#despite them being in excruciating pain

[sytoran]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 || mdg pt. 5

timelines and lifelines have torn you and natasha apart, but the two of you are bound by the child you have created. though subjected to earth, loki, god of mischief, dangles the possibility of a future with natasha by making you a god.

pairing: goddess!natasha x mortal!reader (not for long)

note: this is the 5th installment to the goddess!nat universe, as per the 4k celebration! please read the other parts first if you haven't already. this part contains depictions of violence. this series is 18+ only.

word count: 1.8k

series m.list | main m.list | AO3

Previously…

Your relationship with the Goddess of Lust, Natasha Romanoff, comes to a screeching halt. Torn apart by timelines and lifelines, you’re not coping well, and neither is Natasha — especially when she finds out she’s pregnant with your child.

On the other side of the universe, Loki, God of Mischief, breaks into your apartment to offer you a deal. Worse still, he eats your leftover pizza.

Now…

When you come back to consciousness, you feel like you’re floating. Not in the whimsical, psychedelic cocaine-induced way, but in the Help-I’m-Physically-Suspended-In-The-Air way. 

And it is true, much to your demise, because despite the fruitful hours of work spent in the gym, your arms and back can’t quite handle the excruciating pain of being strung taut like a rope.

Against the will of every screaming cell in your existence for you to fall the fuck back asleep, you forcefully sit up and open your eyes.

It takes about two seconds for the headache-worthy hangover to sink in, and three seconds for you to regret every godforsaken decision you had made the night prior.

Last night- oh, fuck. Last Friday night. 

(No, this isn’t going to entail a radio pop song with a curly black-haired Katy Perry, because the only curly black-haired one in this story is the God of Mischief himself. Both equally as sassy, but expounding on that would fracture the entirety of the space-time continuum.)

“Oh, you’re awake.” 

Speaking of the devil (quite literally), Loki forces you to bring your blurry gaze up to the cocky expression painting his angular face.

“Fuck you,” you spit, dry and hoarse, memories surging through your teetering consciousness. All you were aware of was the mother of your problems was the man himself.

Now, you were suspended like a puppet in your very own living room, strings of golden magic encircling your body, keeping you stretched to the edge of insurmountable agony.

“Funny,” Loki says dryly, eyes raking over your pathetic form. “That’s exactly what you said last night that put you in this position.”

You would’ve laughed, truly, if not for the ache in your ribs and your back and your– you get the point. “You offered me a proposition,” you comment, licking your cracked lips with distaste. 

“And you said ‘fuck you’ and threw up three bottles worth of alcohol on my ridiculously expensive snake-scaled shoes before promptly passing out from your hissy fit of a heartbreak.”

“Deserved.”

“I will hang you upside down.”

You roll your eyes – however much you can roll them in this position. “You gave me an offer. That means that I had a say in this, and I certainly did not consent to take part in this BDSM-worthy fantasy of yours.”

Loki scoffs at this, shifting in his seat. Your seat, actually, his black robes draped over your armchair like it belonged to him. 

“My sex life is none of your business, and more than often entails men,” Loki begins, putting a finger up. “The only reason I’m taking interest in a hopelessly lovesick woman-lover is because you have something that I want.”

You exhale roughly, lungs and ribs screaming in protest. You weren’t of a godly status by any means, but based on his identity and the fact that a God was lurking around Earth, you were competent enough to figure out what he wanted.

“You wanna get back to the land of the Gods,” you state, eyes narrowing in seriousness. “Like me, you’ve done some shit that made SHIELD put a target on your back. Except it’s ten times worse, considering you’re a God. That’s why you’re here. What you want is connections, because I have – I had – a relationship with Natasha Romanoff.”

Natasha.

It pains you, to even put it in the past tense, that what you had with Natasha would only ever be history.

“Oh wow,” Loki responds, acting shocked. “There’s actually more to you than this himbo attitude you exude.”

You don’t give him the pleasure of a response to his provoking, despite your incessant need to sucker-punch that face of his. But uncovering his plan has that layer of composure slipping, for a second, and you delight in it for what it’s worth.

"Put me down first," you say instead through gritted teeth, looking up with a ferocious glint in your eyes.

"Say yes first," Loki answers promptly, folding his arms over his chest with a self-satisfied grin.

"Put me down and or I won't consider your absurd request," you try again, a wracking cough making your stomach lurch in pain.

"Funny you think you're in a position of power," the arrogant god taunts. "Who's to say I won't torture you to the brink of death until I get what I want?"

"...Who's to say I'd eventually break?" you say finally, narrowing your gaze. You sure as hell were scared as fuck, but you had to survive. "Threats only work on people who've got something to lose. I'm forbidden from ever seeing the love of my life again – I've got nothing to lose, y'know? No amount of torture will get you what you want."

Your little speech of sorts, delivered with an unwavering tone despite the pain coursing through your body, plays out perfectly. Loki's gaze is unreadable as he contemplates upon your counter-proposition.

Unceremoniously, you're dropped to the ground, hitting reality with a grunt of pain. “Shit,” you wheeze, clutching at your ribs with sore wrists. “Warn a girl, man.”

Loki waves you off dismissively. “The pain won’t matter anymore.”

“Wait,” you struggle to say, reaching out to nothingness as the man closes his eyes and raises his hands to the lands you once roamed.

It’s only then that you realise you’re surrounded by candles, so many candles. You’re in the center of some kind of ritual board, and what you assume are ‘offerings’ circle you.

From skulls to black flames, you know something is wrong. Very wrong. Loki is muttering incantations under his breath, a language beyond your human tongue, and the pressure in your room rises to an extent that forces you downwards.

“What,” you ask, exhaling roughly against your cracked ribs. “What kind of God am I going to become?”

Your question goes unanswered, lost in the swirling black flames that surround you. Loki’s eyes open again, and this time they are completely black. He begins a chant, crafted from an inhuman tongue, a language you’d never heard before.

That’s when the pain starts.

You scream, brain waves throbbing, a loud ringing sound echoing in your ears. Psychedelia takes over your conscience, producing images all around you, dark and distorted and everything you thought you’d buried.

“ибяѓюгэю юдякиэҁ, эиѫч ҩ рэд.”

Unbridled darkness, enemy of peace.

Natasha’s face is at the forefront of your mind, unblemished and happy and everything you’d ever wanted. You reach out, spluttering and breathless, trying to grasp that wistful memory like it’d materialize in front of you, like she could ever be yours.

“бцэт юҩщи ҩцядрҩи дю ғдг ҩця ҩиэҁ.”

Put down your weapons and fall to your knees.

Her face gets shattered into smithereens, scattered throughout the dark swirls of your mind, overtaken by shadows. Horrifying screams and flashes of a graveyard overwhelm you, and you yell through the misery for the love of your life.

“тҩ фэн тнэ юэҁѓяэ ҩғ џэиəэдисэ lə'”

To quench the desires of vengeance and rage.

Fury slugs through you, as you crawl away from cold hands that pull you back. “No!” You yell, but your voice is not yours anymore. The only thing to describe what you feel is chaos, darkness creeping in from the shadows, a slithering worm into your ear, a rotting carcass and the stench of carrion.

“ҩҁэ бҩиэҁ сдҁт ҩғ ҁсчнэҁ дию бдюэҁ.”

To see bones cast of scythes and blades.

The world snaps from reality, and you get flung into a different dimension. This place you’re trapped in is unfamiliar. You’re standing on a pile of dead human bodies, and there are ghouls and demons cheering your name. Blackness seeps through your veins, infiltrating your mindwires. 

“Revenge,” you spit, a devilish noise, and the cheers rise again.

You scream, as black wings tear through your back, ripping your collared shirt and spreading towards the sky. You launch from the depths of whatever hellhole that may have been, an inhuman screech echoing around the void, soaring towards the heavens in search of the one you’d lost.

“ҩѫэҩя, гдск-щѓəэю юэџѓг, эт ндҁ иғцяг”

Come forth, black-winged devil, let chaos unfurl

Upon descending on holy ground, unfamiliar faces intrude into your mind, prominent and unmistaken. Backlogged information begs its worth — God of Thunder. Goddess of Magic. God of Science. God of Justice. 

Then one word rings above all, high and mighty, and the darkness of your mind clears to reveal the people that had taken your Natasha away.

SHIELD.

“энҩгю яҩѫ нэг, ҩю ҩғнэ Циюэящҩягю.”

Behold from hell, Ruler of the Underworld.

Reality drives into your side like a thousand semi-trucks, bright and flashing, and then you’re back in your living room. You stay on the ground, all-fours, spluttering and gasping for air. 

Natasha.

Black wings flap behind you, resplendent and marvelous. Those had been real.

Arising from the ground, gone is the fear in your eyes. No more shreds of hope. No more sense of justice. Your blackened eyes burn red, searching for Loki. He stands in the corner of the room, and he seems so much smaller now, compared to you and your bloodlust.

“She was mine,” you growl, dangerously, fearsome and inhuman.

“She is yours,” The God of Mischief answers, marveling at his creation, for there was nothing that could stop you now.

***

“Rockabye baby on the treetop,” Natasha sings softly, a hand gently caressing the swell of her stomach. Colours sweep into galaxies as nightfall arrives, cloaking her land in gentle beauty.

“When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.” As if on cue, the wind gets a little chillier. Worry clouds Natasha’s face, edging in on her safe haven.

“When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall.” A holographic image of The God of Justice materializes before her eyes. It meant that it was an urgent message, from one God to the next.

“The SHIELD base is being attacked by an unknown force. We’re in grave danger,” Steve says, urgent and frantic. Screams and chaos can be heard in the background, and the God barely ducks a crashing marble pillar.

Natasha almost scoffs and switches off the image. The Gods had ignored her very existence ever since they had banished you, which was convenient in hiding her pregnancy, but at the same time rather annoying, now that they were begging for help.

That is, until Steve persisted further. “Natasha. This perpetrator has power beyond measure, dark power. It could even exceed Loki’s.”

“......What does this harbinger of hell want?” Natasha asks, steely eyes surveying her homeland.

“Natasha,” Steve repeats, weary eyes hooded with anxiety. “They’re looking for you.”

Down will come baby, cradle and fall.

so that happened.... any thoughts about our new and improved y/n, ruler of the underworld?? loki rlly stirred up a lot of shit huh

reblog or no y/n x natasha reunion

series m.list | main m.list | AO3

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader angst #marvel #sytoran's 4k celebration #wlw fiction #wlw #gxg #natasha romanoff angst

[kierahn]

DRIVEN. [ y ! assassin x m ! reader ]

[ nsfw, minors DNI ]

yandere! assassin x journalist! male reader

warnings :

nsfw

forced non-con [in bold letters]

dead dove

reader death

slight torture warning

semi-necrophilia ?

hi, i'm back after three months of dying🧍‍♂️ it might take me awhile before i post a fic again, but here's an update for you guys.

malachi was a man whose services could be availed with just the right amount of money. he isn't the type to settle for less, confident that he was beyond excellent at doing his job.

ask him to dispose of someone and it would be as if they never existed in the first place. most of his victims' bodies had never been found. that, or they would be beyond recognizable when found. traces of his victims' existence would be gone in a pull of a trigger, with only their names to be remembered by their loved ones.

you were a journalist, renowned for your boldness and endless pursuit for the truth. unlike malachi, your silence can't be bought by any amount of money. you never hesitated to shed light on several issues which made you a formidable force in the eyes of the elite. after all, a journalist who values transparency above anything is someone to be feared by their kind; shrouded with secrets that they dare not reveal to the media.

you were well aware of the risks that came with your job, but that never once detered your work. truly remarkable, but idiotic in a sense.

you knew that it would all come to bite you back someday. with all those companies that you had brought down and names that you have ruined; maybe this was your karma catching up to you.

even as you stood at the receiving end of malachi's gun, regret never once entered your mind. you will never regret challenging the elites. they were nothing but a bunch of cowards, hiding behind their status and disposing of anything that threatened to destroy it.

over the past few months he had been keeping a watchful eye on you, malachi hadn't expected you to barely flinch despite having a gun pressed against your forehead.

"what an interesting reaction," the male on the other end mused as his calculating gaze studied your unfazed expression.

you truly were a bold one, always so headstrong and indifferent. even when threatened with a bullet through your skull, you stood your ground, not even a yell for help or a plead for him to spare you.

"why am i not surprised," a sound of amusement escaped malachi's lips. "you've always been so fearless. perhaps, you were already expecting this to happen."

he wasn't entirely wrong, you've long envisioned this scenario inside your head.

you stood with an oddly placid expression before the barrel of his gun, but your hands told a completely different story. they trembled against your sides, a stark contrast to your calm demeanor.

you were scared.

you could only hope that he could do it quickly to save you from further embarrassment.

"there's no point in prolonging this, is there ?" you spat out in spite, opening the door for death who stood at your doorstep.

your eyes were always so full of challenge, malachi wanted to rip that away from you. he had always wanted to see you with a different expression; whether it was fear or something more.

"a shame," he slightly lowered the gun in his hand, now pointed right where your heart lies. "i've grown quite fond of you, journalist." malachi shamelessly confessed.

something you two had in common was being highly driven by your work. unfortunately for you, malachi still had a job he was committed to.

‘ bang! ‘

he didn't fret over the possibility of the gunshot being heard by a passerby. if anyone were to investigate the source of the sound, he would simply dispose of them too.

malachi watched intently as you dropped to the ground.

and there it was. your fearful expression.

your eyes were wide with tears as you clutched your side where the bullet lodged itself, your breathing laboured as your mind quickly worked to try and numb out the excruciating pain you felt. curses left your lips, the warmth of your own blood trickling down your wrist.

he wasn't quite contented in ending things there. normally, he would go for a swift kill and dispose of his victims afterwards. however, he had purposely shot you in a spot that didn't instantly put you to rest.

the sound of footsteps nearing your fallen form reached your ears before your hand was forcefully ripped away from your bleeding side and pinned beside your head, leaving you more vulnerable than you intially were as your killer straddles your bloodied waist.

malachi's eyes scanned your tearful expression with a hint of content. absentmindedly, his free hand moved to caress your open wound.

"!!" an excruciating scream left your lips when malachi suddenly dug his finger through your bullet wound.

his grip around your wrist tightened when you started to thrash around under him, your survival instincts kicking in. you tried to throw him off of you, but your frantic movements only caused your wound to open up more.

malachi clicked his tongue in disapproval, removing his finger from your wound. "now you're just making things harder for yourself."

“HN!– ha.. f.. uck you,” you curse him through gritted teeth. your expression hardened as you shut your teary eyes tightly, trying to minimize the pain.

he leans down to move his face close to yours, examining the tears that slid down your reddened cheeks and the saliva that trickled down your chin. malachi drew his hand that was stained with your blood, brushing it under your eye and leaving a streak of crimson red.

"you know," he starts softly, feeling you tremble underneath him. "this look suits you better than the stoic one that you always wore.”

"i bet i can make you show so much more than that," malachi chuckled darkly, his words holding anticipation. "consider this a parting gift for my dear journalist."

the male roughly grabbed your cheeks to prevent you from struggling when he leans in to capture your lips into a forced kiss. his other hand left your limp wrist to rest, slipping under your bloodied shirt and brushing over the bullet wound up to your chest.

his touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the tight grip on your cheeks. anyone could tell that malachi was, to some degree, fond of the man under him.

he soon broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. his lips land on your shoulder where he suddenly bit down to leave his mark, making you flinch and let out a pained groan.

malachi pulled his lips away and gently licked the bleeding bitemark to try and soothe you in a way. he straightened back up to examine his handiwork.

your eyes seemed to be in a daze, your breathing slowing down. it was a clear indication that your conciousness was beginning to slip. but before life could completely escape you, malachi lands a harsh slap to your cheek.

"don't be so ungrateful, y/n." he warns, grabbing your cheeks roughly once more, his hand that was under your shirt leaving to grasp onto your thigh. "leaving without accepting my gift. no, no. i won’t let you do that.”

malachi released his grasp on your cheeks by roughly tossing your head to the side, he worked to unbuckle your belt before slipping your trousers down to your knees. he was seething. you couldn't leave him just yet, not without him seeing your expressions as he's (literally) fucking the life out of you.

your vision swayed as the blood loss eventually made you cease your struggles. the light in your eyes was slowly fading and so was your warmth.

but that didn't stop malachi from getting his entertainment. after pulling down his own trousers, malachi rammed himself into you in one single thrust, leaving you with no preparation as you jolt at the sudden intrusion.

you weakly claw at the male's clothed chest. there was just so much pain, from the bullet wound on your side to the bitemark on your shoulder, and now the size that stretched you out dry. you could feel something warm trickling down your thighs, a a texture you could recognize.

you sobbed quietly as the pain doubled when malachi started to move without giving you the time adjust to his size. the tip of his cock worked its way on your insides, trying to find the spot that would make you melt under him.

his eyes watched as your pained expressions turn into one of hesitance. readjusting himself, malachi sets his pace. he knew that he finally found the right spot when he felt your thigh twitch in his grasp and your walls tighten around his dick. lo and behold, your look of hesitance contorted into a disturbed one as you quickly throw an arm over your face to cover yourself.

a shameful moan escaped your lips as soon as he finally hits the spot that broke it all for you. it wasn't long before you turned into a hot mess under him. your chest rose and fell in a rapid rate as you whimpered and moaned under him.

malachi's free hand roughly removed the arm that covered your slutty expressions. you looked so lewd with his cock inside you, drool spilling from your lips and your eyes rolled back in undeniable pleasure.

now this was the sight he had been longing to see.

the pain from your wound was long gone as intense pleasure eventually replaced it. malachi quickened his pace when he noticed how your cock twitched, indicating that you were near your climax. he wasn't that cruel to deny you of orgasm in your last moments.

or maybe he was.

before the knot in your lower abdomen could come undone, malachi grabbed a hold of his gun and shot you straight in between your eyes, lodging a bullet through your skull and finally putting you to rest.

your warm blood stained his lower abdomen, trickling down to his cock that continued to drive into you who had long went limp under him, your eyes deprived of life.

he gave a few more thrusts before finally spilling his warm seed inside of your ass. his breaths were heavy as he kept his cock buried inside your now freezing and stiff body.

malachi soon pulled out of your corpse, fixing his trousers and standing back up. he sheated his gun back on its holster as he gazed down at your limp body.

he knew he was fucked up, but this was on another level.

he smiled smugly.

maybe you should've picked another job in the first place.

#male reader #yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yandere #kiahndere

[eat-limes-bitches]

Coming Home

PAIRING: Female Avenger! Reader x  Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY:  “Falling for you was like nothing I imagined.” Her voice started to give out as the door to the safe house burst open, “It was coming home.”

WARNINGS: ANGST, ANGST, ANGST! but it has a happy ending, mentions of death, dying, blood, stab wounds, violence, Sad! Bucky, nausea

Word Count: 1913

A/N: Hi! Here is another installment of my febuwhump series! Like I said, completely out of order but I couldn't wait it share this one with you guys!

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne

Y/n knew when they left for this mission that something wasn’t right. It was too clean, the information was too good. Despite the many reassurances from Bucky when they landed, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Now, as she ran, she made a mental note to shout, ‘I told you so’ at her partner as soon as they reached the safe house, that was, if she could get out of the collapsing building. Skidding around a turn she pushed herself harder, desperate to reach the exit. She was almost there when there was an excruciating pain thrumming up her left leg. Whipping her head around, she saw a knife embedded in her calf and a trapped HYDRA soldier holding onto the handle. 

“If I’m going down, you’re coming with me, sweetheart.” the soldier grimaced as he twisted the knife. Y/n glanced at the fast-approaching collapse of the ceiling before looking at the trapped man.

“You fucking wish,” she growled before shooting the man. His hand, now lifeless, released the handle so she continued her rapid sprint to the exit, somehow stumbling out the doorway and collapsing in the grass just as the rest of the building fell into a pile of rubble. 

“Y/N! Are you alright?!” Bucky's worried voice shouted in her ear, causing her to wince.

“Just fucking peachy.” She grumbled, closing her eyes as a headache started to form in the back of her head. She re-opened them, however, as she heard rapid footsteps approaching, looking over just in time to see Bucky’s approaching form. He slid to a stop and took in her battered form on the ground.

“Are you hurt darlin’?” Has questioned, as he leaned down to help Y/n back to her feet. S he winced as her left leg started supporting weight again. 

“Yeah some bugger got me in the calf on the way out, but it's not bleeding too badly, we can take care of it at the safe house I think.” She groaned, putting more weight on Bucky's shoulder. He glanced over her shoulder to observe the wound in question and nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, I think so too but let's get you to that safe house faster.” Bucky led her to the bike that was hidden in the tree line and gracefully set her down on the back seat before hopping on the bike himself and speeding off down the dirt road. 

The longer the pair drove, the worse Y/n felt. Her head started spinning and her stomach churned. By the time they reached the safe house, she all but flung herself off the bike and hurled what was left of her breakfast that morning into the bushes. 

“Shit, you ok doll?” Bucky asked, crouching down next to her, running a hand up and down her back. Y/n let out a groan.

“Been better I’m not gonna lie.” As Bucky wrapped an arm around her frame and pulled her up to move her into the house, she couldn’t decide if the butterflies in her stomach were from being this close to him or the nausea. Once inside the small safe house, Bucky placed Y/n on the kitchen table and dashed off to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. 

She tried to get an idea of what was around her in the room but the more she tried to focus on one thing, the more it spun around in her vision. Unable to prop herself up any longer, she lay flat on the table trying to stop the world from moving around her. Bucky returned moments later and placed a wet rag on her forehead, causing her eyes to flutter open. 

“I’m gonna get this knife out now, ok doll?” Bucky said as he rounded the table. All Y/n could do was make a soft ‘mhm’ and groan as he pulled the knife out. 

The first sign that something was wrong was the orange tinge to the blood that came pouring out of the wound. The next hint was the remnants of a yellow powder on the blade. The more strange orange liquid oozed out of the wound, the faster Bucky’s heart sped up.

“Y/n? You feeling ok darlin’?” He called out, looking up from the wound when he heard no response. Y/n’s head was limply lying to one side. He cursed under his breath as he tightened the tunicate and dashed around the table to place a hand on her face.

“Y/n? Open your eyes for me darlin’.” Bucky called out desperately, his thumb brushing over her cheek, taking notice of how cold it was to the touch. Her eyes fluttered open and her blown-out pupils focused on Bucky’s face. A wistful smile decorated her features.

‘Hey Buck, when did you get here?” Bucky’s heart sank, he knew the signs all too well from his time in the war. The faraway look, the disorientation, she was dying, but she couldn’t be, not yet.

“I’ve been here the whole time doll. Can you keep your eyes open for me?” He pleaded as he started to back away to try and return to her wound to keep patching it up. He was stopped by her hand coming up holding his hand to her face, keeping him in place. 

“You know I always knew that this was going to happen.” She mumbled, locking her gaze on his face. Bucky riffled through his pocket looking for his emergency transponder.

“W-what are you talking about, baby? You’re gonna be fine!” He stated, fumbling over his words as he pulled out the little remote and pressed the button. Y/n shook her head.

“No, I’m not and you know that just as much as I do.” Her voice was becoming airy the more she tried to talk. Bucky felt the hard knot in his throat starting to form as he shook his head, willing the tears to go back into his eyes.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about doll. I’m gonna get you patched up a-and we are going to go home and you are gonna take me to that noodle shop you promised me right?” Y/n shook her head softly, not having a lot of energy to move at this point.

“You know I won’t. But please know, none of this is your fault”. Her voice was light and airy as she spoke. Bucky shook his head wildly.

“No, not like this, Y/n, please not like this!” He cried, bringing his other hand up to cup her face, trying to keep her gaze locked on him. She soothed him, bringing her other hand up to place it on top of his head, burying her finger into the dirty chestnut locks. 

“It’s gonna be ok, Buck.” She whispered, a smile still decorating her face. Bucky decided that even as she lay there dying on the table, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

“Don’t be sad, the stars are going to shine tonight.” Bucky took a shaky breath, letting his eyes slip close to savor the feeling of her fingers in his hair one last time.

“A-and when you see them, know I am watching over you.” Y/n gasped as her body began shutting down causing Bucky’s eyes to flash open in alarm. Y/n shook her head a bit, a breathy laugh dancing off her lips.

“There is so much to say, so many wonderful things I have to tell you, but with so little time left.” Her voice was only a whisper now, but even as quiet as her words were, she couldn’t hear the jet engine roaring in the background. 

“Like what darlin’?” Bucky whimpered as he watched her eyes grow dull the closer the footsteps got to the door.

“Falling for you was like nothing I imagined.” Her voice started to give out as the door to the safe house burst open, revealing a disheveled Steve and Bruce barreling in, with the rest not far behind. With a final breath, she looked Bucky right in the eye.

“It was coming home.”

       ~~~~~~happy ending after the cut but if you want to be sad stop here~~~~~~~~

The cry that left Bucky as her hands went limp and her eyes slid closed was going to haunt the team for the rest of their lives. Bruce, who had been tending to the wound the first chance he got, looked to the rest of the team.

“She still has a pulse, all be it faint. I know what's wrong with her, we can save her.” 

To Bucky, everything after that was a blur. Steve pulled Bucky away from Y/n and Tony scooped her up, rushing her back to the jet as the rest rushed after him. Back at the compound, Y/n was placed in the med wing as Bruce began treatment. Bucky didn’t understand much other than “Radiation sickness. Uranium on the knife. Nothing he could have done.”

Nothing he could have done? He watched the love of his life basically die in his arms, in his care and there was nothing he could have done? After being forcibly made to shower and change clothes to rid himself of the Uranium on his clothes was he then allowed into her room. He resumed the position he held at the safe house, clutching her hand and waiting for any signs of life, other than the beeping from the monitor. 

Bucky moved his gaze from her face to the window. The light danced off the windows of the other building unfiltered by the cloudless sky. It was beautiful, but he couldn’t appreciate it, it looked dull in comparison to the woman on the bed.

“I thought I told you to not be sad.” Her voice was so soft that Bucky thought he imagined it but when he snapped his gaze to her face, he saw her bright eyes staring right back at him. Bucky choked on a sob and rested his head on the bed. The relief flooding through his system was too much for him to handle. Her nimble fingers took their rightful place on top of his head, brushing through the now silky hair strands.

After a moment, Bucky lifted his head and captured Y/n’s hand as it fell from his head, pressing a kiss into her palm before holding it in his hands. 

“It’s hard not to be sad when the one person who brought life into the darkest parts of my life was dying in my arms.” He returned his gaze to lock onto Y/ns. For a moment the pair sat in silence before Bucky spoke again.

“I thought I lost you.” Y/n just smiled softly, not saying a word. Bucky just stared at her, trying to bask in the warmth of her gaze as long as he could. The more he basked, the more the nightmarish pain of losing her was becoming just that, a nightmare. 

“But I’m still here.” Bucky’s grip increased slightly, fearful that he may hurt her, but needing to feel her to keep himself grounded, keep himself from falling off the edge of reality in the abyss of ‘what ifs’. Bucky had so many things he wanted to tell her, so many different things he could and should say but the only thing that managed to slip out was, “Yeah. Yeah you are.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader angst

[auggieblogs]

heartbreak girl | MV1 (pt.1)

part II

Summary: "I've loved you since we were kids, y/n, ever since I saw you at your 4th birthday party. I told my ma I was going to marry you someday."

Pairings: Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Warnings: language, mention of alcohol (and throwing up because of it)

Author's note: Heyyyy, hiii, lovelies. I hope you all are doing good!!! This fic is heavily inspired by "heartbreak girl" by 5sos, thank you to @navia3000 for requesting this (and thank you for LITERALLY breaking down the song for me😭🫶🏻). I know it's not completely based off the song but I tried my best. Anyways, happy reading, everyone<3

P.S.- This is definitely not my best work but I tried okay??? I really hope y'all like it and hopefully there will be a part 2.

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

One thing you should know about Max Verstappen is that he harboured an intense loathing for one person in the world: Connor Smith, your now-ex-boyfriend. Max despised Connor with every fibre of his being. Connor was, in Max's eyes, a complete fuckwit, a lousy boyfriend who had repeatedly let you down. He never made time for you, often left your texts unanswered for hours, and failed to treat you the way you deserved. To make matters worse, he disrespected you, and that ignited something in Max, a desire to punch Connor's face every time he laid eyes on him, perhaps?

On the other side of the emotional spectrum, Max was head over heels in love with you. He was a silent, lovesick puppy, adoring everything about you – your infectious smile, your contagious laughter, your passion for music, and all those little quirks that made you uniquely you. Yet, despite these profound feelings, Max was too much of a pussy to confess any of this to you. His fear held him back, and it was the reason he watched you date Connor, even when he knew you deserved so much better.

But life has a way of unravelling complicated emotions. Connor eventually broke your heart. The pain was excruciating, the emotions raw and overwhelming.

Devastated, you found yourself in a mess, sprawled on your bathroom floor with a bottle of vodka in your trembling hand. Your face was flushed, your eyes bloodshot, and you felt like your world had collapsed.

Max's heart shattered into pieces as he saw you in such a fragile state. Without hesitation, he sank to the floor beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest. You cried uncontrollably, sobs wracking your body, and your breathing was ragged. Max's heart ached as he cradled your head, whispering soothing words to calm you.

Eventually, when your sobs ebbed to quiet sniffles, you looked up at Max. His face was etched with concern, but you hated that. You didn't want to be a burden to him. "He left" you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes once more.

"I figured," Max replied softly.

"I'm not the type of person who cries over a boy," you said, tears pricking your eyes again.

Max gently brushed away your tears, his touch comforting. "No, you're not," he said, still holding you close. You felt like throwing up, physically ill from the pain of your breakup. You had loved Connor, despite his flaws, and he had occasionally made you feel loved which only made you feel more confused and lost.

Unable to hold back any longer, you threw up, and Max was right there to help. He rubbed your back and held your hair, comforting you as a best friend would.

"Okay, shh, that's it," he said gently as you emptied your stomach. Afterward, he helped you off the floor, guided you to the sink, helped you brush your teeth, and washed your face. Max even braided your hair and performed your skincare routine for you.

Going to your wardrobe, he selected the comfiest pair of pyjamas and helped you change into them. Max knew he couldn't take away your pain, but he was determined to provide you with some distraction. After cleaning up, the two of you settled in to watch a movie in your bedroom. Max sat on the floor, close to the TV, and you were cozily nestled in bed.

Max still hadn't asked you about Connor because he knew you well enough to know that you would eventually talk about it. And you did.

Hours passed, and you finally mustered the strength to crawl over to Max and rest your head on his thighs. He looked down at you, a warm smile on his face.

"I'm really sorry," you said, your voice still trembling.

"For what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled by your apology.

"For being such a mess," you admitted, tears glistening in your eyes. "I know you had better things to do today. You shouldn't have to take care of me."

Max leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. "I want to take care of you," he said softly. "You needed me, and I'll always be here for you. You'd do the same for me."

A brief smile graced your lips, but it quickly faded as you voiced your deepest insecurity, "Do you think the reason he left me is because I'm not pretty enough?"

Max's heart clenched at your words, the overwhelming urge to kiss you and hold your face in his hands almost unbearable. But he knew this wasn't the right time, not when you were so emotionally vulnerable. He had to be strong for you.

"He left because he's an idiot, and he doesn't deserve you, y/n," Max said, his tone firm and unwavering. "Looks have nothing to do with it. You're beautiful, inside and out."

Tears welled in your eyes as his words washed over you. "He's the only one who's ever loved me. I've never had a boy like me, Max."

Max's heart ached for you, and for a moment, he allowed himself to stroke your hair gently. "You've always been loved," he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of years of unspoken emotion. "I've loved you since we were kids, y/n, ever since I saw you at your 4th birthday party. I told my ma I was going to marry you someday."

Max's confession hung in the air, a palpable tension that enveloped both of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared into his eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. The room seemed to close in around you, and the tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered, "Max..."

#formula 1 #red bull racing #f1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen f1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x female reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 fic

[ashessonfire]

listen here, you DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO RIP MY HEART OUT OF MY CHEST AND THROW IT IN THE MUD AND STAMP ON IT WITH THAT LATEST KAZ FIC OF YOURS, GET IT? I'm completely… devastated. I never asked you for anything, please do a part two, I BEG YOU!

ps: darling, you write very well ♡

'Forgotten' Part two - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt: Kaz slowly begins to remember your relationship, but what good is that if he has already tossed you aside? Can the Bastard of the Barrel save the one thing he truly loves?

You can find the first part of 'Forgotten' here!

- Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader (established relationship) - Warnings: A lot of angst, nothing too graphic, lots of emotion coming from Kaz + his crows, so much sadness, dont worry too much though ... :)

A/N: The amount of requests for this have been insane, once again i truly love each one of you, my heart is so full. I hope this is a good ending for the first part, im very happy with how it turned out!! P.S I am so sorry for the pain i seemed to have caused with the first post T-T ════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Glimpses of you tormented Kaz, plaguing his every thought. His mind seemingly fixated on the one person he had deserted out of pure spite.

It had been two weeks since you were outcast, and Kaz had prayed to the Saints that it would relieve him of the weight gripping his heart, ever since his memory was ripped away from him. Yet they seemed to laugh in his face, spitting back a far more excruciating punishment for his actions.

Returning his memories.

The second you had left his office, tears spilling as they swirled in your shining eyes, Kaz had felt something deep stirring within him, something resembling dread. Since then, he had begged any higher being for relief as realisation began to flood his senses, engulfing his every thought and action.

Wounds scattered his already battered heart, with the rest of the crows seeming to crush it further each day. Ever since you had slipped carefully crafted letters under each of your friend’s doors, you had melted into the shadows of Ketterdam, not a single trace of your presence left behind.

You knew Kaz ultimately wasn’t to blame, yet the scars he had painted onto your soul were excruciating, physically pushing you away from him to escape further agony. You too, prayed to the Saints that your boyfriend, or perhaps ex-boyfriend, would regain what he had lost, and remember you as his lover.

Wind swept through your hair, salt spraying your glowing features as you sailed towards Ravka, choosing to allow the breeze to blow your pain along the wind, and back to Ketterdam. Pushing Kaz to the furthest corner of your mind, you stepped off the ladder onto Ravkan soil, determined to reap the benefits of your misfortune rather than wallow in them.

Taking the outstretched hand of a grinning sailor, you allowed the warmth of his smile and the welcoming of the group around you to bathe you in some sort of content.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

It seemed as if your prayers had worked, as each day wracked Kaz with a new memory or emotion, each one undeniably interlinked with you. His feelings overtook him, spewing out in rageful fits or harsh punishments for anyone daring to cross him, deepening the rift forming between the boss and his crows.

The moment each crow had read your letter, it instantly clicked into place what had happened, despite your deliberate attempts to remain vague about the exchange which had stolen you from them.

Sitting in Jesper’s room, the crew remained sullen, intense emotions clouding the air, becoming unbearable. The suffocating atmosphere was fractured when Nina suddenly burst out, “I am going to kill him. I warned him to be gentle, yet he pushed my attempts aside, and now...this. The hit could have been hard enough to at least remove some of his stubbornness.”

Nina huffed, rage coursing through her blood at Kaz’s actions, had she not been clear enough? “He can’t just send her away, can he? I mean, I didn’t think he would have it in him to do that, even before those two got together,” Jesper seethed, confusion lacing his voice but an unmistakable anger matching Nina’s.

Wylan remained silent, picking at the rotting wood of the floorboards, too overwhelmed at the loss of you to comprehend his emotions. Inej similarly remained quiet, eyes fluttering shut as she soundlessly prayed to each Saint that you would return, and Kaz would finally see sense.

Despite the varied reactions to their boss’s stupidity, a common thread held them closely together, pain. To each one of them you meant the world, a prevailing light penetrating through the dreary Barrel life which often consumed its inhabitants.

You lit up the darkness of the ruthless city, aiding Jesper in amusing pranks often against Kaz, in which you would take the blame for, knowing deep down Kaz could never hold it against you.

You consoled Wylan when whisps of his past would haunt him, taking him on walks along the canal or making his favourite tea and taking in the views of Ketterdam from the rooftop. The warmth of the suns beams and your words washing away his nerves.

For the usually reserved wraith, you encouraged her confidence, easing her fear of touch in a similar way in which you helped Kaz. Around very few other people Inej could say she felt the same comfort and unconditional love that radiated from your mere presence. Nina could positively agree with how Inej felt, intensely missing her gossip companion and partner in crime. You knew every detail about her, and the rest of the crows, in a way nobody else could ever counter.

On the third week of your absence, the crows had seen very little of their leader, the few signs of his presence being the scraping of a chair in his office, or the beat of a cane on the panels of the Slat, indicating he was finally eating before walling himself up in his desolate isolation again.

Paperwork scattered Kaz’s desk, yet it remained as untouched as it was when he had exiled you. His days were spent calculating finances, unable to bring himself to plan a heist without you, with a distinct and vital element of his crew missing.

A sudden echo of weighted footsteps sounded outside of his door, their ascent bringing a chorus of hushed voices as the crows burst into his office. It had been days since they had last encountered their boss, his previous sighting confining him almost indefinitely to his room. It was in the early hours of the morning a few nights ago that he had finally emerged to gather some papers from the common room, when his attention snapped up to a sight that he was utterly unprepared to face.

Before him, by a fireplace laden with dim embers, sat Inej, Wylan, and Jesper, all three bearing cascading silver lines down their faces. Wylan’s breathing was ragged as he sobbed into Jespers chest, the sight of which triggering the other two. Realisation slammed into Kaz, knocking the breath out of his lungs, startling him with the intensity of emotion that welled up within him.

Not only had he destroyed the one true tenderness in his life, but he had also destroyed his closest friends too.

By this point, he had figured that he had long been captivated with you, and the most recent flashes of memory brought his relationship barreling down on him. Although patches were hazy, he had decoded exactly what he felt.

He was in love with you.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Before any of the group that had stumbled in could voice their opinions, the sight of their boss stunned them into silence.

Kaz remained hunched over his desk as always, but the ghostly paleness to his skin, the hollowed cheeks that protruded at sharp angles, and the grave circles etched underneath his reddened eyes deeply unsettled his crows. Nothing, not even Pekka Rollin’s greatest attempts to wound him, had ever resulted in Kaz Brekker’s complete and utter destruction.

Until now.

Inej quietly cleared her throat before courageously stating, “Kaz, we are going to find her. Not only are the Dregs seriously disadvantaged, but we also need her. Not just for jobs, even though you may not remember…” until she was cut of by a sharp voice.

Kaz’s head whipped up, glaring with a deathly warning at the people who stood before him. “I do remember,” he lashed out, voice deep and gravelly at the lack of use, “I remember everything now. You think I would have done that if I had known?”

His words echoed around the dim room, but it was something about Kaz’s face which caused the crows to collectively draw in their breath. A tear had freed itself from the confinement of his heart, snaking it was way down his ashen cheek, revealing to the group the torment he was being subject to by his own actions.

With a shaky hand, he procured a crumpled piece of paper from his waistcoat, holding it out to the group in a similar way in which he had done to you, the emotion in his chest pressing tightly against his lungs.

Jesper stepped forward cautiously, snatching it from his hands and unfolding the corners. The group peered over his shoulder to discover a meticulously thought-out plan to retrieve you from Ravka. Kaz glanced at the group, for the first time allowing them a glimpse of his true feelings, begging them silently to aid in his mission.

With a swift look to the others, they wordlessly agreed to Kaz’s plan, Jesper handing back the paper to his boss and giving a tight nod to Kaz, “Lets go then,” he declared.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Through a thorough process of force, Nina had coaxed the reality of your conversation out of Kaz, pulling up rage from the group. However, they excellently withheld it, knowing you would never blame Kaz for his actions whilst his memories fogged over, despite the pain they had caused.

The air around them cleared as the ship sailed away from the port in Ketterdam, the grey of the ocean blending into cerulean as the voyage to Ravka proceeded. If Kaz’s calculations remained accurate, you would be collecting information within the small harbor you had first landed in, leaving little ground for the group to cover in search of you.

Once they reached land, they split off into six desperate individuals, Jesper searching the market, Inej scouring the rooftops, Wylan inquiring with locals, and Nina investigating the shops that littered the town square. Kaz stationed himself inside a cramped booth at the busiest of the sparse bars that lined the town, his informants assuring him it was the most popular with Ketterdam’s visitors.

For the first time in years, Kaz felt sick with nerves. He remembered how anxious he had felt when he summoned the courage to admit his feelings, but the sheer force of his panic now tied him down and drowned him.

Tears poured frequently from his eyes during the weeks of your absence, the dread of not knowing how you were constantly squeezing at his heart. The knowledge that if something happened to you it would be his fault ate at him until he was a mere shell of the man you had loved.

A voice pulled him out of his daze, like a siren inviting a sailor to dance in the depths of the ocean, Kaz was defenseless against you. As he turned his head towards the sound, you also glanced over at the dark figure in the corner, heart ceasing its movements in your chest the second your gazes locked.

It truly was him.

Frozen by the sight of you, Kaz couldn’t comprehend his own actions, remaining frigid in his seat as he stared at you, eyes once again being subject to the sting of tears.

‘Pathetic’ he thought to himself.

You gave a kind smile to the men you were conversing with previously, quietly slipping into the opposite seat from Kaz. You parted your lips to begin small conversation, not wanting the tension to grow too intense, but your words crumbled as he shot out, “I need you.”

Confusion flooded you, yet the desperation flooding his eyes signaled that he wasn’t done, the words were just slowly configuring inside. You knew him well enough to give an encouraging nod, letting him calculate his next words.

“I need you to come back. I remember it all, and” he stopped himself, breathing shallowly as his lungs refused to intake enough air, “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Tears leaked from his sunken eyes, his fragile appearance wracking you with emotion, the temptation to reach out to him becoming unbearable. Nobody but you had ever seen the Bastard of the Barrel break, yet he sat before you now, heart on full display for only you to see.

Yet you remained strong, answering his pleads by stating, “And how will that go? I know you lost your memory, but will you just push me away again if your feelings overwhelm you?” Before he could respond, you breathed out, “Kindness often isn’t free in this world Kaz, but when it comes to you, I would never expect anything in return. However, if you truly want me back, I need you to prove to me that it's really,” you paused,

“You.”

Instantaneously, Kaz reached for your hand, gloved fingers grasping desperately at your own, interweaving and caressing them in an iron grip. “I swear,” he started, “I will never let anyone harm you again in the way I have, my love,” a flood of emotion seeping into his words and gaze. “Including myself. I’m sorry,” he said, guiding your interweaved hands to his lips, the trembling a mere afterthought as he kissed your knuckles.

Smiling sadly at him, you tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, hearing a shaky sigh leave his lips at your touch, mere weeks leaving him in desperation for you.

“The others are here I suppose?” you questioned, earning a short nod from Kaz and a diversion of his gaze. Unwinding your hand from his, you stood up, glancing down at the sorrowful man, and offering a soft smile, “Lets go find them then,” heart fluttering as Kaz’s hand gripped your wrist, unable to go without your touch a moment longer.

Weaving your hand through his once more, your gaze softened as the tension carved into your boyfriends sullen face released, as the pair of you made your way out of the establishment, connected by the hands that gripped the other and the love that radiated between the pair. Once you had received at least a hundred embraces and kisses from the other crows, you embarked on the journey back to dreary city of Ketterdam.

Not once on the voyage did Kaz leave your side, exchanging soft touches in each moment, and gently whispering against your temple a breathy, “I love you,” as the sublime colours of the sunset bled into the ocean, coating the two in a golden haze.

Relief settled between you, having the other fully within their reach again.

As Kaz’s attention diverted back to the wide expanse of water before him, you pour all of your emotions into your next words.

“I love you too, Kaz Brekker.”

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

tag list: @cinnamon-bun47 @outlawqueen17 @s-corpionem @minstens @myheartfollower @cleverzonkwombatsludge @hopefulpeachnight @aesthetic0cherryblossom @thetargaryenbride @maisieisbae @natalia42069 @words-are-cheap @blancaster @caspianobsessed @lvmos-maximus @peotego  @rhyanna6012 

#kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #ashessonfire

[lippyispunk]

When the World Is Quiet, What Thoughts Remain

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: Gods, he remembers this feeling intimately.

Dying.

-

A near-death experience provides Astarion some clarity.

Word Count: 3.7k

fluff, realized feelings, developing relationship

a/n: Hello all!

I wrote this to take place in Act 2, after the Yurgir battle but before Astarion's confession. I believe it is gender neutral, but if anyone finds something that says otherwise, please let me know! First time posting on here, so I apologize for any formatting errors.

-

Gods, he remembers this feeling intimately. 

Dying.

Despite the centuries that had passed since his mortality had been lost to this plane, the experience was seared into his mind. Back then, it had been horrific. The excruciating pain. The paralyzing fear of what was to come, as his body was drained of blood and his heart thumped erratically in his chest, desperately trying to keep his blood flowing- his body alive.

 

This time, the pain is ever present. He lies on his back in the mud and puddles, the yawning storm above continuing to release torrents of rain. His ruby eyes blink slowly, despite the droplets landing in them. Twin daggers have been abandoned at his sides, pale elegant hands having to hold his innards together instead. His white lounge shirt clings to his trembling frame, now dyed rusty brown and crimson red. 

 

The fear, however, is blessedly absent. His thoughts trudge through his mind like oozing honey. It’s almost peaceful. Cazador. The parasite. His never ending hunger. All seemed so far away now; the normally constant concerns looming at the forefront of his thoughts, now caught in the sticky trap of insignificance. 

He had been hungry earlier. Always so hungry. The small respite he received immediately after feeding never lasted as long as he wished it would. His condition had been even more bothersome as of late. Ever since he and the little group of misfits he traveled with had entered the Shadowlands. Prey was sparse. And any blood he lost during battle needed to be replaced somehow. That was how he found himself here tonight.

 

He had hunted further from the group’s campsite than he normally would, in search of the few living creatures that had not yet been felled by this accursed land. He had been ambushed by shadow beings, caught unaware due to his weakened, dulled senses. Their claws had cut through him so easily. His lack of armor was another mistake, but a decision made in hopes to be quick and quiet enough to catch a meal.

 

His head slowly lolled to the side, eyes attempting to focus in the direction of the camp. The monsters that attacked him had begun to slither that way before vanishing into hazy mist. His breath wheezes from his lungs, chest shuddering. Breathing wasn’t a necessity for him, but a habit nonetheless. Even now.

 

He wonders, idly, if any of his companions will be awake at this hour to intercept the attack. His muddled mind cannot bring forth who was supposed to be on watch tonight. He even admits to himself, perhaps his blood loss getting to his head, that he would not wish to see them come to harm. Karlach, Wyll, Shadowheart…

 

His drifting thoughts were brought to sudden clarity. A breathtaking, wondrous, kind creature unexpectedly ensnaring his thoughts.

You.

 

Gods, how could it have taken this long for you to flit back into his mind? You were all he seemed to think about anymore lately. Your smile, your laugh, your boundless good heart. But also the confusion he felt that always seemed to twist whatever lovely feeling you inspired in him.

 

He may not wish to see the others harmed, but you… you’re different. The way he feels for you is- different. He cares for you. In a way that he cannot recall ever feeling for someone else. You understand him in ways that he doesn’t understand himself. It’s terrifying. Exhilarating. The most alive he’s felt in, well, ever. 

 

But it wasn't supposed to end up this way. He’s comfortable pretending. Seducing. It’s as familiar as the back of his hand. And the facade had worked with you too, for a brief time. Until that second time he propositioned you at the tiefling party. What had you called his seductions? ‘Honeyed words’? And then the complete dismissal of his fraudulent love confession. He had recovered well in the moment; he’s used to pivoting his tactics when the occasional target gets antsy with his persuasions. Even still, you had rejected him that night. You let him down easy, of course, with a compassionate smile and a sweet whisper of ‘perhaps another time'. 

 

Later that night, when he was alone once more, he contemplated. You were on to him, in one way or another. Maybe you didn’t know the extent of his ploy, but you could tell his flirtations were… insincere. Why else would you turn down another night with him? 

 

He had expected repercussions, a growing distance between the two of you that would put all his progress with you to ruin. You didn’t seem the type to settle for this feigned romance. You'd push him away.

But you hadn’t. You were just as warm and welcoming to him as you had always been. Attentive. Friendly. Hells, even laughing at his irrelevant, snarky quips. He was surprised. And in that surprise, he found himself off guard. You still wanted to spend time with him, despite everything. Maybe… maybe he didn't have to try so hard with you. 

 

Since that revelation, Astarion had found himself just enjoying existing . He had fun around you, and the others too, he'd be loath to admit. Now that the metaphorical weight of seducing you had been lifted. But inevitably, at night when he was alone, the pesky question returned, cycle after cycle. If not his body, what did you want from him?

 

More recently, there had been the battle with the Orthon, Yurgir. Astarion was still befuddled, even now. No one in his extensive time on this plane had ever gone to such lengths for him. When Raphael had offered the deal: one very dead devil in exchange for information on his scarred flesh, there had been no question, no doubt from you. Just resolve and an all encompassing respect for Astarion and his decision making. It made his chest ache. 

 

He's not entirely sure what to call the emotion he feels for you. It goes beyond simple lust for your form or an appreciation of your personality. And Gods knows he's scared to Avernus and back of what this all might mean. But he's not scared of you. Never of you. He realizes that whatever comes, he wants to explore this. With you, if you'll have him.

 

Returning to the present from his recollections, one conviction finally banishes the wandering thoughts in his mind. You deserve better than this. These pretty lies he had been trying to feed you. This mask that he had used for so many years, so many decades. You had given him some of the most important parts of yourself. Your trust, your belief in him, your patience.  It was time he did the same.

 

Ruby irises shift skyward once more, a newfound purpose and vitality clear in his pupils. He has to get back to you. To explain. To apologize. Hells, to bathe in the warmth of your presence just once more would make this endeavor worthwhile.

 

He steels himself before his body begins to twist, rolling to his stomach ever so slowly. An agonized cry peels itself from his throat, unbidden. The fresh wave of pain that crashes over his stomach ripples through the rest of his body, leaving him shaking in its wake. He keeps one hand underneath him, continuing to hold as much pressure on his gaping wounds as he can. The other arm is bent in front of him, poised for what he must do.

 

He begins to crawl.

 

He grunts with the effort, free hand scrabbling in the mud for purchase as he drives his legs into the ground to push his form forward. This is far from the worst thing he has ever endured. But Gods, hasn’t he endured enough in this lifetime?

 

Tears spring to his eyes as he continues his plight. His beautiful white curls are drenched, flattened to his head and dropping into his field of view. His anguished gaze is so unfocused that it doesn’t matter. He’s moving on instinct now, forcing his limbs to respond by sheer force of will alone. The will to live.

 

Somewhere distantly his mind registers that his voice has become an endless stream of moans and broken sobs. Blood continues to slip stickily between the fingers clutching at his stomach. He doesn’t care. He will do anything to make it back to you. He has to. He owes it to you. Hells, he owes it to himself.

 

Time moves in slow motion; he loses all sense of it. He knows not how long he’s been dragging his body forward, just that finally, finally , he reaches salvation.

“Astarion!”

 

He hears you as if he’s underwater, but he would know your voice anywhere. His mind is fuzzy, consciousness fading from his being quickly. He stops crawling and lifts his blood-red gaze. You’re here. His breath hitches in his chest, a new sob rending itself from within. Though this one was not brought out from pain, but rather relief. He's never seen a more welcome sight.  

 

You’ve come for him, battleworn and bloody. Your feet pound the sodden land, racing toward him as you pay no heed to the slick mud. You drop to your knees in front of him, hair plastered to your cheeks and eyes wild with adrenaline and some other emotion he is unable to wrap his disoriented mind around. His eyes trace your face with his last remaining strand of focus.

Astarion had long given up on praying to any deity. What was the point? They never answered him anyway. But you- you are divine. The sight of you here, now, almost has him reconsidering his stance. 

 

“Gods, Astarion! Just hold on, okay? Please!”

 

Your hands flutter in his vicinity for a moment, unsure of where to touch without causing more harm. He watches you, the barest hint of his lip tilting up at the corner.

 

“I don’t think you can make it much worse, darling,” he breathes, tone sounding brittle in his own ears. “Just do it.”

 

He sees you wince before you brace yourself. Ever the leader, doing what must be done. Your hands rest on him gently, but firm. Warm. Comforting, despite the circumstances. He wants those beautiful, lively hands to touch him again after all this. He wants to savor it. To feel them carding through his curls. To rest gently on his arm to catch his attention. To pull him in close, a secret for him alone dancing on your lips. He wants to- he doesn’t know what exactly he wants. He just knows-

 

He cries out sharply when you turn him onto his back, the pain rocketing his thoughts out of his musings.

 

“I’m sorry,” you grimace, eyes scanning over his torso, cataloging the damage. 

 

Carmine eyes are glazed with agony, but he fights to stay conscious. He grunts when you move him again, swiftly tucking your legs underneath you. His head lays in your lap, face tilted skyward and ivory neck lengthened by the newly created slope of your legs. A healing potion appears at his lips, your hand holding firm as you tip it towards him.

 

Normally he’d have some smart comment, he’s sure. Something about being a damsel in distress, perhaps. Or maybe something about how this isn’t what he means when he says he wants to take a drink from you. But exhaustion takes hold, and he follows your lead mutely.

 

The effect is instantaneous; the healing potion is a glorious balm for his wounds. The pain numbs to a background throb, much easier to withstand. The gashes across his stomach begin to seal, the bleeding slowing to a trickle. Astarion sighs through his nose, relief radiating through him down to his fingertips.

 

The rain has abated to a lazy drizzle. It’s the only reason Astarion can hear your faint confession.

 

“You… you scared the shit out of me, Astarion,” your voice wobbles, such a far cry from the fearlessness he is accustomed to hearing from you. He blinks up at you, his gaze taking in your anxious expression as you lean over him. Seeing your expressive concern for his well being is still something he's getting used to.

 

He finishes the potion, licking the remnants from his pale lips as you pull the vial away.

“Apologies, my sweet,” his voice comes out stronger than before, but roughened from his earlier painful overuse. “You know I have a flair for dramatics. What better way to keep things lively than almost dying. Again,” he does his best to smirk, to don the mask of devil-may-care that comes so easily to him.

 

“Gods above, Astarion. ‘Dramatics’? That’s all you have to say? You were nearly gone when I got here. I was almost too late,” your voice tapers off, ending in a near whisper.

 

He blinks again, shocked. The facade slides off his face. Truth be told, your vulnerability is making him… uneasy. He doesn’t know what to say. Why are you so distressed? This is hardly the first time one of the group has come up gravely injured. He doubts it will be the last.

 

He will recover eventually, as he always does following a particularly nasty battle. It may take a little extra healing from Shadowheart, and a belly full of blood would absolutely go a long way in fast tracking the process. But regardless, his body will endure.

He’s painfully aware that his usefulness has… limitations. It extends to his body alone. His battle prowess, his dexterous fingers, his ability to deliver pleasure. But that’s it. He has nothing substantial to offer you. No worldly possessions, no powerful connections, just… himself. His biting nature, both literally and figuratively. His trauma, broken pieces with razor sharp edges. He's not even sure if you are interested in something like this with him, something deeper. No, he thinks. No one could want this. Not truly. His growing feelings for you are one sided, of that he is certain.

 

But then you throw his world off its axis again.

 

“I can't- I can't lose you. You mean the absolute world to me.” 

 

His eyes soften, rounding out as he searches your gaze. For what, he’s not entirely sure. Deceit? Twisted humor? But all he finds is tenderness along with the shine of unshed tears.

You pause for a moment, swallowing. He can see you're trying to continue so he waits, eyes rapt.

“I would miss how you always manage to make me laugh, even when I'm having a horrible day. And getting to hear your laugh in exchange when I do something you find particularly impish,” your serious expression finally gives way to a small amused smile. ”The little sweets you sneak into my bag whenever you manage to get your hands on some, just because you know I love them.”

 

Astarion's eyes widen imperceptibly. Shit. He didn't realize you knew he was the sweets supplier. It was…nice for him. To be able to provide you something you enjoy and a brief respite from all the weight on your shoulders. If only for a moment. To see the stress evaporate from your face for the few minutes it took you to chew. You'd only indulge every so often, when camp was quiet and nothing urgently needed your attention. He'd watch silently from his peripheral vision on occasion, not wanting to ruin your contentment but also needing to witness it for himself.

 

But he hadn't exactly wanted to mentally unpack what this absurd little habit of his might mean beyond the superficial. Hence, the secrecy. He was going to eviscerate whichever loudmouth at camp had clued you in. 

 

“You're there for me, in ways that I could never begin to fully describe. I know we don't always agree entirely, but I'm never afraid to tell you how I feel, or what I think. Because at the end of the day we'll still support each other,” you glance away briefly, and he sees the heated flush on your cheeks. 

 

Embarrassment. Always so delicious to him. For anyone else it means he'd get to loosen his tongue on some provoking quips. How he loves to rile people up from time to time. But now, he finds it enticing for an entirely different reason. Gods, you're beautiful. 

 

You find your courage again quickly, making eye contact with him once more. “I could probably go on, but what I'm saying is… I would miss you endlessly. I can't do this without you.”

What a novel concept. To be wanted, needed beyond anything he could provide carnally. To be desired purely for his presence will take some adjusting. But, if you truly believe everything you said about him, then who is he to disagree? Maybe there is some truth in what you say. If you can see some good in his wretched soul, then perhaps he can try too.

 

“I'm… I'm not going anywhere, my love,” he promises.

 

It flows from his lips so naturally, ‘my love'. It hadn't even been a conscious thought. Anxiety spikes in his gut at the admission, his mind already beginning to spiral. Love? Is that what this is developing into? He doesn't know how to tell; there's no past memories in his mind to pull reference from. 

 

But the smile that splits your lips at his vow is radiant, and he finds that his racing thoughts slow immeasurably. Regardless of the unintentional reveal, the moniker fits. He feels it in whatever remains of his soul. 

 

He smiles then, all honey and warmth. For you.

 

“I'll be here long after you tire of me, I'm sure. Vampires always tend to overstay their welcome, you know,” he jests softly, voice lacking his usual edge. 

 

You gasp quietly and he recognizes it as the familiar sound of you remembering something.

 

“I’m so sorry, Astarion. You've just reminded me, I can't remember the last time you've eaten,” you immediately brandish your wrist, pulling your sleeve up. 

 

He freezes, the roiling, constant hunger in his gut flaring at the sight of your wrist. He knows how close the veins are to the surface there, just how deliciously easy it would be to sink his teeth into that soft skin. His mouth waters at the thought. But he is no animal, and neither are you for that matter. He comes back to himself, muscles uncoiling and gaze connecting with yours again.

 

“I appreciate the offer, darling. But you need your strength. Moonrise Tower won't storm itself, and having our fearless leader stumbling over their own two feet along the way won't instill much terror in our foes, will it?”

 

He can't bring himself to say the truth in its entirety aloud. He truly doesn't want to weaken you before the battle at Moonrise. But it has less to do with fearsome appearances and entirely more to deal with your safety. His feedings always take a toll on you. You smile and wave him off every time, but he sees the effects. Reflexes just a touch slower than usual, stamina not quite up to par with the rest of the group. 

 

It's not your fault he's starving. He wasn't exactly forthcoming about his lack of successful hunts since arriving in the Shadowlands. And you were absolutely overwhelmed with everything going on. Between the deadly shadow curse, Ketheric Thorm, and the Absolute, it was a miracle you could ever focus on anything else. No. He doesn't blame you. He wants you to be okay.

 

He can't be the reason you become injured, or worse.

 

But you insist, your wrist gravitating closer to his plush lips and aching canines. 

 

“I'll be okay, I promise. I'll even ask Shadowheart for a little healing incantation if I really need to. Please, you need to be healthy too,” you plead, eyes doing just as much of the convincing as your words. 

 

He breaks. He might be embarrassed at how quickly he bends to your will if he wasn't so hungry. 

 

His hands close gently over you, one a little ways up your forearm and the other on your hand. You know it's to hold you steady when he bites, but the way his cool thumb runs pleasing circles into your palm sends shivers coursing through you. He presses a kiss to your inner wrist, featherlight and fleeting, but it lights a fire under your skin all the same.

 

“Thank you,” he murmurs before his fangs pierce your flesh. He is as gentle as possible, retracting his canines from the wound immediately. He keeps his lips attached to your wrist, sucking in a saccharine mouthful.

 

He’s uncertain of how much time passes while he drinks, or when his eyes drifted shut, but the feeling of your fingertips sweeping his soaked curls off his forehead pulls him from his reverie. He finishes his feeding, tongue caressing the new puncture wounds as they begin to clot.

 

His irises are vibrant now, a livelier red more akin to a pulsing wound than the darkened burgundy shade they become when he is ravenous. 

 

“You're wrong, by the way,” you begin softly. “When you said I'd tire of you. I could never.”

 

He would look back on this night later on and distinguish it as the exact moment his dead heart began beating once more. But for now, he smiles up at you- one full of genuine adoration.

 

“The feeling is mutual,” he murmurs, unwilling to shatter the moment. His tone is low, husky. More sincere than he's heard his own voice sound in centuries. Despite all that had occurred this evening, he finds a bone deep contentment in himself. He could stay here for a decade in the comfort of your arms.

 

A few moments later, however, the world kickstarts back into motion, voices carrying on the wind to your positions and popping the seclusion around the two of you.

 

Your head perks up at the sound, eyes scanning through the darkness.

 

“Ah, must be the others looking for us,” your attention returns to Astarion. “Think you can make it back? I can help if you'd like.”

 

He can definitely walk on his own, the potion and your invigorating blood have him feeling almost as good as new. But the idea of feeling the curve of your body pressed into his side is too intoxicating to turn down. So he won't. 

 

He breathes deep and nods, resolve settling into his very being.

 

“Yes, I think I've had quite enough of this mud bath. Darling?” He pauses, it's now or never. “After we settle back in at camp, come find me when you have a moment. Please. I think we need to talk.”

-

a/n: Thank you for reading! <3

#astarion #astarion ancunin #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #gender neutral reader #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #fluff #blood drinking #blood and injury

[yzashaven]

can i req needy dom scara..

Like like like like ... he goes away on a mission for wayyy too long.. and the moment he slips inside he starts mumbling and groaning about how much he needed this and how much he missed it..

there isn't an emoji for how blushy and giggly this man makes me holy shit explodes

FEATURING ! scaramouche x fem!reader

CONTENTS ! needy scara ngh, bit of fluff at the start (i tried), some praise(?), reader gets called love, baby, and good girl, creampie, nipple play like once, desperate fucking

NOTE ! WAHHHH I LOVE THAT SO MUCH ANONNN SOOOO i really hope i did your ask proper justice despite being finished late 🙏 not rly proofread

being away from your lover is definitely excruciating, especially if it's for a long time. your boyfriend, scaramouche, is making you feel that pain right as we speak. but you still do your best to understand that he can't just abandon his duties, even if it meant consequences like thisㅡbeing away from you for roughly 3 months now. archons, you just hope that he's doing alright and nothing bad happened to him. when you visited him at his base at the zapolyarny palace, a few subordinates were guarding around the area. it was easy for you to make your way inside since scaramouche made sure that everyone knew of you and your relationship. a few soldiers greeted you but you ignored them and kept walking pretty quickly, eager to just see him again already. once outside of his office, you turn the handle only to find out that it's locked. reaching into your purse and grabbing a spare key he gave you before unlocking the said door. once you opened it, there he is.

scaramouche was standing at the front of his desk laying down a bunch of paperwork about his recent investigations seeming busy like always. upon hearing the door suddenly open, he sighs deeply as his voice was laced with the usual aggressive and rudeness. "ever heard of knocking? what do you want?" he practically yelled which caught you off guard but stood your ground, you were used to this, closing the door behind and locking it once again. he rubs his temples before turning around with an angry look on his face, "i said what do youㅡah..." his gaze softens, "...my love." you rush to embrace him tightly, fingers combing through your hair as he plants a kiss on the top of your head, "i missed you." you whisper out, leaning into his chest to listen to his heartbeat. "i missed you too, love. but i'm back now so..."

ㅡ♡

"fuck, you feel so good..." scaramouche whimpers out as he slowly pushes himself inside you, one inch at a time. once it was all was situated deep inside you, he let out a groan followed by a few experimental gentle thrusts of his hips. "i-i missed this feeling so much-ah..." he says, slowly pulling back until only the tip is inside your wet hole only to gently push back all the way inside, "i needed this, i really did. i needed you so bad." his hands slip under your thighs to hold them apart, allowing him to reach deeper places that made you mewl out in utter pleasure, moaning his name. leaning down to plant kisses along your neck all the while he begins to move his hips at a slow pace that gradually accelerated as the feeling of desperation fills his body. movements sharp and fast yet his words were what seemed of submission, want and need, lost in the addictive feeling.

"s-so good, so fucking good." he says as a raspy whisper directly in your ear, sending shivers to your body. one of his hands make their way up your body to grope one of your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipple by flicking it gently and pinching at it. faster and harder, he goes. driving you ever so closely to the edge. "i want you to cum on my cock." scaramouche locks his eyes with yours, gaze soft yet stern in a way. "can you do that for me like the good girl you are?" now, his voice is a bit shaky as he feels himself growing closer as well, wanting to reach that release together as if in perfect harmony. you nod frantically, legs shaking as your orgasm feels so so sooo close. "c-cumming...scara!" you cry out as you writhe underneath him. and to add to that, his hand that was previously on your breast is suddenly now at your clit, rubbing it lovingly.

"cum for me, please. i'm so fucking close-nghh..." it seems as if he's the one begging you this time. "cum for me... cum with me. please, baby, i need to feel you orgasm around me." his tone becomes even more needy and desperate than it already was. along with his thrusts, speed increasing in attempts to reach deeper into you and get both of you to let go of that knot at the same time. his breathing uneven as whimpers and groans are all that left his agape lips. soon enough, you cum undone right then and there and even feel a certain warmness fill up your pussy, and reaching the womb it seems. after calming down, he looks at your panting figure below him before smirking mischievously.

"i don't wish to tire you, but please... i need more of you, i missed you too much."

#☾★ written » #☾★ kuni » #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin x reader

[mogitz]

Don't think about Lucien Vanserra witnessing the unspeakable: his world crumbling as the love of his life is ripped away from him and murdered right before his eyes. Don't picture his brothers holding him back, making him watch it all - every excruciating detail - as he's powerless to stop it.

Forget the image of him, broken and bleeding, dragging himself to the sanctuary of the Spring Court boundary, barely making it over the line before his knees give out beneath him. Don’t think about the emptiness that surely follows, nor the weight of his grief so heavy it's a wonder he could even stand to make it to safety in the first place. Don’t think about all the times on his journey he just wanted to give up altogether, but pushed on so that Jesminda’s death was not in vain.

Don't think about him having to turn against two of his own brothers, killing them in a twisted act of vengeance that feels nothing like the justice he sought. Resist the thought of him taking weeks, months, (years??) to mourn in solitude because Tamlin, though knowing loss to this magnitude as well, could not possibly navigate the depths of Lucien's grief. Thus, Lucien was left to weather his storm of sorrow and loss the same way Tamlin had weathered his own - alone - hiding away from a world that had taken everything from him

Don’t picture him upon the dawn-kissed roof of the Spring manor, where the dance of pinks and oranges and blues in the sky only seems to deepen his yearning for an Autumn forever lost to him. And don’t think about how in the Spring Court he has found some kind of solace... but never peace. How despite finding a home there, his soul remains restless, wandering, always running from the shadows of his past. Running from his future. Running from himself.

And please don’t think about how Lucien's gratefulness to Tamlin for giving him something close to a family results in a loyalty so profound that he'd walk into hell for him. Which he does - right into Amarantha’s clutches - only to come back less than whole, another piece of him stolen away.

That beauty he was known for? Gone.

Just like everything else.

Don’t imagine Lucien slowly piecing himself back together - inch by painstaking inch. Forget about the way he masters the art of sarcasm and humor, how he wields his wit like a shield to keep others at bay, to convince them, and maybe himself, that he's not hurting as much as he is. That beneath the quips and the easy smiles lies a well of pain and self-doubt so deep it's become part of who he is. That this levity he brings into every room is, in truth, the heaviest thing he carries.

And hey. Don't think about Lucien giving up any hope of being wanted, of being loved again. That his chance at having a mate, a true partner, was as dead as his former lover.

Or how, in a twist that must have amused fate itself, the Cauldron surprises him with a mate in Elain Archeron: his undeniable yet unwilling counterpart. How from nowhere, a bond snaps into place, redefining his destiny and sealing a connection that he'd long since given up on.

And don't think about how when Lucien's eyes meet Elain’s, somewhere beneath all the layers of loss and hurt and betrayal….  a spark of hope dares to ignite once more.

And then absolutely don't let your thoughts wander to his heart being trampled on, again, when he realizes that Elain - like everyone else - doesn’t want him. But at this point he’s not even surprised. It’s just another sharp sting in a lifetime's collection of disappointments and cruel irony. Don't dwell on how he's gotten so used to the taste of rejection and the feeling of being unworthy that he doesn't even think about trying to change her mind about him. Because, what's the point, right? Why bother when history has shown him, time and time again, that even just hoping seems to lead him to more pain?

Don’t think about how despite this, he still seeks her out just enough to show he’s willing to give it a shot if she is. How against his every instinct to protect himself, he keeps himself open to the slightest possibility of her, knowing it just leaves the door open to be hurt. And don't think about how every time Elain shies away from him, every time she looks through him or chooses to keep her distance, it just reinforces  his walls, makes him retreat a little more behind his carefully constructed façade. Because facing that rejection head-on, acknowledging it, would mean admitting to himself that he's still holding onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could see past the surface. That she could want him, not despite of all he's been through, but because of it. That she could be the one to see him, really see him, and not turn away.

So, yeah, don’t go there. It's easier to laugh it off, to pretend it doesn't matter, than to face the possibility of another door closing in his face. Easier to keep up the act, to be the Lucien everyone expects - charming, sarcastic, unbothered - than to risk showing just how much Elain's avoidance cuts him to the core.

But don’t think about it. 

Because acknowledging that Lucien's humor and charm are just his way of coping? That means seeing the depth of his loneliness, the real Lucien who's been hiding in plain sight, waiting for someone to care enough to look closer. And understanding that? It's realizing that beneath the façade, Lucien's just waiting for someone to prove him wrong, to show him he's worth the risk, worth the love he's convinced himself he doesn't deserve.

And Elain, with her quiet strength and her own hidden depths, might just be the one to see the real Lucien. To challenge the walls he's built around himself, if only he could believe, one more time, that he's worthy of being chosen, of being loved.

But perhaps Mor is right - they aren’t ready. And Lucien’s not sure he’s ready to gamble his heart on hope again. Not yet, anyway.

So, really, don’t think about it—unless you’re ready to root for them, to believe in the kind of love that could be their light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Because Lucien and Elain? They could be something epic, a testament to the power of second chances and the strength of a love that comes when you least expect it but most need it. That their path isn’t just about two people finding love in an unfair world that has taken the things they both hold dear; it’s a journey of coming back to life after being lost in the dark for far too long.

So yeah, just don’t. It’s a lot.

#elucien #lucien vanserra #thoughts #elain x lucien #elain archeron #acotar

[kalims]

‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "what the—please put me down,, it's not a wedding nor am i ready to get married!"

bridal style but it's not a wedding,

or in which, they carry you bridal style.

characters. dorm leaders.

includes. gn reader, this is a small treat for over 4k followers :) since I still wanted to give yall one

cw. reader impied to be injured/sick.

note. I rate sumeru archon quest a solid 9.7/10 and yes, I only finished it yesterday LMAO. u wondering why malleus' is different? thats right he's just special. <3

— riddle rosehearts

"you okay there?" you stare at riddle knowingly. eyeing his red face that was neither from embarrassment nor anger. the man in question nods stiffly, adjusting his hold on you in a way that makes you fly for a second.

riddle grits out an answer. ignoring the way he was painstakingly slow on taking you to whatever destination. gods.. he's never been so mad at the fact that the infirmary was so far. "I'm doing just..—" he trips on a small pen that was just coincidentally in the middle of the hallway, nearly tumbling forward and leering you to the ground but he catched himself at the last moment.

and pretended nothing just happened but he definitely just spared a searing look towards the innocent pen. "—fine."

"it's fine. I can walk." you eventually nudge him however he seems more determined hearing your words. noticing your particular look riddle panics. "w-wait.. it's alright! I'm doing okay!"

it's not that you're light, or heavy at all. but in general riddle is far more impressive in the.. magical aspect, in terms of heavy lifting in heartslabyul. he leaves it to trey, cater and other residents who are far more competent than him.

you shake your head, he was being oddly intent with this. "if I can't even do this when you are in need of care how will i learn in the future?" riddle frustratingly sighs. sure, he can admit he was probably gonna sleep tonight and wake up with sore arms but the very least,, you'd see him as a strong person. inside and out.

that was quite suggestive, not in the way you're thinking but rather.. "oh? so.. you see a future with me?" placing a hand on your chest you smile at riddle who wastes no time dropping you. you reminisced a long lost.. experience when you fell because honestly, the pain you felt in your bottom was excruciating.

he glares at you despite the steam animatedly coming out of his ears. "is this a joke? I—" riddle paused as if just noticing your clear pain even though you wear a tight lipped smile on your face.

then he panics again, crouching down. "I'm sorry.. I was careless."

meanwhile. I can't tell if all the pain I'm feeling right now is worth it for his vision of the future and concern.

you continue to stare at the wall in a daze, completely silence as riddle is in an inner monolog regretting his life choices.

leona kingscholar

"oi. are you paying me for this, I don't give out service for free."

leona says but you merely squint at him. "since when was money something you needed?" you point a finger at him accusingly but he just shrugs, annoyingly enough. "dunno. might need it. you'll pay me back somehow. I'll make sure of it." he makes a show of trying to intimidate you with his stare.

you flail your arms around in frustration, pretending to not notice the stare he directed at you when you accidentally hit him in the face. you definitely did not want to be under leona's crazy favors again.. "but im gonna die if you don't bring me there?!"

"it's just a fractured rib. ah. right, tell me. who did this to you." leona plays it off cooly but you know full well what his words imply. now,, should you destroy someone's life or spare mercy on them? meh.. either way you probably didn't have a choice because ruggie was there and the hyena was gonna rat it out to leona anyways. "some random from diasomnia. it's not that serious."

maybe it was a bad idea mentioning diasomnia cause leona has this scary look on his face right now and you're sure he's gonna be 100x more merciless on them since they're in the dorm of someone he hates. "not that serious? look at you. you look like you're gonna die from every breath and move you take." he huffed.

how ironic. "didn't you say that it's 'just' a fractured rib?"

leona just ignores you but he's slowed down considerably, which you'd like to think for your sake when he realizes that you indeed,, are struggling whenever you move.

the silence was quite awkward so after a while you decide to speak.

"anyways. if you don't need money just tell me what you do need so I can get it over with as soon as possible."

leona doesn't look at you until you're at the very door of the infirmary itself. since when did you arrive? time flew by quite quick or he's really just that athletic.

you expect not to get an answer till he places his hand on the knob, preparing to open it and then freezing. then, he looks at you finally. "you. i need you to get better so you can come back to me."

you were about to have an inner crisis— scratch that you were having an inner crisis when there's someone clearing their throat and a seemingly long object making contact with a palm. you both turn and see crewel looking quite furious. he points at leona.

"pups and kitties don't get along. scram little one, I'll take care of them."

leona looked like he just didn't care but definitely iffed by crewel ruining the moment.

you hear something about audacity and kitties.

azul ashengrotto

"i... they'd be better off with someone else." azul trails off. looking away and clearing his throat, crewel spares him an unimpressed look. looking thoroughly bold enough to start whipping his little stick around for a spin.

crewel glares at him. "you are the only person in here ashengrotto. do you think this is a choice? would you rather them writhing on the floor then?" at his azul's lips grow thin and he's trying quite hard to avoid the man's narrowed eyes.

he points at jade; who sits at a chair right next to you. the man in question lifts his head, somehow probably feeling the finger pointed at him. jade does look like he already knew it was azul and grins. he feigns confusion. ".. what about jade then..? he's far more equipped to carry them."

azul debates, strangely intent on not being the one to carry you to the infirmary. crewel drags a hand down his face. "no. that pup is injured as well, are you blind? leech has a broken leg." the man points at the poorly done bandages around jade's leg, an indication that the one who did it wasn't exactly a professional.

you just feel like a bystander to this weird conversion going back and forth.

jade places a hand over his knee and rubs it slowly. "ah.. yes, it's quite the chore for me to walk. imagine me carrying someone else, it must be painful." you look back and forth toward the two octavinelle students.

azul looks like the mixture of bursting a nerve and embarrassment. jade looks at him knowing full well that he could have broken another limb and be able to walk just fine. but it's quite funny azul trying to hide a.. fact from you.

"no i—"

crewel shakes his head. "it is final. you carry them there or else."

to his relief crewel ushers jade to follow as he walks out the door. but his friend still had the audacity to smile at him as he passes through the door.

when I get my hands on him I'll...

"it's okay. you can't carry me, right?"

at your seeming reassurance azul flushes and looks like he's at a loss of words. before he can speak you already beat him to it. "jade told me that you can't do much heavy lifting. in your human form that is." you laugh.

azul looks down in shame and embarrassment. perhaps he could scam I mean.. gain a new client that was willing to swap strength with him?

"that's alright. just keep in mind that I'll be looking forward to see how strong you are in your mer-form."

he flushes completely.

wait how was he gonna get you to the infirmary..?

kalim al asim

jamil is in a dilemma.

he isn't usually someone to tolerate another person's presence but your annoying little self still somehow wormed your way into his heart—non consensual of course. he doesn't like worms at all by the way.

so naturally he's a little.. concerned, just a little that kalim insists on being the one to carry you to the infirmary and as far as jamil knew, kalim hasn't exactly been working on his physical stature with the exception of the painfully long, hot walks in the desert.

"jamil! it's okay. really, I got this." kalim flashes the man a bright smile which only further raises his concern or whether or not you're gonna arrive in the infirmary with more injuries than you were supposed to.

it's not that jamil doesn't trust kalim—actually he doesn't.. but the the boy can be quite clumsy and as much as kalim seems to be willing to give you about a thousand gold bars if you asked for it he just isn't convinced.

plus you're as equally stupid.

and the only thing you and kalim don't know about each other is that you're utterly whipped and jamil also didn't consent to knowing this. so he resists the urge to roll his eyes when you nod. "yeah! I'm sure you have other vice-dorm leaders stuff to do!"

"see?!"

if it meant picking between taking the risk and safety of his admittedly, close friend what would he choose?

yeah he's not dealing with this. jamil closes his eyes. "then kalim would have 'dorm leader stuff' to do as well so I trust you to go there yourself?" which is typically jamil's silent threat but totally with love.

kalim looks confused. "I... do?"

miraculously enough he turns to you and you both start acting like you didn't just sprain your knee. "I'm a dorm leader too.. doesn't that mean i have dorm leader stuff too?" your face scrunched up in distaste at the thought of even more work meanwhile kalims brightens.

he seems ecstatic and you do not. "we're the same!"

jamil tries to cut in. "guys please. can we just get (name) to the infirmary first..?" he sighs quietly. wondering what he did in this past life to receive such a troublesome one.

you both ignore him.

"YES. if they finish treating you we can do dorm leader stuff together, let's go!"

you won't be that stupid to turn face at the relevation, rig— oh nevermind you are.

in the end you thankfully did not arrive to the infirmary with an additional injury but you certainly did get a whirling headache when you did from how fast kalim's carpet moved.

jamil swears to never do this again.

vil schoenheit

you're a little worried. if there's anything you're absolutely sure of it's that vil deserves to do everything full of luxury; it lives up to his very existence! some dirt like you compared to a literal diamond? oh geez, you don't even wanna start.

sure you're no better than one of his fans that fell in love with his looks however you can't deny that it was the thing that got you entranced in the first place. though you will admit that vil had a way with words that got you reeling in the second you met.

there's about a hundred things you'd list as to why you like him a lot.

which is why you're doubtful and refuting his offer to carry you. vil must have other better things to do than deal with you just cause of a small little slip. "it's fine. I can do it go do your thing." though vil stares at you pointedly as if looking for confirmation that you actually just turned him down.

"are you looking down on me? I can do this."

in a panic you frantically shake your head. "no!"

you'd never even dream of looking down on vil. if there was anything that was on the bottom it'd be you while he's WAY up there.

vil softly drags his palm against his forehead, careful to not smudge the makeup that lays there. he resists the urge to glare at you—which he apparently could not, since you already avoided his gaze the moment he cast his eyes on you.

"then what is the problem? I do not see one. do you perhaps don't like me?" vil rolls his eyes at you and the sheer audacity in his words to assume that you don't almost has you quaking in your boots!

honestly what's there to not like about him?! sure his mindset about beauty is a little.. strange but it's definitely admirable.

this time you shake your head frivolously, so much that you were actually starting to get dizzy. "absolutely not. don't even say that, I like you the most." you say seriously and your words actually halt vil right in his movements.

he stares at you again and you realize how risky what you said is.

so you throw up your arms and attempt to change the subject. "well. not that it matters, what im saying is! you don't need to dirty yourself for me."

vil raises that judging brow. "no? if you think so highly of me then surely i should treat the one i like most the same."

me..? you think dumbly.

in your flabbergasted state vil takes advantage of you actually end up in the infirmary still stunned to silence as he casually fixes up your appearance.

idia shroud

idia can't tell if he just fell from sheer anxiety or just he couldn't really do it.

but right now all he wants is to dig out a hole, crawl into it and close it then refuse to leave it till the rest of humanity is wiped out from existence because he'll never forget about the embarrassment he's feeling right now.

right, let's rewind! it just so happens that one of the things crowley gave you as work for free residency in ramshackle is that you'd have to assist professors as an assistance of sorts. simple really.

but then no one noticed the way you deliberately freeze in the middle of walking, pretending to sight see outside when your surroundings are literally spinning and your head is pounding from it. there's the peak of the pound then it slowly calms down.

to your unfortunate it didn't mean the pain went away.

it actually hurt you to stand up. more so deal with the bundle of immature third years who aren't any better than the other lower years! you've seen many younger people be more mature than these guys and it's infuriating.

though idia noticed.

it's hard not to when he has no one to talk to, no one to occupy his attention with except you.

so with his full attention of course he noticed the concerning behavior you displayed. and idia debated whether or not to snitch but he has crippling anxiety and his head is just full of doubts. eventually he came to a conclusion that he won't because it'll 'probably be a mistake'

and he did make a mistake, which is not snitching on you. to think he used to say snitches get no bitches. his silence ended up with you passed out on the floor, and your loud thunk completely silenced the whole room.

and now he's the one being ordered to carry you because he 'understood' the lesson best compared to his classmates—and you both knew each other better.

he doesn't even wanna try at all but why the heck isn't ortho answering his comms?! this is a real life EMERGENCY!

between letting you burn up here and possibly humiliating himself idia chooses the latter. his little prophecy did turn out right since when he got you, and lifted you up he tripped immediately.

"good heavens help me..." idia mutters to himself. unable to wait to see his bed and hide in it for the span of the following weeks.

well atleast when you woke up; first thing you saw was idia grinding on your account with his phone since you graciously gave him. he flashes you a wobbly smile and you wonder why he looks exhausted.

malleus draconia

a school play.

you were picked for a school play.

WHY?!?!? was the first thing you screeched in your mind and you didn't even care that there might actually be a mind reader in the room that would hear your screaming and suffer a concussion from how loud and chaotic it is.

either vil wanted to make you better or terrorize you for beating the shit out of him in that stadium since he casted you as one of the main leads who suffers a secret love from the misunderstood villian.

which would've been okay (it's not) if malleus wasn't the misunderstood villian! seriously, who made this play script?

it's not that you hate him it's just that there's a lot of romance scenes. and your heart will absolutely not be able to take the cheesy lines and start bursting into rainbows and stuff.

and the fact that you just kind of, liked him.

wait how did vil even get him to join the play...? you're sure he would've gave up after meeting sebek.

this time the scene is running away from the mages who found out that you made contact with the misunderstood and is now chasing you to most probably imprison you.

set in a snowy plain, you don't know where vil gets all the stuff to make it so realistic cause even you're questioning if this is some hologram or actually reality.

and now you're literally being carried by malleus as the icy weather bites back at you. and of course as a natural response you just sneakily snuggle into his arms more, you hope he really just doesn't notice.

the lines you memorized grow a little hazy but you manage. "are they gone?" you peek behind malleus shoulder. how nice was it to marvel at the world from his height? you don't know how, or when but there's a warmth on your fingers that has you realizing how numb it felt from the cold.

malleus rubs your hands with his own. sharing a quarter of his warmth to you and you're not sure if the warmth should have traveled all the way up to your face. then, he answered. "yes, my love." the nickname wasn't probably meant for you, but rather your character but it still sends you to orbit.

he cradles your face—wait is this part of the script? you don't remember.. malleus runs his thumb just below your cheekbone, pressing gently and once again making you find out about a graze you never really felt till he pulled away and showed you the blood.

didn't vil say there wouldn't be any real life action involved?!

you can spot his eyes just getting a tad, bit darker. "I'll lead you to my tower, stay there and do not move. I just have to deal with.. something." he kisses your forehead.

you resist the urge to scratch your chin.

"cut, cut! all the things you both did wasn't in the script at all." vil facepalms but the blonde beside him looks far more happy. rook flashes you a grin. "encore, encore! what touching improvisation. impressive!"

you eye malleus with concern. "where are you going?"

"to deal with something of course."

but.. didn't the practice just end?

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed ! #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland headcanons #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #x reader #x gn reader

[bloodybloody]

Whumper who records the process while the experiment is occuring✨✨✨

Whumper is checking the equipment and medical devices after tying the whumpee down to the operation table. They gaze upon the camera, which is in the corner of the room, and start the voice recording. They plainly state the date, time, whumpee's number, which is determined by whumper when they are captured, and the experiment's subject. Then they inject muscle relaxants in order to hold the whumpee still.

Despite the medications they've taken, whumpee is in excruciating pain. They can't save themselves or even move; they merely cry and scream in pain. Whumper is unable to record their voice properly because of whumpee's wails, so they shush and calm whumpee down with comforting words, caressing their hair and holding their hand. Whumpee is barely fighting the urge to scream; all they can do is sob and whine while clutching whumper's hand tightly.

Whumper leaves whumpee immediately after finishing the experiment to examine the record while whumper is writhing. They notice whumpee's desperate but resigned gaze at them while watching the record. 

They thank whumpee for being a good lab rat while treating, headpating, and kissing them.

Whumpee watches whumper for a couple days studying the results of the experiment while they wait for whumper to finish their work on their knees. Whumper randomly asks questions about what they've felt in specific moments and makes them remember the pain they've felt, intentionally or unintentionally.

#whump #whump community #whump prompt #whumpee #whump writing #whump tropes #medical whump #dehumanisation

[ccieatchildren]

OKAY BUT THE CALLUM WHUMP IN THE DRAGON PRINCE SEASON 5!!!

Specifically S5 E8.

First, just him being locked away in the captain’s cabin, isolated and tortured by Finnegrin for the dark magic info.

And him absolutely refusing to reveal anything right now, laughing at Finnegrin for what he sees as a hypocritical thought process, because it would go against his morals and he doesn’t want to give Finnegrin the ability to kill Domina Profundis.

Finnegrin taunting him about his dark magic usage, typical villain spiel of asking if Callum has never thought about it or wanted/needed to use it. Learning that Callum has studied it extensively (and though Callum points out that he has also studied the other types, his curiosity always seems to get the better of him) and has once used it, to save his friends. Finnegrin taking this information in and twisting it on the boy. The defeated way Callum gets pushed out by Finnegrin, seeing all his friends chained up and having to make a “decision” for Finnegrin.

Finnegrin forcing Callum to choose one of his friends' hand to cut off. Not being able to choose anyone, and the gang standing up for each other, offering their own hands. Preaching the love and friendship deal, only to peeve off Finnegrin even more, who tries to goad Callum into using dark magic once again. You can see the way he actually thinks about it, the guilt in his eyes but also the determination to save his friends. Only for Rayla to escape, making sure to take any option for dark magic out of Callum's hands. I believe if Rayla hadn't intervened, Callum would've eventually gone through with it, as the main thing holding him back was said guilt and own mental blockage. Finnegrin then freezing Rayla's blood, putting her in excruciating pain, and Callum, doing a full 180, goes batshite over Rayla being tortured, decking Finnegrin full force in the face. He is calm when faced with his own pain, but when someone he loves is hurt, especially due to his inability to do anything, he immediately loses his temper.

However, this small win ends them back up at square one, with Callum tied up and at the captain's mercy. When Finnegrin tells him that he's gonna feed Rayla to the leviathan, and Callum can't do anything, he immediately gives up the info, thinking that would save her. Only for Finnegrin to turn around and go "nuh-uh," completely destroying him.

He can't even save the person he loves. Callum may have primal magic (one or two of the arcanum depending on how you want to look at it), but he still can't do anything; he is completely useless in this moment. Realizing this, all hope drains out of him, and he does the only thing he can think of, spill the beans. He begins to break his principles by telling Finnegrin the dark magic spell (one of the darkest spells at that), in hopes of him releasing Rayla, only for it to backfire and be completely for nothing. Now, not only can he not save Rayla, but now Finnegrin can kill Domina Profundis. The guilt weighs even harder on him, he has essentially doomed everyone.

Then, Callum gets out, stands up to Finnegrin, using his own arcanum against him, gaining said arcanum at the same time (also, I just really love how he figured it out, using Finnegrin's words against him, and the idea behind the ocean arcanum is just very fun, I just really liked this moment), and save his homies.

So, everything turns out fine, right? Nope!

Callum had to use dark magic to get out, preforming the same snake chain spell he had before on his restraints. When he was all out of options, Callum always reverts back to what he knows, even if it might break his morals. And while this action is totally justifiable, as he basically had to, Callum doesn't really seem to see it that way. Despite knowing that there are parts of himself he can't understand, he still is riddled with grief over it. The deep pain and guilt on his face as he hugs Rayla, not telling her or anyone else what he had to do to get out, shows us that he believes he had committed a grave sin. In his eyes, he is just as bad as Viren and Claudia, and he is still dealing with the PTSD of being possessed by Aaravos, of having the chance to turn completely to the dark side. This paranoia and anxiety makes him keep everything to himself. He doesn't think they would understand or forgive him, and he doesn't think they should, as he doesn't really either.

The ocean arcanum also gives us a look into Callum. He states himself about how it is accepting the hidden depths in oneself, even if you may not truly understand it. Callum's ability and willingness to do dark magic at times is part of those deeper depths. He doesn't truly understand it yet, and may never will, but, like any other human, there are many paths for him to follow. I do not think he is truly evil, or what he has done is irredeemable, but I believe that Callum, like all of us, is neither truly good or bad, but chooses where he takes himself (we also see this with Viren throughout the season). He could become someone filled with light and kindness, a "do-gooder" if you will, which is what I believe he wants to be, but he could also lead himself down a much darker path if he isn't careful, placing himself among the ranks of Aaravos, Viren, and Finnegrin, or he could be someone who carefully struts the line in the middle. The point is that it is up to him. Though he has become in tune with the ocean arcanum and those "hidden depths," him not accurately understanding his potential for darkness could usher him into a much more disastrous existence. Hopefully linking with the ocean arcanum will allow him to slowly accept these parts of himself and find a true balance between dark and primal magic, whatever that balance may be.

(Also the implications of him being the one in the intro rather than Viren...)

All in all, this whole episode was just very whump (even in the B plot somewhat). Callum and Finnegrin were very much whumpee and whumper -coded and you can't convince me otherwise.

The emotions in this episode for the main gang were top-notch. Watching what each character did to try to help themselves and their friends, and seeing the physical and emotional consequences of their actions (whether positive or negative) was amazing. Not just with Callum, but also the others (Ezran instantly offering himself up again and again, practically begging; Rayla breaking herself out to try and save Callum, only to be quickly and severely subdued; and Soren continuously taking the hits to help Elmer find his own worth, saving the gang in the process), was very well done.

ABSOLUTELY SCRUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUS!

I hope we get more moments like this in future seasons.

#☡ #the dragon prince #the dragon prince: mystery of aaravos #callum #callum tdp #rayla #rayllum #whump #whumper #whumpee #finnegrin #tdp s5 #tdp spoilers #whumblr #does this make yall realize how much i love and have hyperfixated over this episode #my analysis #also loved the many rayllum moments in this ep #very nice

[lesbian-kyoru]

feeling incoherent about the last chapter of svsss vol 3 and particularly the sex scene—i knew Vaguely what to expect and was prepared but i was not prepared for how deeply? it would move me emotionally? the grotesque and painful nature of it was so perfectly suited to the story, and i love what it got across how excruciating and uncomfortable it is to be Known intimately by another person and submit yourself to being loved by them.

it's ultimately necessary and freeing to shen qingqiu to give himself up to that Ordeal, and the forced & ultimately fatal nature of it is what allows him to actually let himself want it. and for luo binghe, even without an awareness of what he's doing, it's very humanizing to be accepted so fully and wholly for the most uncontrolled, desperate, lonely version of himself. the line "luo binghe seemed to have found some small sense of security" really struck me, the juxtaposition between the recklessness paired with that gentle realization of safety.

the terror & discomfort of the scene don't feel undesired somehow, either physically or on an emotional level, like they're just an inevitable part of what it means for bingqiu to finally embrace each other—that the love is so strong that it's worth weathering the sheer intensity of it & being consumed by it. it all just felt like a super fitting microcosm of bingqiu's relationship of absolutely clawing and clinging to each other, despite the pain and insecurities it forces them to grapple with, both together and within themselves. it's all very bare and pink and bald-faced! gahhh!!!!

#svsss #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #mxtx #i haven't written meta in ages so i am just word vomitting #i am fucked up! #zoe.txt

[avocado-writing]

if you’re open to writing for karlach, maybe something where she and tav come up with creative ways to be close without tav being burned? or just go nuts and crawl over to shadowheart for healing lol

notes: karlach is so fucking hot (literal and sexual) i am insane over her. i'd love to write for her more

rating: E

pairing: karlach x gn!reader (background shadowheart x lae'zel)

You met Karlach about a month ago, and you’ve never wanted a woman more in your life. 

Every part of her is perfection. Her toned stomach; her gorgeous eyes, her wild hair. You want to touch her so badly. Want to run your hand up the plain of her back and feel her shoulders shift under you when she wraps you in her embrace. Want to feel the crush of her lips against yours, the soft wetness when you press between her legs.

But she is on fucking fire, so there lies the issue.

You know she feels the same. When the rest of the camp is asleep you steal into her tent, the two of you whispering the filthy things you want to do to each other while pleasuring yourselves because you can’t physically fucking touch. It’s maddening. You want to be able to actually do them, not just promise that you will. 

You’ve seen her fingers disappear into her cunt as she moans your name, you’ve come against your palm while telling her how badly you want to taste her.

Gods. you are going to lose your mind over this tiefling.

Stripped off and with a fresh outfit slung over your shoulder, you stomp down to the pond just outside of camp in order to wash up that morning. Your mind is on other matters - tadpoles, mostly, and how on earth you’re going to save yourselves - but you are totally snapped out of your brooding when you see you’re actually not alone.

“Soldier. Didn’t think you’d be awake for another couple of hours yet, the way you tired yourself out last night,” says Karlach cheekily, grinning up from the water. She’s chest-deep, infernal engine running so hot that steam is churning up around her, leaving a clinging mist all over her shoulders and face. She dunks her head under to wet her hair and makes a beautiful arc as she resurfaces, shiny and dripping.

You stare. Your mouth has gone completely fucking dry. Your head has emptied of all thoughts save for two words: wet Karlach wet Karlach wet Karlach–

She raises an eyebrow. “Babe?”

You drop your clothes.

“Fuck it,” you say, and dive into the pond.

Her lips burn with a kiss long since needed, the pain being bearable for the pleasure of knowing her. Her cunt is almost excruciating to run your fingers across and yet you find yourself gritting your teeth and pressing your tongue inside, the magma of her orgasm deliciously burning your face. It’s so worth it. It’s so, so worth it for knowing you can make her come, and what your name sounds like from her lips when you’re the one bringing her there. She lets you fuck her thigh like a dog in heat and it feels like your sex is aflame. 

You have zero regrets, lying in the muddy pond bank, naked body covered in burns. You hear Karlach reapproaching with someone in tow, chattering nervously.

“Yeah, aha, we just er… got carried away. Sorry. I really do appreciate you helping us out, though!”

Shadowheart peers down at you, her mouth a tight line of disapproval. 

“Lady of Sorrows preserve us, look at the state of you,” she sighs. Despite the rawness of your injuries you manage a grin.

“Come on, don’t act as if this is the first time you’ll have used Cure Wounds after sex. I’ve heard the noises you and Lae’zel make.”

Her face goes a bright enough red to match the tiefling next to her, and Karlach throws her head back in uproarious laughter.

Every moment of pain is worth it, for her.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling

#karlach x reader #karlach x you #karlach x tav #karlach imagine #bg3 x reader #bg3 fix #request

[homoeroticbetrayal]

Iconic Homoerotic Betrayal: Round 2

Round 2 Directory

Context:

Lelouche/Suzaku

Summary by Anonymous Contributor

szll is already iconic but I'm just going to list all their betrayals (and perceived betrayals) as a refresher:

(first, for context, one thing you gotta understand is lelouch, leader of the rebellion who believes ends justify the means, is also the discarded prince of the empire he's fighting against. suzaku, rising knight of the empire who believes means have to justify the ends, is the son and killer of the prime minister of the country being oppressed. this is PEAK narrative foils and enemies-to-lovers recipe right there.)

- lelouch and nunnally were sent to japan as political hostages. britannia takes over japan quickly after and lelouch, knowing how much japan means to suzaku, promises to destroy britannia. suzaku should be angry at britannia! lelouch will free them!! except years later he learns that suzaku is now WORKING for the empire? he's becoming a KNIGHT for the empire, betraying his own country and their shared hatred for britannia. what the fuck, what happened to principles, suzaku? this is lelouch's first (perceived) betrayal.

- lelouch (accidentally) kills euphemia, the only princess who's trying to make peace with the japanese, the princess that suzaku is knight of, the princess suzaku LOVES and lelouch adores. now yes, this was an accident, but lelouch ROLLS WITH IT and lets suzaku and the rest of the world believe that it was intentional, thus fully driving that knife deep. he never tells suzaku this was an accident. this is suzaku's most painful betrayal.

- suzaku finds out lelouch is zero, leader of the rebellion, and turns him in to his evil dad, emperor of the empire, in exchange for becoming a knight of round (the highest military status). now if you count akito the exiled as canon, this also means sending lelouch to be BRAINWASHED into serving the empire as a master tactician before R2 happens. suzaku monitors him all throughout, watching lelouch destroy nations and praise the empire against his own principles.

this is just season one of code geass. this doesn't even touch how suzaku is also forced to betray his own loyalties/principles sometimes whenever the "live" geass that lelouch condemns him with acts up. how suzaku would monitor lelouch and keep deceiving him that rolo is his beloved sibling, not nunnally. etc etc.

AND YET despite all of this, code geass culminates with them SWEARING LOYALTY to each other, with lelouch becoming the demon emperor and suzaku becoming his right-hand man, the knight of zero. lelouch becomes a tyrant that suzaku is destined to kill. lelouch brings peace to the world but will never be able to live in it. he will always be remembered as the dictator, the scourge of the world. suzaku atones for all his sins by being reduced to a heroic symbol, by being punished to kill his best friend and never becoming suzaku the person ever again. with the "live" geass, he is cursed to never die, never to escape, always bearing both of their sins -- the eternal punishment he has been seeking. and by killing lelouch, he is able to avenge euphemia in the end, and bring the peace all three of them desired.

code geass is a hot mess but there is poetry in their betrayals. they are thematically bound to live this tragedy, and that is why they are iconic. the ending of code geass is well-known and highly regarded as one of the most iconic endings ever, and it can only ever be so because it stands on the love and loss and betrayals of suzaku and lelouch.

Charles/Erik

Summary by @sing-the-beginning-of-moana

it was love at first sight. they got together and were happy for a while until erik caused charles to feel the excruciating pain of dying (without actually dying), tried to kill hundreds of people, accidentally paralyzed charles, and then abandoned him altogether. and that's just the first movie. repeat with the same sort of behavior and constant breaking up and getting back together for the next several decades.

See other descriptions of Suzululu or Cherik

#suzululu #cherik #suzaku kururugi #lelouch lamperouge #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #x men first class #code geass #polls

[novacqnes]

may i request a fic for ellie williams x fem!reader where ellie hasn't come home from patrol and the reader's worried to the point where she's crying but then eventually they both reunite, and turns out ellie has been planning for it so she proposes to the reader 😭 i'm a sucker for angst with a fluff ending, and maybe semi smut at the end, i'm sorry if that's too much 😳

don’t ever leave me // ellie williams

warning: brief mentions of blood, angst, smut, scissoring, fingering, top!ellie

pairing: ellie williams x fem reader

a/n: done and done, thank you for the request 🫶🏾

“what do you mean she isn’t back yet?”

the words felt like hundreds of speeding trains bustling towards you. they echoed throughout your mind tauntingly, as you stood paralyzed by dina’s news. not a single person had seen ellie since 10 am that morning and it was now over 8 hours later. you wanted to be calm but it was simply too late for it. 

ellie could wander but this time it felt different- she would’ve told you, or at least said something if she’d planned on being out for long. yet she was gone before you could even say goodbye. 

your stomach turned with nausea, causing bile to steadily rise within the back of your throat. you cupped your hand over your mouth to suppress it, but there was no hiding the growing dread plaguing your mind. 

“she told me she’d catch up i just thought—“

“well you thought wrong.” you hissed, forcing dina’s cheeks to burn a deep red hue. 

with each passing second the possibility of ellie being hurt or even dead grew exponentially. there was a reason for patrol and partners held a purpose. without them you were much more susceptible to being attacked, going missing or the thousands of other threats that lay in the deep woods. so although it wasn’t dina’s fault entirely you couldn’t help but take your anger out on her. 

jesse began, “we can go out and look at first light—“

“first light? ellie could be hurt for all we know i’m not leaving her out there.”

the thought of your girlfriend alone in the woods, possibly clinging to life brought you to tears. they brimmed your eyes, burning their way through as you fought to contain them, refusing to lose it in front of your friends. however, rather quickly, dina and jesse morphed into blurred figures, proving that you were failing. 

your heart ached and chest burned, it grew increasingly more difficult for you to breathe. you didn’t want to know life without ellie, you couldn’t bear the thought. you wanted to feel her skin, kiss her over and over again, hoping she knew just how much you loved her. you needed her. 

“screw it— i’ll look for her myself.” you trembled, worry seeping into your voice. 

the two protested but you refused to spare them a glance, turning sharply on your heel. the minute your back was turned the tears came pouring, staining your cheeks. the air inside of your lungs grew scarce and less frequent, sending a sharp thumping pain to your head— but you had to keep walking. 

with each step the pain was magnified, traveling all throughout your body. your limbs felt as if they weren’t yours and you couldn’t control them. your legs were heavy, making movement more ever more excruciating. stumbling a bit further your left leg gave out and then your right until your entire body collapsed. 

the hard pavement scraped your knees leaving blisters and budding bruises all over your legs. despite it all you couldn’t move any further, succumbing to horror that ellie might truly be gone. your face fell into the palms of your hands, offering you slight comfort as you sobbed, overcome with sorrow and apprehension. 

after what felt like hours, a long set of arms wrapped around your weak form, pulling you into a warm embrace. the person smelled of firewood and maple, reminding you of ellie’s aroma every morning. the calming lull of their heart beat eased you out of your nightmare prompting you to look up and see their beautiful face. 

ellie’s auburn hair was pulled back but a few strands fell across her forehead. her creamy skin was tinted with red, deepening at the apples of her cheeks. sweet freckles decorated her face bringing you relief that you’d never experienced before— it was like a dream. 

“how—how are you here?” you whispered, cupping your hands over her face, needing to ensure this was reality.

“i had to take care of something….why are you crying?” 

the words couldn’t make it to your lips fast enough, forming jumbled clauses that ellie was just barely able to make out.

something along the lines of, “dina said— patrol— you— missing.”

frowning, she brought her thumb up to your tear stained cheeks, wiping them clean. she didn’t bombard you with excuses, instead she brought your head to her chest allowing you time to just cry. your body shook against hers, allowing ellie to feel the pain that she’d caused you, and it broke her. 

“i’m sorry.”

you mumbled, “i’m just happy you’re okay, if anything would’ve happened to—“

“but nothing did. i’m here with you now.”

gently helping you off of the concrete, she placed soft kisses to your forehead, kindly reassuring you but you were unable to let go. her touch was the only true confirmation that ellie was there with you. and you feared that in letting go she wouldn’t be. 

she slipped an arm around your waist as you clutched onto her shoulders, painfully raising to your feet. when the two of you looked down you noticed the fresh crimson blood that stained your pants. more guilt mounted onto ellie’s chest as she leaned down to check, pulling herself away from you momentarily.

“no—no, i’m fine.”

“y/n, you’re bleeding,” she sighed. 

“ellie, i’m okay, we can take care of it later.” your voice faltered, planting more seeds of doubt in ellie’s mind but she wasn’t going to fight you. standing back up she returned to your side aiding you towards the direction of the woods. 

“where are we going?” you hummed. 

“i need to show you something—i promise it’ll make sense once we get there.” 

there were few noises in the woods besides the cracking of the leaves under your shoes and the sounds of nearby insects. it was dark, and you were only able to make out the shadowy gray figures of the trees that loomed over you. this should’ve been frightening, it mirrored a scene straight out of a nightmare, but you could hardly focus on it because your mind kept going to ellie. 

she seemed to glow, her eyes were brighter than ever and her skin beaming with color. her scent lingered, reminding you of blissful mornings with her. whenever she’d leave early for patrol she’d wake you with pancakes or waffles and the aroma of maple syrup. they served as your fondest memories together. 

however, the longer you walked the more antsy ellie got. her grip on your waist tightened and the thump of her heart rapidly increased. she pointed her flashlight up ahead, casting a dim light over a brown cabin, nearly disguised by trees. 

“dina and i found it a little while back, it’s pretty old but i was able to fix it up these last few weeks.”

as you neared the cabin you found that it was beautiful. the trail leading up to it was clear with thick logs covered in green moss on each side. lively green plants bloomed from the rich soil, creating a mini garden on the side of the house. the cabin was a light brown made up of oak logs, a brick chimney and a few small windows. 

“….you did all of this?”

“for the most part, although i had dina help with the inside—“

“wait a minute— she knew?” you sputtered, making a mental note to apologize to both her and jesse later. 

“yeah…listen y/n, i didn’t mean to scare you, i just wanted it to be nice.”

she took your hands in hers leading you towards the door. once she opened it you caught a whiff of maple coming all the way from the kitchen. as she led you inside you saw scented candles perched in every corner, illuminating the room. 

in the front part was a cozy emerald couch and in front an old projector. towards the back was a white hammock just a few feet away from the kitchen. inside was a wooden counter, small sink, pantry and a round picnic table with a flower vase in the center. towards the opposite side of the room lay a red door to which you assumed the only bedroom in the house. 

you were too shocked to notice that you’d let go of ellie’s hands, but you weren’t fearful because this had to be real.

“i don’t understand— is this for us?” you whispered in utter shock, pulling her towards you. your heartbeats joined in unison as she closed the gap, brushing the strands of hair from her face. 

“it is if you want it to be.”

there was more— there had to be. her eyes were heavy with fatigue but jubilant, she’d been up for god knows how long preparing all of it for you, but she wasn’t done. 

“i have to ask you something,” she whispered, her voice lighter than ever. 

ellie reached into her back pocket, producing a black box as she knelt at your feet. thousands of frenzied butterflies filled your stomach along with love, exultance and euphoria wrapping you in a cloak of warmth. looking into away ellie’s eyes you could simply drift as she gazed back in a way that nobody had before. 

“i think the first thing that brought us together was our need to be with someone. and for most of my life i’ve felt like that choice wasn’t up to me, loneliness was always the default— but for the first time i’m making the decision for it not to be. y/n, i want to spend the rest of my life, waking up to you, coming home to you and loving you.” 

she held open the box, inside lay a silver round cut halo ring. 

“will you marry me?”

the words rang in your mind, each time growing louder than the next. it was beautiful— she was beautiful. there were hundreds of things you wanted to say and do but it all boiled down to one word. 

“yes.” you joined her on the ground, ignoring the stinging pain from your knees, you cupped her face in your hands. 

“r-really?” she stammered, her heart beating faster than ever. 

“yes, yes,” you nodded, “i will marry you ellie.”

joyful tears brimmed your ears as she slid the band over your finger with shaky hands. she then slipped a finger under your chin tilting your face up to meet hers as she kissed you with great fervor. her lips were soft and sweet— and with the entire cabin to yourselves you had no reason to hold back. 

her calloused hands traveled to the hem of your shirt, pulling it off your body with deep desire. with that gone she snapped off your bra, exposing your bare chest. ellie brought her lips to your tits, cupping her palms over them as she sucked feverishly, drawing deep moans from your lips. releasing your nipple with a pop, her hand slid down to your jeans, toying with the buttons as she looked up at you with pure lust. 

“god ellie…i need you,” you purred.

“you have me.”

gently pushing you onto the couch she peeled your pants off, briskly running her hands over your legs. before going further she moved back, allowing you to watch as she tore each piece of clothing off. joining you on the sofa her hands slid down clothed cunt, circling her fingers around the sensitive flesh. 

“this where you you want me?” she smirked, applying just enough pressure to tease you. 

“mhm…”

she slipped a hand under the cloth using her finger to rub your clit. it felt perfect but you needed more, and the desperation was evident in your voice. 

“please fuck me—“

upon your request a digit entered your dripping hole as ellie used her thumb to play with your clit. the sight of you begging fueling her even more. she sped up, applying even more pressure to your g-spot sending a shiver up your spine. 

ellie knew that she could bring to the brink of an orgasm but she wanted to experience it with you. once your moans got a bit louder she knew you were right where she needed you and removed her hands from your core. before you could protest she removed the only thing that separated you, your underwear. spreading your legs a bit further she worked her way in between them, brushing her pussy against yours. 

the contact was warm and heavenly, you clung onto ellie’s legs slowly moving your hips to her rhythm. 

“shit that feels so good….” she groaned, leaning up to sloppily kiss you. deepening the kiss her tongue swirled over yours, moving your lips in unison. you couldn’t get enough of her touch pushing your hips against hers with much more vigor. 

you were so sensitive but ellie saw no end in sight. she adored the feeling of your wet pussy against hers chasing after the same end result. she was entranced by the obscenities that fell from your lips, they sounded like music to her ears.

“fuck me harder.” you whimpered, digging your nails into ellie’s skin as you grinded against her desperately. your thrusts became more and more sloppy with the increase in tempo, leaving you absolutely delirious. 

nearing a euphoric high ellie brought you closer to her fiery skin, clutching onto you with all of her might. she could feel herself succumbing to it. 

“close?” she mewled, pressing her eyelids closed as her entire body went still.

the words became caught in your throat and your vision blurred. the only thing you could register was a sweltering buzz under your skin that mirrored ellie’s. all you could do was shiver helplessly as the pleasure grappled your body, sending you into absolute oblivion. 

she pressed delicate kisses to your temple giving the both of you time to come down from your high together. the room was mellow and quiet, you hadn’t been there very long but it already felt like home. 

you fiddled with the silver band on your finger, glancing up at ellie’s clouded eyes. they were brighter than you’d ever seen them, so radiant. you wanted to savor this moment for as long as you could, her skin against yours, her vulnerability and beauty— as well as the warmth and serenity of your new home. you never wanted to be without it.

“hey el?”

“hm?” she gazed down at you, a small grin spreading across her lips. 

“don’t ever leave me again.” 

#ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie williams angst #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #wlw #wlw smut #wlw angst #wlw fluff #ellie williams fanfic #tlou fanfic #requests #ellie request

[xer-melody]

Rookie

Cullen family x adopted!human!male reader(!platonic!)

Warning: hurt/comfort, three original characters, readers friend sucking, a potential new friend tho, swearing, fighting, blood, getting arrested, mostly Carlisle centered.

Words: 2364

Summary: Y/n Cullen wants to tryout for the Baseball team

(A/n: I’d just like to say fuck Stephanie Meyers. Also this is my first request fill so yay!)

Request by anonymous : Cullen family x adopted!human!male reader hurt/comfort(?) where R wants to try out for the school baseball team, but his friends have little faith in him so he starts to self-doubt. So the rest of the Cullens help their youngest sibling practice and he eventually gets on the team. :)

The Forks High School baseball team had just lost a player. Well, not ‘lost’ but he decided that he'd rather play basketball instead, leaving an open spot on the team just a month and a half before baseball season. And you decided to fill that spot. Last season, tryouts had filled up quicker than anyone could have possibly thought they would, but the entirety of the old team was graduating that year, so with twenty-six spots open, people -most not even knowing how to play- flooded the coach in applications. And in an attempt at management, a team was hastily picked and tryouts were closed before you even got a chance.

While that first season was beyond painful to watch, they've gotten better over the last year, way better.

Ronan leaving the baseball team was, for the most part, a secret, at least for the time being. But he knew you liked to play, so he told you, and while you weren't friends with Ronan, you're glad you were the first he considered to take his spot.

That same day, in between classes, you practically ran to the coach's office and asked for an application.

Turns out applications had changed a bit from last year. Considering the fiasco that was the previous tryouts, he'd made it a bit harder to join. Instead of applications being a simple one-page, name-birthday-signature ordeal like it had been for years, it's become a ten page contract.

‘To weed out the fakers’ he said.

Now you were sitting in the schoolyard on the second to last step of the bleachers, half watching the team practice, half trying to fill out this seemingly never ending application.

“‘Have you ever broken a bone?’ no..” you muttered to yourself, checking off another box among dozens of other tiny boxes.

While the questions weren't particularly hard, there were hundreds of them. And you understood why but goddamnit this used to be so simple.

Leaning back against the beaches you watched as the eighth inning began, short words were exchanged between members as they switched spot, the catcher, a guy named Thomas, let out a playfully excruciating yell as he stood from his squating position for the first time nearly 20 minutes, his teammates laughed, and you let out a small chuckle along with them before returning your attention to the application.

‘Do you have siblings? If so, how many?’ was the next question on the packet.

Another filler question, as many had been, only maybe 20 of the questions retained to your health, or your ability to play.

A few minutes later and you were still answering questions, but kept a mental score of of who did what and how much longer until the ninth inning.

A few more minutes passed and you were nearly done, just a page and a half to go. You could get that done before practice was even over. You clicked your pen as you tried to think when was the last time you went to a doctor that wasn’t Carlisle.

Then, without warning, the application was pulled from your hands.

Looking up you saw the sudo captain of the Forks Baseball team, Apollo, who you only really knew two things about, both his parents were Greek mythology nuts, and despite baseball teams not technically having a captain, he was the captain. He dragged the team out of the mud by himself, and then proceeded to knock every game of the season out of the park.

And for a reason you couldn’t comprehend, he smiled down at you after quickly glancing over your application.

“You joining the team?” He asked, slightly out of breath (he ran across the field to talk to you).

“I’m going to try..” you responded quickly.

He chuckled, leaning up against the fence separating the two of you he said, “That’s good, we need someone like you-” he passed the application back, “You’ve been at basically every practice and game this team has ever had, won’t take you long to get the hang of things.”

“I play with my siblings all the time, playing on this team shouldn’t be too hard..”

At that, his smile widened.

“You’re confident, I like that. Can’t wait to have you on the team..”

He turned as the current right-fielder called him over.

“I expect you to see you at tryouts- on time, alright Cullen?”

“Alright..”

“Have you lost you’re goddamn mind!” Your self proclaimed ‘best-friend’, Jamison shouted.

You felt like your eardrum was going to burst if he kept yelling in your ear like that. You were driving him home and chatting when the topic of baseball came up, while he wasn’t too much of a fan, his older brother was on the baseball team. The moment you told him you were trying out he blew up.

“Maybe the rest of your siblings might stand a chance but come on Y/n, be realistic for a moment.”

“I am, I’ve been playing for years, I'm pretty sure I can make the team.”

He groaned, rubbing his hand down his face in frustration,

“Dude, the entire team is getting full ride scholarships, you can’t just come in and fuck that up!”

Stopping at a red light you turned to face him, “Who says I’m going to fuck it up?”

“Just..” he groaned again, “You’re not as good as them man.”

“You’ve never seen me play.”

“Still, just think about it playing with your siblings is different, they go easy on you because they don’t want to hurt your feelings, other teams won’t give a shit about you or your feelings!”

The light turned green and you moved your foot from the breaks to the gas, thinking just how wrong he was. This asshole had never seen you play, he didn’t even know anything about the sport and he was trying to tell you that you’d bring the team down.

“Whatever man,” You muttered.

You tried to ignore his words as best as you could, but such heavy doubt coming from one of your closest friends stung. Tapping your finger against the steering wheel, you breathed in deeply in an attempt to calm the anger that was slowly bubbling under your skin.

“Y/n, I love you man, but don’t do this, you’re good at…stuff, but not this. Just let somebody else try.”

You sighed, slamming your foot on the breaks, making Jamison jerk forward, nearly slamming his head on the dash board. You looked at your rear view mirror, no cars as far as you could see, you look forward, no cars. Then, as though the past three years of friendship meant nothing, you said,

“Get out.”

“What?”

“You heard me, get out of my car.”

He scoffed, sitting back in his seat, “Are you serious?”

After a second of silence he got out of the car.

And you got out right after him.

The familiar smell of human blood traveled through the Cullens’ home, followed by your scent, followed by Charlie’s.

Four loud knocks echoed through the quiet house, all were hesitant to move. But Carlisle, being the closest to the door, moved to open it.

Behind it he found a very irritated Charlie who was holding your arm behind your back. Blood ran from your nose all the way down to your chin, but other than that you seemed mostly unharmed.

Charlie gave a quick glance to you, then back to Carlisle.

“Found him fighting some kid in the middle of the road.” He said, sounding almost as disappointed as Carlisle felt.

You refused to met your fathers eyes. You have never disappointed him before, not in this way at least. You knew that fighting Jamison would lead to you getting in trouble with Carlisle eventually, you imagined every scenario as you rode home in the back of Charlie's car, but Carlisle crushing gaze of disappointment was harder to face than anything you could have imagined

You tuned out their conversation, but never missed the looks Carlisle would give you every so often, disappointment and worry clear on his face.

You didn’t move until you felt your fathers hand on your shoulder, pulling you into the house.

You heard something along the line of “don’t do it again” from Charlie and then the front door closing behind you.

Now you were facing the entire Cullen family, your family, as they swarmed you with questions. Questions you really didn’t want to answer, not now anyways. So, the moment you found an opening, you slid passed them and up the stairs. While any of them could have stopped you at any moment, they didn’t, instead watching as you climbed the stair and disappeared behind the wall, a second later they heard your door slam shut.

Laying on your bed, armed crossed over your chest, glaring at the ceiling above you, irritation coming off of you in waves as the fight replayed in you mind. You kicked his ass but he got a single good shot at you and it was with a rock, not even with his own fist the fucking coward. What kind of person throw stones?

You groaned in frustration, you should have put his ass to the goddamn hospital, maybe that would have given him some time to figure out how to not be a total dick!

You don't know how long you sat there stewing in your own frustration, but someone did eventually come to check on you. You heard the knocks, still you hesitated to get up. You didn't feel like talking, or explaining yourself. You did what you did and that was final.

But, then your father's soothing voice called for you and all the stubbornness you'd been harboring to avoid persecution slipped away.

Pushing yourself up and out of bed you walked to the door, and were met by Carlisle's no longer disappointed face, now replaced by worry.

He sighed before he spoke, grabbing your face and examining your still-bleeding nose.

A moment later you were both sat on your bed as he prodded your nose, tissue held to your nose as he asked you.

“Does this hurt?”

“No.”

He moved to another spot.

“What about this?”

“No.”

He sighed again.

“It's not broken, are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No.”

With that he sat back.

“So are you going to tell me why you fought Jamison, I thought he was your best friend?”

“He was,” Groaning, you said, “until today!”

Falling back onto the bed with a huff, letting your legs dangle off the edge.

“Do you remember what happened last year? With the tryout for the baseball team?”

“Yes, you said they were over before they even started, why?”

“One of the members of the baseball team dropped out, and he specifically asked me to try out and take his place.”

Carlisle smiled, but it faded quickly once he saw the hurt expression on your face.

“That's a good thing, isn't it?”

His words only frustrated you more. not with him, but with your so-called best friend, “It is! But when I told Jamison, he blew up on me- told me I'd only bring the team down. Then he told me to not even try because he thinks I'll fuck up their scholarship.”

“Sorry, I just-” you sighed, “it's just so stressful- I don't know if I even want to join the team anymore. I don't even know if I could! I went through all that trouble with applying and I don't know if they’d even let me on.”

Another sigh left Carlisle. Without saying a word he wrapped his arms around you, his cold embrace comforting beyond anything else. You huffed, irritation and betrayal still scorched through your vein but this lessened it.

A moment passes and you mutter, “thanks dad..”

“It’s alright son..” after a moment he continued, “never take advice from someone who doesn’t have your best interest in mind. As your father, I have nothing but your best interest in mind, so I'll tell you this-”

He pulled back for a second, looking down at you, a small smile on his face.

“Try out for the team, you've played with vampires, I'm sure a group of human boys will be more than impressed with your skills.”

With another sigh you held back a grin, your mood- and your heart- feeling tons lighter.

“Well if you insist, I guess I'll have to-”

And then your door was slammed open, the entire Cullen clan standing behind it, except for Emmett, who'd accidentally pushed the door open by pushing his body weight against it while your siblings were violently eavesdropping.

“…surprise?” Alice tried, holding up a metal bat as both a peace offering and mild defense.

“We were just uh-” Emmett started, but fell short.

“-going to help you practice…for your tryout.” Belle finished smoothly- well as smoothly as she could with a speech pattern as unconventional as hers.

With a wide grin Alice tossed the bat at you, you caught it seamlessly, having done it thousands of times over the years.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Tryouts were over. You were laid out on the dirt, which you were also covered in, the other attendees were in similar positions. Though some were closer to passing out from exhaustion than others. You, on the other hand, we’re just enjoying the sunshine and the breeze after a surprisingly tame tryout.

You closed your eyes, taking in your surroundings with your other sense, the most prominent of which was you potential competition gasping for air just a few feet away.

“You’re not even tired?” A familiar voice said.

Opening your eyes, you saw Apollo, nearly blocking out the sun.

“Not really.”

He let out a short laugh, looking over at the rest of the candidates with his hands on his hips.

“Well, shit- ain’t that something.”

He kneeled down next to you.

“So coach is the one who usually makes these calls with who gets picked after tryout, but you know what I’m pretty damn sure it’s gonna be you.”

“Really?”

“Really, I’ll see you at our next practice-“ then, unexpectedly he whipped his baseball cap off and tossed it onto your face, “-rookie.”

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight x y/n #twilight x male reader #twilight x male!reader #twilight x reader #x male reader #male reader #male!y/n #male!reader #x male!reader #adopted!reader #x reader #reader insert #carlise cullen #alice cullen #emmett cullen #bella swan #sibling!reader #brother!reader