acclimate. He watches as Maurice takes initiative with you, offering a guiding hand into the rest of their world. You couldn't realistically stay in a healing nest for the rest of your life, after all.

You're taught basic sign, how to weave baskets, how to skin meat and then do the tanning process for furs.. You're better at some things than others, same as most apes, but you take pride in being able to contribute to the community that's housing you, and he definitely takes note of that fact.

Seeing you interact with his sons is what ultimately warms him up to you though. You notice Blue Eyes take an interest in Lake and proceed to tease him about it before offering advice. Obviously courtship and romance work differently with apes than with humans, but you would've caught the gist of how their 'dating' works. You tell Blue Eyes to give her a gift, a small one at first, and if she reacts well to it, to give another that's more meaningful at a later date. He does, and it works, and Blue Eyes is very grateful for your help but HATES that you were right (affectionately).

But then Caesar finds you with Cornelius one day, holding him, telling him human stories to keep him entertained while his father and brother were supposedly busy. It means more than you could possibly know, to be providing an almost maternal presence to his youngest, who was admittedly in need of one. After that, you're officially a part of his colony as far as he's concerned, and god help anyone who tries to suggest otherwise.

Attraction though, that's something not even he was prepared for. It makes sense to a certain extent - Caesar was raised by humans, had only interacted with his own kind when he'd already reached adulthood, so human standards of beauty were something imposed on him from an early age. He knew what it meant to be an attractive human or an unattractive human, and you were definitely the former in his eyes. But to be feeling that attraction himself, this unnatural taboo among apes and humans alike..

It freaks him out a little bit, in all honesty.

You would've just started talking to him more, brief but meaningful conversations here and there, when he starts actively avoiding you. You go days at a time without even spotting him from a distance, and you get this awful feeling that he's upset with you, that you've done something to unintentionally antagonise him. You haven't. He's just feeling a lot of complicated feelings and needs space to sort through them all.

Desire. Embarrassment. Lust. Shame. Guilt.

But once again, Maurice is there to make sure everything works out. He knows what Caesar is feeling, catching him in habits of courtship. Leaving more food than usual at your bedside (you continue to live in the healing nest, even when fully recovered), grooming himself more attentively, his fur bristling when another male gets a little too close for comfort. Maurice doesn't get it, to him you're a close friend but you're still a human. You're weak, hairless, slow, your body shaped in ways that he finds fascinating but odd, and all of those are things apes specifically don't want in a mate. But he cares more for Caesars happiness than understanding it, and decides to provide some much needed mediation.

He talks to Caesar first, calling him out on his obvious infatuation, knowing better than to think the chimp would ever admit it without it being forced out of him. They spend a good while discussing you, and Caesar goes on to list the things he's come to adore about you. Your kindness. Your strength of heart. Your smile, your laugh, your eyes - and slowly, Maurice sort of starts to see what he's talking about. Even if unusual, there's no denying that, hypothetically, you would make a good mate for their leader. The tricky part would be how you respond to the proposal.

Because you are, at the end of the day, human. Even if you feel the same way, there will be a multitude of differences and challenges to overcome if you wanted to make it work. He warns Caesar of that.

But for you, Caesar would climb the tallest mountains. He would scour deserts to bring you water never before drank. He would happily lay down his life so you could wear his pelt, if it meant protecting you from the cold. And, if need be, he'd never bring it up again if you decided against it. Against him.

And that's even more of a big deal than you might think. Because love like that is a human affair.

Before the flu, apes were promiscuous by nature. With their heightened intelligence came the establishment of monogamy, a single mate you want to provide for, to bear children with, to share a nest and resources with. Fondness and affection was their standard for love, in the emotional sense. Biologically, it was a result of territorial instinct. This person is mine, and no one else can have them. Only I will make them happy. Only I am worthy.

Caesar feels all that for you, but the type of intense, all encompassing love he describes is an extremely human thing to feel. He recognises that, and it's one of the reasons he's so scared by it. But Maurice is supportive as ever, and ends up being the best wingman an ape could ask for.

The orangutang ends up instigating subtle conversations with you the next day, under the guise of curiosity. He asks about human relationships. About your customs and standards. About what humans like in a partner. And he takes all the information you give him, to report back to Caesar.

A lot of preparation is made, all in an effort to make you as happy and comfortable as possible. A private fire is set up by the river, away from prying eyes. Maurice grooms Caesars back for a good while, plucking out any dirt or twigs that might have gotten stuck in his fur. Caesar even goes scavenging in the remains of the human city, returning with an assortment of things he believes will help him.

He shampoos himself for the first time since he was a boy. He ends up fluffy and smelling like lavender, a few patches here and there not fully rinsed off and sticking together in clumps. He considers shaving his beard, but ultimately decides against it in favour of using a broken comb on it instead. He even finds an old tie, but he doesn't know how to tie it, so it ends up as a lopsided knot at his throat.

He's desperate to not be repulsive to you. He would be to most humans after all, at least in this regard. In his mind, if he's willing to adjust enough, to be human enough, only then would you even consider him as a potential mate.

But then it happens.

He has Maurice bring you to the river late one night, where he's waiting to greet you with a small bouquet of wildflowers.

You've never seen him so... awkward. So sheepish, so unsure of himself. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's trying to do, but you let him play it out as he sees fit.

It takes more willpower than you'd like to admit not to laugh, but you manage to bite it back.

The two of you sit by the fire for hours, as he goes on a small tangent about how appreciative he is of you, how grateful he is to have met you. You reply in modest thanks, returning the sentiment. But of coarse, you eventually have to ask-

Why all this?

Why change himself so much to have this conversation?

"Because.... you are human. And have changed yourself, to live with apes."

He takes your hand, so small and delicate compared to his own, and lets his thumb trace your knuckles.

"Wanted you to know... I could change too."

The realisation of his mindset horrifies you at first. You take both his hands in turn and tell him you don't want him to change. That you respect and accept him for who and what he is, that the changes you've made are different because you're the one becoming a part of their life.

He gets a little defensive. Suddenly, he's very self conscious of the fact that he might look silly to you, like this. His nostrils flare and he looks away, letting you finish before huffing.

"Respect.... accept... but could you.... love me? For what I am??"

He asks it in a more accusatory manner than he intended, but the tone makes you snap back at him.

"I do love you for what you are!"

The silence that follows is almost deafening. You stare at each other in incredulous surprise, and he watches as your cheeks flush, your mind finally catching up with your mouth. You open it again, as if to say something else, but nothing comes out.

He searches your face, trying to get a sense of how you wanted him to respond. Internally, the words make his heart flutter, but he doesn't dare express anything before your own emotions are readable.

But your expression just mirrors his. You're blinking dumbly at one another, unsure of how to proceed.

Then.... you laugh. The faintest snicker escapes you, soon building into proper laughter. You just can't help it, the situation is so tense and he's gaping at you like a fish, with a crudely attempted tie around his neck and fur making him look almost like a pampered poodle. You're about to apologise, not wanting him to think you're laughing at him.

But he's laughing too, the ridiculousness of it all not lost on him, even if he'd been trying to do what he thought you'd sincerely want. And your giggling is so infectious to him, even if it's a sound that only a human can really make. He adores it, because it's you.

And there's no denying the wave of relief that washes over him. Unabashedly, he reaches out to cradle the back of your head, and pulls your temple to his own as your mutual chuckling slowly fades. Again, you're left staring at each other. But this time it's in a much more comfortable, intimate way.

"Can... try this again? Tomorrow?"

You agree, under the condition that he let you help get all the product out of his fur.

He's more than happy with that arrangement.