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alwayscorvus · 2 days ago

Note

Hello, can I request Brant from Wuwa who had an argument with male!reader and the reader kinda give him space by avoiding Distancing himself from Brant.

When they both cooled down٫ reader is getting hit on by some lady and Brant swoops in and tells her that's his man :)

Jealousy and yearning

malereader x Brant, fluff; love this! couldn't wait to write this. thanks 4 the request! when I read it, it sounds different than usual, but let's see if you can enjoy it Fck I should focus on the scene that people ask me to do and not make long openings... But I can'ttt

-You always take it out on me!

-I’m just worried about you

-You question my decisions! - Brant threw his hands up in frustration.

-I just think that it’s not the best idea for you to go there. Especially alone -you tried calmly. Though his sharp voice, definitely contrasting with your softer, more composed one, was starting to get on your nerves.

-I won’t be alone!

Not good. As if you were talking to a wall...

-Yeah, you’ll be with some guy you just met

Brant put his hands on his hips, turned his head towards you, and gave you a look filled with something between contempt and boredom.

-Oh please, don’t be jealous

Jealous? You? Was he even serious?

You were probably starting to get angry.

-Don't be silly, i'm not jealous, i just-

-What?! Maybe you want to be a captain yourself?!

He didn’t even let you finish. Only yelled like a madman.

-You know that’s not what I mean -you said, trying hard to keep your voice calm and measured.

You wanted to act mature. Responsible.

You wanted him to understand your point of view. To realize that you didn’t mean any harm.

-But on the other hand, you don’t accept that I am the captain! You knew what you were getting into when you started to go out with me!

Andddd-... that's it.

Your patience has just run out.

-And that's the only reason why I should let you put yourself in danger now!?

You couldn't stand it. Where did your Brant go? Who were you actually just arguing with?

-I was never afraid of risk. If you didn't like it then there was no need to ask me out!

You replied to the loud shouting with visible irony:

-Oh, im so sorry that I fell in love with you

-Yeah! You should be!

...

Ouch.

That hurt.

What was that actually supposed to mean? It didn't make any sense at all. Like the whole argument.

Again, another quarrel. You were young, naive. Full of lively emotions. You often happened to exchange opinions. This stirred up the atmosphere a bit, woken up passion. Sometimes such exchanges were just healthy. You were able to get to know each other's perspectives. Come to some sort of agreement-

But not at this point. Today you crossed some boundaries. Neither of you wanted to compromise. Neither of you wanted to understand the other. Only to make his own stand.

You hated when Brant put himself at risk. When he gambled his life. You couldn't bear to see wounds on his body. To endure his groans of a pain. The thought that you could lose him pierced your heart.

And he didn't understand your fears. He grew up alone. He always knew how to manage himself, how to get out of any trouble. How to survive. He was strong, resourceful. He knew how to take care of himself, without anyone's help. Eventually, from nothing, he became the captain of a great ship. He was capable of a lot.

But sometimes he just forgot that now he didn't have to do it all by himself anymore. That he had you. Someone who wanted to take care of him.

He couldn't understand that your fear didn't come from a doubt in his abilities, but from pure love and a desire to help.

But his words… he certainly didn't mean it. He was surely throwing out random thoughts in emotion. He just wanted to annoy you. To win an argument. And at the same time he wanted for it to hurt.

You couldn't bare it. You didn't want to hear it. You didn't need any more insults.

You also didn't want Brant to go too far. For him to regret later. He would scold himself after and walk around with scolded face.

Despite all the hate and anger you just felt, you loved him so much. You cared about him an his well-being. You had a soft spot for him.

That's why you made the only responsible decision at that moment.

You got up and left.

With a slight slamming of the door.

Despite everything, you were angry. And a hint of immaturity told you to assert your “dominance”. At that moment it didn't sound as silly as it did in the next day.

On the way out you made another decision. That you would give him some space. To let him cool off a bit.

… And also to let it hurt a little.

And that's how your whole morning passed.

And noon…

And afternoon…

And then, the evening came. A tough evening.

It didn't take much for Brant to miss you. He was practically inseparable. You did everything together. And thanks to the fact that you were his right hand on the ship, you weren't even separated by work. While he was behind the wheel, you were studying maps right next to him, consulting with him about next destination of your voyages.

While you were delegating tasks to young sailors, he was watching you with curiosity, sitting cross-legged on a large wooden barrel.

While he was negotiating deals with some suspicious visitors, you always stood beside him, sending them a threatening look as a warning.

Together you checked out new merchandise. Together you went on escapades in new territory. Together you fought and together you spent all your free time.

It's almost surprising, that Brant himself wanted to go on a mission without you. After all, whenever he returned from such tasks, he fell tearfully into your arms and swore that he would never leave you again, because he misses you too much.

Or rather, he made you promise to never to leave him. He felt so helpless without you…

But you guess that history liked to repeat itself.

Brant liked to break off the leash sometimes, driven by sudden emotions. However, he was quickly caught by the abandoned puppy syndrome.

Exactly as in this case.

He didn't notice it at first. The fact that he was eating breakfast alone. The fact that no one was answering crew's stupid questions for him. The fact that no one followed him like a second shadow.

He completely forgot about you.

In the afternoon, however, things began to change.

Something stopped to fit right. Whole situation became suspicious. It was as if something had messed up his routine.

Standing alone on the dock, he didn't know who to smile at. Eating lunch, he had no one to ask for salt. Looking through papers in the office, he had no one to ask for a magnifying glass.

Same goes with performing. In rehearsal, he felt no joy in playing. As if the most important person in the audience was missing and thus the whole point. He didn't feel that piercing gaze following his every move. He didn't hear whistles or applause of satisfaction. Warm words after a good performance or a few longed-for remarks, necessary to improvement in the future.

He began to wonder. He furrowed his brow, walked absent around the ship and bumped into random people. Generously apologizing afterwards.

Some of his comrades asked what happened, if everything was okay. And he just waved his hand at them. They even began to wonder where you were, they wanted to ask for your help. They knew that only you could bring Brant back to normal. However, after meeting you and seeing your firm stare, they didn't even dare to ask. They turned quickly on their heels and forgot about the subject. Allowing you to work out your own problems.

Hours passed. Bloody difficult hours. And Brant finally understood.

All these things were done for him by one particular person. A person who loved to pamper him. To be kind and helpful to him. Even when he was whining. Someone who always made him laugh, listened to him and drowned out the boredom that Brant hated so much. That person was you.

But after all, you couldn't take a grudge against him forever. Right?

Brant decided to show you mercy and help you a little in your attempt to win him back. To give you an excuse to smooth things over so that things could go back to how they used to be.

Proud of himself and with a confident smile, he proceeded to execute his plan.

A small dramatic turn. A fake stumble. And a spectacular fall down the stairs into the abyss of lower deck. Perfect opportunity for you to move from a place not far away and be able to rush towards him. To catch him in your arms.

He specifically chose the right time and place just to feel your strong embrace and security of your closeness.

But he didn't hear any stamping of feet. Only terrified sounds of his companions with definitely poor reflexes.

Shit.

At the last moment, he used his forte to release some rope and grab onto the railing above.

Apparently, today he had to act as his own hero-

Fair enough.

After all, he told you that he could take care of his life and health. It would be foolish to question that now. But after all, it didn't apply to small things…

So he tried again.

But what was his surprise when, while dropping his compass beside you, he failed to get your help.

Only a loud clang and his gasp.

As if you didn't care at all.

Brant looked dumbfounded at the small object lying alone on the wooden boards. Why didn't you pick it up? Why didn't you hand it to him with a warm smile after which Brant could roll his eyes and, after faking seconds of thought, forgive you and let you return to his side? Why didn't you even look in his direction? Why you just walked past, busy talking to other sailor?

Okay.

Disasters happen. Maybe you just didn't notice. Maybe he should sign you up for a medical visit with that poor hearing of yours...

But you certainly must have noticed when he squeezed between dining room table and a bench on which you were sitting. Deliberately arcing his back. So inviting... Exposing his curves that you were so fond of. Just to encourage you- tempt you- make you lose control.

Orrr-… you could.

Things were beginning to call for drastic measures.

But after all, he couldn't apologize. Definitely couldn't. He had too much pride for that. Besides, you taught him this yourself. Brant didn't have to apologize. He wasn't just a captain, he was also like your little bratty princess.

Okay maybe not so little. Mostly not bratty. And for calling him a princess in front of the crew he probably would have thrown you overboard.

But-

You were always the one who made the first move. You liked to do things for him and couldn't stand the thought that he was sad. It was enough for Brant to send you eyes of a beaten up puppy from afar, asking to be taken in, and you were already running towards him and making all your misunderstandings go away.

But not this time.

Dear Jue. Why did you have to be so stubborn.

Especially now. Brant couldn't stand it.

He missed you so much-

He just wanted to soak in the silk sheets and be pampered with kisess by you until all his stresses from today were gone.

He will no longer go alone on any mission. He swears! Just take him back-... Please

Night has come. A period of celebration. That moment when Brant ordered time off for the entire crew. To relax a bit. Too bad that it didn't apply to him as well.

At least not today.

You decided to have some fun. Entire senior staff. You headed out to town, to one of nightclubs. The one with a shaddy reputation.

Rinascita's elite have always fooled around here. Golden spoon generations and those who knew how to crash.

Music here was loud and lights were colorful. Almost like any club, but in that air you could sense that aristocratic shabbiness. Laughs more fake than usual. Ostentatious clink of crystal glasses. And the drops of decades-old liquors that were falling prudently.

Splendor of expensive pearls and precious rhinestones competed with the beauty of personalities not tainted by work. It wasn't hard to feel on oneself mirroring gaze of others. Some searched for the best victims. Hoping to turn one night into a ring on a finger. Others oozed venom into their competitors. Whether they were hoping for a good candidate to settle down or just one for a passionate fun. Everyone was a rival here. Everyone was trying to be the most beautiful. Throwing on their best furs, tight outfits and putting on themselves the best make-up to highlight their features as much as possible. They batted their eyelashes, clicked their heels, playfuly curled hairs on their fingers.

Brant didn't need any of above to draw crowds. Or at least he didn't need to make such an effort. Even without expensive accessories, he unknowingly attracted plenty of suitors.

However, he wasn't thrilled with all the attention. He dismissed all pushy admirers with just a wave of his hand. Normally, he would probably get into a chat with them, make a joke, learn something interesting, maybe tease his boyfriend a little by that…

Today, however, all the whispers in his ear, all the nudges on his shoulders and every attempt to buy him a drink, bounced off him like off a wall.

He was in no mood for playing. And all his attention was focused on one person.

On you.

You were on two opposite sides of the room.

You were seated at a glass table, on a large, red, rounded sofa. He took his place on a modest bar stool, leaning his elbows against the bar top to which his back was turned. Abyss of glittering dance floor separated you both. From time to time the view of each other got blocked with bodies spinning in the dance.

Brant looked at you intensely, while you didn't even grant him with a single glance. It was as if you didn't know he was there at all. And that's probably exactly what happened.

While you were enjoying yourself at your best, drinking another purple drink, he was on tenterhooks. Debating whether to finally break through and approach you.

But he couldn't. His pride wouldn't let him.

Wasn't his presence enough? Didn't just the mere sight of him make you want to pounce on him? After all, it used to be like that… Did you manage to get bored of him already?

Brant bit his lower lip slightly. This situation was beginning to frustrate him and make him start to doubt himself.

He had had enough. These slimy people sticking to his body, this music piercing his eardrums. This club, you and himself. He already wanted to go home and bury himself into a bed. Crying quietly into his pillow and cuddling up to where your body should lie.

At the same time, however, he didn't even have the strength to get up. As if something was depriving him of will to live. Suddenly the vision of returning home alone in black night began to seem frightening. He sneaked down the dark alleys many times, escaping from The Order who tried to capture him. What's more, he always succeeded. And even if… he could walk out of each confrontation unscathed. After all, he was a big man. Postured, strong and persistent. Heck, he was the captain of a ship! After all, that's why you argued in the first place.

But now-…

Now-…

Now he just wished for you to hold him.

Brant lifted his head up, wanting to give you one last longing look.

And then-

Then he noticed something strange.

More specifically, someone who shouldn't be in your company. Someone who was definitely not a part of your crew.

A long-haired blonde woman, in a tight burgundy dress, with far too deeply cut neckline. She smiled flirtatiously at you. As if confident of her success.

With smooth movements she leaned towards you.

Brant felt how it began to boil inside him. And it wasn't due to the crowd of people or poor ventilation.

He took several deep breaths. Tried to calm himself down.

It's not that he couldn't trust you…

But her legs…

Her damn long legs in too high heels that she just threw on your lap!

Oh no. Definitely not!

You sat slightly troubled, feeling the piercing gaze tracing your lips. Gaze of someone you didn't want to feel.

But how did this happen?

At one moment you were chatting with your friends about your latest trip, bragging about your recent catch. And the next, you heard their immature, sneering whistles, suggesting the arrival of someone new.

This someone must have definitely been beautiful and phenomenal if they met with such a reaction.

You were hoping for Brant. You no longer cared about which one of you would apologize. It never mattered to you. You just wanted to feel him snuggle into your side, pretending that nothing had happened and joining your card game. Acting as your best charm and also the perfect source of distraction for your opponents.

Unfortunately. You could only dream. Instead of your confident boyfriend. His tangled sea hair, stunning, playful smile and beaming, curious eyes. You saw some stranger. A woman. Not much different from everyone else here.

That's how you found yourself in this situation. Blonde introduced herself to you by some local name. However, you didn't pay too much attention to it. You wanted to get out of her bony grip as quickly as possible. It wasn't easy though, you didn't want to be rude or make a scene and the only way out was blocked by your friends. Who apparently had a great laugh at your discomfort.

You felt as she traveled over your exposed shoulder with her long red claws and at the same time how she tried to fix her wavy hair. Apparently, this was supposed to be arousing, but for you it only caused unpleasant shivers. Like when you were suddenly attacked by some predatory echos in the wilderness, who tried to get they claws into you.

Woman tried to draw your attention to her colored lips, right after she saw your lack of interest in her exposed breasts. To her misfortune, all her disrespect of your personal space only turned you off.

In your head, you started making up some excuses. Arranging words in a way that wouldn't hurt her fragile ego. Despite everything, you were a gentleman.

You didn't take into your head what she tried to whisper to you. Promise of an unforgettable night, proposal to go to a hotel-

The only place you planned to go after leaving that club was to your boyfriend's bedroom.

Suddenly you felt something on your knee. Something that shouldn't be there. A foreign leg that you planned to push off as quickly as possible.

However, you didn't have enough time.

Loud gasps of your companions rang out all around. Terrified. They already knew how it would end.

-Hey! That's my man

You suddenly heard a firm and confident voice. So familiar to you.

Shocked, you lifted your gaze up at your partner. He stood proudly with his arms propped at his sides and with an unusual aura around him. Not just superiority. Something more emanated from him. Pure, natural beauty.

He didn't need skimpy clothes, cheap tricks or surgical touch-ups to be breathtaking. He was naturally bloody handsome.

Startled woman sprang back from you quickly. She looked horrified at the new company.

You could see the way she kept closing and opening her mouth every now and then. She probably wanted to argue, but she couldn't. It was as if she sensed that she was no match for her rival. You knew subconsciously that she must have launched herself on taken guys more than once. But the sight of Brant was overwhelming for her.

You weren't surprised with her reaction. You also could feel a shiver. Though for you it was more of a thrill of excitement. The way he was fussing about you was almost hot. Your adorable boyfriend, all flushed with jealousy. He glared at the intruder with deadly look. With a hatred stronger than when fighting the toughest opponent. On the battlefield, Brant at least tried to show his enemies some respect. Here, he showed only contempt.

You couldn't lie, you were really proud of your boyfriend. Or that you could be called his partner.

A sort of soft glow radiated from Brant's posture. Something like a warning. Any person who only dared to touch him right now could expect to get knocked down. Same applied to the violation of your person. Everyone present at the table felt that one inch movement in the wrong direction could make Brant snap. In his visions, he was already going for blonde's throat. Proudly fighting for what was his.

She tainted your body, her sultry touch left behind a filth that Brant would have to erase for a long time. He had an overwhelming desire to show this woman where her place was.

After all, he was the only one who was right for you…

But this woman didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve any extra minute to be wasted on her.

Brant didn't need revenge now. He needed you...

So before blonde could summon the courage to make one last gesture of cheekiness. Brant leaned over the table and extended his hand in your direction.

With a broad smile, you took his palm in yours. A pleasant warmth spread through your body. Brant reciprocated your happiness and this time rather pleasant, laughed sincerely. This soothing sound echoed through the room, drowning out the noise. You looked deeply into each other's eyes and everything around you began to fade away. Disappearing into the darkness, as if there were only the two of you. People, music, lights. Nothing mattered when you had each other.

You felt a sudden squeeze and pull towards your lover. Brant clearly wanted to kidnap his boyfriend, and you didn't plan to resist. Squeezing through the space your crew cleared, you let yourself be carried away by the strength of your partner.

And then you just ran.

Ran far ahead.

Laughing loudly and trying not to bump into any obstacle or break your legs on the steep stairs.

With the corners of your mouth raised high.

As long as you're together.

As long as you kept moving forward.

You felt a push towards the bed and a swish of sheets that raised into the air as a response to your rough siting on the edge of a mattress.

Brant looked at you with bent neck and made a small pouty face. Your heart began to beat faster, and you felt yourself slowly melting. You couldn't stay angry any longer. Especially after what he did in the bar. It was hard to hide how madly you liked it.

You spread your arms in an inviting gesture, and he didn't hesitate for even a second.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed the distance separating you both, and in a clumsy manner climbed up your thighs, straddling you. Out of habit, he snuggled into the crook of your neck.

You looked down. At his beautiful, closed eyes, highlighted with a soft pink line. At his heated skin, worn out by the run and heat in the club. At his unbuttoned shirt, perfectly exposing what you found so hard to resist.

You felt his weight, his gentle trembling. The way he wriggled on top of you to find the perfect spot. The way he arched his back and poked your arms trying to get your attention and seek your touch.

He was exactly where he belonged.

Completely swayed with this, you locked him in a gentle embrace and with slow movements began to roll circles on his back. Brant murmured satisfied at this and inhaled the scent of your cologne. Warm and heavy smell of sandalwood surrounded his senses. Man felt as his muscles began to slowly relax, and he unconsciously started to drift off to another realm. Nothing relaxed him more than your scent - scent of home.

-Don't leave me - he eventually muttered with authority into your shirt, to which you only responded with a questioning nod. You also were about to fall asleep from the feeling of high temperature of his body.

-I said don't leave me - he objected louder this time, pulling himself out of your neck and once again squirming in your lap -Don't leave me alone. Not now nor never. Especially for some blond-haired floozy. I am definitely better than her

His statement was more than serious, and you didn't dare question it. Especially now.

-Oh yeah, you are definitely better. I am much more attracted to blue-haired beauties

Brant didn't seem to sense this subtle irony. Or maybe he didn't want to… He breathed a sigh of relief and returned to his spot. Snuggled in tighter, like a cuddly koala. He was arranging himself as if he was planning a short nap on you.

And then you remembered something… You couldn't pass up an opportunity like this. An opportunity to have a little more fun.

Especially when he was so cute and vulnerable, exhausted after a full day of experiences.

-And what about your Rover?

-[M/N]~!

Brant scowled with that pouty face of his, and you snorted at this with genuine amusement.

You couldn't annoy him any longer.

-Okay okay. I'm sorry - you grabbed his cheek and looked deeply into his eyes - I promise I won't leave you again for more than five steps

When you thought that this would more than satisfy him, Brant furrowed his brow clearly displeased.

-No more steps. You must be close

Shit... what had you done to deserve him.

Without waiting any longer, you straightened up and saluted.

-Yes, captain! -you laughed again at the adorable groans of your sleeping boyfriend- No steps. I will be glued to you, so you won't be able to get rid of me

With a smile on your lips, you approached him, as your promise stated, and placed a sweet kiss on his forehead, sealing your words.

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goddamnitmahtin · 3 days ago

Text

All in Your Head

(a dc x dp au)

Bruce: *shaking Harley’s hand* Thanks for coming to see me on short notice.

Harley: It’s no problem. I didn’t have plans today.

Bruce: *leads her to the sitting area, sitting in an armchair*

Harley: *sits across from him* What’s going on Bruce? Is it system stuff? I thought you all were doing pretty okay last session. All things considered.

Bruce: I thought so too but…. I found another voice or alter I guess? And I don’t know when he got here. If he’s been here the whole time or if maybe I got stressed out and split? I dunno.

Harley: *nods* Both are possible… your split tolerance isn’t the best Bruce. What do you know about this new alter so far?

Bruce: He says his name is Danny and that he’s 15. *shrugs* I don’t know what he looks like. Matches says that he looks the way we did in high school but sometimes he’s a ghost. I don’t even know what that means.

Harley: *writing down notes* So he’s a non human alter. This wouldn’t be the first one you’ve had.

Bruce: *thinking about the dark shadow person with bat ears that crawls around on the ceilings in headspace* I’m aware…

Harley: Is Danny close to front right now? Is there any way we can communicate with him?

Bruce: *trying to check* Um… no. But B is near front. He says he’s gonna look for him.

Harley: *smiles* Your gatekeeper is very responsible.

Bruce: *sighs* I do not know what I would do without that guy- I would not be able to handle our kids- *dissociates*

Harley: *waits patiently*

Bruce: *realizes someone is trying to switch* Gimme a second-

Harley: Take all the time you need.

*a few moments pass in silence*

Danny!Bruce: Someone asked for me?

Harley: *smiles, holding out a hand* I’m Doctor Harleen Quinzel. I am assuming you are Danny?

Danny!Bruce: *sits up excitedly* Oh my god lady- you gotta help me- I possessed this rich guy thinking I could lay low for a bit while my core healed but now I’m stuck in here and there’s like a lot of dudes in here and some sort of bat shadow thing? It’s scary as fuck- I just wanna go home-

Harley: *calming voice* It’s okay Danny. You are probably a little confused about your situation.

Danny!Bruce: *groans, his face in his hands* I just wanna go home…

Harley: *assuming Danny is talking about false memories* Why don’t you tell me a little bit about that? What you remember before joining the headspace?

Danny!Bruce: I live in Amity Park. It’s a pretty secluded area. I have a mom and dad and a sister named Jazz. I’ve got two best friends, Sam and Tucker. Literally where am I right now- because this isn’t Amity Park.

Harley: You are in a city called Gotham.

Danny!Bruce: Fucking Gotham!? Holy Cheerios, no wonder this guy’s brain is so weird…. This place is practically as volatile as Amity Park. This also explains the huge amounts of ecto in some of these kids-

Harley: *frowns* Ecto?

#dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #DID Bruce Wayne #possessed Bruce #confused Danny #danny fenton #batfam #harleen quinzel #therapist Harley #Bruce may need therapy but he also needs an exorcism

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mona-risms · 16 hours ago

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Rumi x reader who's kinda a herbo.. super tall compared to rumi but is like a big saint bernard type of person. Maybe she's like Bobby's assistant or a bodygaurd to the girls, but she's so genuinely sweet and a lil naive but she tries her best

It's not like she's a stranger to tall heights, considering Mira is literally right there, but she may genuinely be taken aback at how your height is so imposing yet you're so......sweet. You're just out here, genuinely trying to be helpful. You're like a sunflower with a really tall stem, and honestly? Oh it's got her feeling a sort of cuteness aggression

You're supposed to be Bobby's assistant but oh my god it's like you're less of an assistant and more of a really helpful teddy bear. And yeah sometimes you can be a bit naive with your thinking, but it's okay!! Honestly!!! Rumi will protect you with her life in every way possible—it's like she's doting on you, like she's the assistant instead of the other way around LMAO. Rather than letting you carry on w being an assistant, she just ends up talking to you like crazy, finding out what you like and don't like and everything so that she can store the info in her brain to give you random gifts via "oh I found this and thought of you" GAJKAHAA she's so boygirlfriend

And bc I apparently cannot write any HUNTR/X content w/o putting the other girls in bc I love them very much, Zoey and Mira both find the whole thing extremely funny. And EXTREMELY CUTE. They both find you adorable asw anyway but the fact that Rumi's literally all over you is absolutely nuts in the funniest way possible. They get all "ooooooo it's your favourite person......oooooooo she likes her girls tall, happy and quirky ooooooooooo" but genuinely they 100% support it, to Rumi's sheer embarrassment 🫶

#mona's appetisers...#rumi x reader #kdh rumi x reader #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters imagines #kdh x reader #kdh imagines #huntrix x reader #huntrix imagines #huntr/x x reader #huntr/x imagines

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camficdiner · 3 days ago

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You are sooo talented 🤩

Can I please have

[1.2] [2.6 + Fwb] (he cancels bc of injury and she comes to help- crutches scenario poor guy is useless) [3.1] [4.3]

☕️ Cam’s Fic Diner — Order 042

🍒 Thank you for this cozy little heartbreak — the kind that lingers in the chest. I hope it makes you smile. I hope it makes you ache.

💬 “Still Showed Up”

✨ Description and prompts:

Character: Quinn Hughes

Prompt: Quinn cancels plans due to injury, but you come over anyway to take care of him. He doesn’t expect it. Friends with benefits dynamic, but with an emotional undertone and

Word Count: 1.1k

Type: fluff + comfort + quiet emotional shift

🛼🍒✨🧁

Quinn’s text comes through at 3:42 p.m.

hey, can’t do tonight.

tweaked something during practice.

kinda wrecked.

sorry.

You read it twice. Then a third time.

It’s not like you had anything big planned — just a loose agreement, a standing “if you’re free” sort of thing. The kind of arrangement that doesn’t require confirmation, labels, or real emotional commitment.

You’re friends. You sleep together sometimes. You watch dumb movies and share takeout. You make out on his couch, sometimes fall asleep on it. No promises.

Still, your fingers hover over the reply.

no problem. feel better.

But you don’t send it.

Instead, you grab soup from the little place he likes down the block. You stop by the store and get the blue sports drink he always has after games. You bring Tylenol, a cold pack, and one of those ridiculous microwaveable animal-shaped heating pads you joked about last week.

And then you show up at his door.

He doesn’t hear the knock at first. It takes two, then a text, then finally the sound of footsteps.

When he opens the door, he’s a mess.

Baggy hoodie. Hair messy. An ice pack half-falling out of the waistband of his sweats. No shirt under the hoodie. And a look of complete disbelief on his face.

“You came?”

You hold up the bag of soup. “I brought dinner.”

He blinks.

Then steps aside silently to let you in.

He’s quieter than usual.

Not cold. Just… unsure. Like he’s trying to figure out what this means.

You don’t push. You unwrap the soup. Set out the Advil. Heat the little penguin-shaped heating pad in the microwave. He watches you from the couch like he doesn’t quite know how to breathe.

“You didn’t have to come,” he says finally.

You smile. “You said you were wrecked.”

“I thought that’d scare you off.”

“Quinn,” you say softly, handing him the spoon. “I’ve literally seen you cry over the ending of a Pixar movie. You’re not that scary.”

He laughs. It breaks the tension.

You help him adjust the heating pad behind his back.

You tuck the blanket around him.

You refill his water.

And then you just… sit.

Side by side. Watching something dumb. Not touching. Not saying much. Just there.

And he keeps glancing over at you. Like he doesn’t understand.

It’s two hours later when he finally says it.

You’ve both half-dozed off. The TV glows softly. His head lolls toward you, shoulder brushing yours. He mumbles, voice barely above a whisper:

“Didn’t think you’d come.”

You open one eye. “Why not?”

He swallows.

“Because I canceled. Because I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

You blink. Sit up slightly. “And what do you think I wanted?”

He shrugs. Doesn’t meet your eyes.

“I don’t know. Sex. Company. Distraction. Something easy.”

You stare at him.

“Quinn,” you say. “I came because you needed someone.”

He doesn’t reply for a long moment.

Then, so quietly it nearly disappears:

“I didn’t think I mattered like that.”

You don’t know what to say.

So you reach for his hand. You hold it. You let the silence stretch.

And he doesn’t let go.

He almost says more. You feel it in the shift of his fingers. The way his thumb brushes yours like a promise he’s not sure he’s allowed to make.

But he doesn’t speak again.

And you don’t ask him to.

Later, when you finally stand to leave, he says your name.

You turn.

“You didn’t have to stay,” he says.

You shrug, smiling softly.

“You didn’t have to matter. But you do.”

You think you see it then — just for a second — that flicker in his expression. Like maybe he wants more than late nights and fading kisses.

He doesn’t say it.

But maybe next time, he will.

#camficdiner #quinn hughes #qh43 #qhughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fanfiction #qh43 x reader

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itwillbethescarletwitch · 15 hours ago

Text

More Than This

Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader

Bob Floyd never thought heartbreak would feel so quiet.

He’d imagined it might be like losing control in the air—a sudden, catastrophic failure that left nothing standing. But this was worse. This was slow. It was every breath scraping through his ribs, every dawn reminding him you were never going to be his.

He’d tried to bury it. God knew he’d tried. He’d packed it down under discipline, under the thousand unspoken things he let die in his throat every day. But it never really went away.

Sometimes, he wondered if you could sense it. If some part of you knew how he looked at you when he thought no one was watching. That when you laughed at something he said, he felt like he was standing in the sun after too long in the dark.

I’m broken, do you hear me?

He had whispered it into the night more times than he could count. Sitting alone in his truck. Sitting on the edge of his bunk. His voice hoarse, the words sounding small and pathetic.

I’m blinded, ‘cause you are everything I see.

You were. Even when he tried not to let you be. Even when he told himself that if he just ignored the ache long enough, it would fade.

But it didn’t.

It was in the way your hair fell over your face when you tied it back before a flight. The way your voice softened when you asked him if he’d eaten. The way your eyes searched his when you thought he looked tired, or sad, or like he was about to say something important but never did.

He’d been so sure he had time. That eventually, when he’d sorted himself out, he’d find the words. That someday he’d walk up to you, heart hammering, and tell you everything.

I’m dancing alone, I’m praying that your heart will just turn around.

But you never turned. And by the time he realized he’d waited too long, you were already reaching for someone else.

He remembered the first time he saw you kiss him. The way your hands framed the other man’s face, the way you smiled into his mouth. Bob had looked away so fast it made his head spin. He’d told himself he didn’t have the right to feel what he felt. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

And as I walk up to your door, my head turns to face the floor.

He’d tried, that night, to tell you. He’d stood there on your front step, breathing so hard it felt like his lungs might burst. His hand had hovered over the door. But in the end, he couldn’t.

Because he knew—if he looked into your eyes and you didn’t feel it back, it would break him completely.

‘Cause I can’t look you in the eyes and say—

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight,

It just won’t feel right.

When he lays you down, I might just die inside.

‘Cause I can love you more than this.

Yeah.

It just don’t feel right.

‘Cause I can love you more than this.

Can love you more than this.

That thought lived in him like a bruise. He could love you more. He knew it like he knew his own name. But it didn’t matter, because you would never let him prove it.

He tried to move on. He let Phoenix drag him out to bars, let Coyote try to set him up with women he could hardly remember later. He’d smile, make polite conversation. But none of it stuck.

If I’m louder, would you see me?

He asked himself that in the dark. If he had just been braver, just a little louder—would you have noticed?

Would you lay down in my arms and rescue me?

The idea almost made him laugh, because it sounded so childish. But he couldn’t help it. You’d always been the only place he felt safe.

‘Cause we are the same.

You were made of the same quiet and the same stubbornness. The same sense of duty that made you both so good at what you did—and so bad at saying what you felt.

You save me, but when you leave, it’s gone again.

It was like a light switch. When you were around, he felt almost okay. When you were gone, everything fell apart.

He remembered the afternoon he saw you in town, your hand curled into his. The two of you laughing about something Bob would never know.

And then I see you on the street, in his arms I get weak.

It was like being punched. He’d felt his knees go soft, his stomach turn inside out. He’d stepped back into an alley so you wouldn’t see him, and he’d pressed his palm flat to the brick wall like it could hold him up.

My body fails, I’m on my knees praying.

He didn’t even know what he was praying for anymore. That you’d let go? That you’d come find him? That he could just stop feeling like this?

He wished he could hate you. It would have been easier if he could.

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight,

It just won’t feel right.

When he lays you down, I might just die inside.

‘Cause I can love you more than this.

Yeah.

It just don’t feel right.

‘Cause I can love you more than this.

Can love you more than this.

But he didn’t hate you. He loved you so much it made everything else feel small and dim by comparison.

He didn’t remember driving home that night. Just that he woke up hours later in his truck, engine cold, his hands numb on the steering wheel.

I’ve never had the words to say, but now I’m asking you to stay.

He whispered it to the empty air. Just once. Even though he knew it wouldn’t change anything.

For a little while inside my arms.

One chance. That was all he’d ever wanted. Just one chance to show you how much he meant it.

And as you close your eyes tonight,

I pray that you will see the light,

That’s shining from the stars above.

Maybe somewhere—some other life—he was braver. Maybe in that world, you were his.

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight,

It just won’t feel right.

When he lays you down, I might just die inside.

‘Cause I can love you more than this.

Yeah.

It just don’t feel right.

‘Cause I can love you more than this.

Can love you more than this.

⸻

Weeks Later

When you texted him—Can we talk?—he stared at the screen until the letters blurred. He almost didn’t answer. Almost deleted it because he couldn’t survive hearing about how happy you were.

But he went. Because he was too weak to stay away.

You were already there when he walked in, sitting by the window. You looked nervous. You always bit your lip when you were about to say something hard.

He sat across from you, and for a moment neither of you spoke.

“Hey,” you said, voice soft.

He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Hi.”

You opened your mouth to start—but he lifted a hand, voice low and shaking.

“Let me go first.” He looked down at the table. “Or I’ll back out again.”

You didn’t say anything. Just waited.

“I love you.” The words felt raw in his mouth. “I have for longer than I even know. And I’m sorry it took me this long to say it. Sorry I let it get this far.”

Your breath caught, and you looked away.

“I could love you more than this. More than anyone. And I don’t expect you to say anything. I just—I needed you to know.”

You wiped a tear away. And for a moment, he let himself believe there was still something there.

“There’s something I have to tell you too,” you whispered.

He nodded, even though every part of him wanted to run.

You met his eyes, lifted your hand and your voice broke as you said it.

“I’m engaged.”

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ballsandbabes · 2 days ago

Text

Connection Lost

authors note: I know this is a very sports themed blog, but i recently stumbled about some very interesting Infos for a love and deepspace character, that got me inspired// y/n = your name// not proof read// GIF not mine // Have fun <3

pairing: Luke (LADS) x fem!reader

summary: Well, its pure chaos,but basically Luke has the hots for reader, who is an informant for Sylus. So what happends when filthy thoughts enter Lukes mind, while he still has the link to his brother??

genre: romance, fluff

word count: 9.5k

The N-109 Zone was colder than you imagined.

Not the kind of cold that gnawed at your skin—though the recycled air in the outpost left much to be desired—but the kind that wrapped around your thoughts. Isolated. Quiet. Too quiet.

You were new here. An informant Sylus had handpicked for reasons still unclear. He’d said he needed someone sharp, someone who didn’t ask too many questions—and you? You couldn’t help it. You were curious about the N109 Zone and it inhabitants, especially about the twins.

You failed your Hunter Examn three times and thus exhausted the maximum number of attempts. Now you were banned and would never be able to become a Hunter. But that didn't mean you weren't good. You did things your own way, at your own pace. You needed your rhythm and that fell apart when they tried to squeeze you into the Hunter Guild mould. You were almost broken. And now here you are. In a new city, without a proper job and with broken dreams. In short, the last year just sucked. sometimes you wished you hadn't moved to Linkon to fulfil your dream of becoming a Hunter. You've had all sorts of jobs over the past few months, none of them well paid.

But when a black letter fluttered through your letterbox, your hitherto dreary life took off again. The mysterious organisation Onychinus had asked for you. In a fit of ‘I have nothing left to lose anyway’, you ventured into the forbidden zone. You had been subjected to a series of tests before you finally met him: Sylus. The head of the organisation. Gangster. Ready for violence. Handsome.

Sylus was loud, unpredictable, often seen with a too-wide grin and a datapad that blinked with encrypted secrets. And then there were the twins: Luke and Kieran. At first you found them totally annoying whenever you handed in your reports at HQ. Stupid questions, sarcastic remarks and just all-round idiocy, you thought. Most of the time, you were just annoyed when they were around.

Everything turned out differently than you thought. One evening, you made your way back to your flat in Linkon, with Sylus' new assignment in your pocket. Over the next few days, you were to shadow a person whose name had only been shortened to MC, a young woman. A Hunter. You had felt like you were being followed the whole time, but you didn't think anything of it, as the crowds in Linkon always increased in the evening. But by the time you turned into your street, it should have been too late. With a loud clang, something metallic hit you on the back of the head.

They had stolen all the documents from you that said anything about MC. The twins had searched for you after your long absence and brought you to the headquater's crane room. You had grown fond of sylus, why didn't you know? But you seemed to remind him of someone he knew. That was also the reason why he had ordered you to live at the base from now on. Before you could say anything about it, your city flat had been cancelled. And that's how you ended up here.

Sylus and the twins had become something like your family. You had lost your father in the war and you no longer had the wish to see your stepmother. You were alone. And to be honest it felt great, to be able to come home to someone, even if it was just the twins. The two of them fascinated you. They seemed to share a brain. Finished each other's sentences and always seemed to know what the other was thinking. it felt like they shared their senses and thoughts, in a sense that they felt closer to being one single entity split in half, than two regular brothers. As you figured out relatively quickly both remained with their own personal tastes and personalities, even though they were pretty similar. You always asked yourself, if that meant that they also had shared feelings.

That couldn't be true for Kieran, he was leaning over the armchair next to you with his head to the floor, reading a book. he was the younger of the two and also the slightly smaller one. He was the calm, reliable, and stubborn one of the two. Kieran didn't seem like the type to share his feelings with his brother.

Luke, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He was temperamental, unpredictable and vigilant. He also had a penchant for cold things, especially ice cream, as you noted. So being around him, felt always colder than the zone you were stationed in—until he wasn’t.

The first time he looked at you, really looked, it was like you’d stepped into someone else’s memory.

___ _ _ _

“Stop staring,” Kieran muttered to his brother one night after you’d left the surveillance room. You weren’t supposed to hear it. But the door hadn’t quite shut.

“I wasn’t,” Luke replied, voice sharper than usual.

“You feel her too. Don’t deny it. You know I can feel your nerves lighting up like a relay. She’s pretty. I get it,” Kieran said annoyed. For his nineteen years, he was sometimes quite altruistic and mature.

A pause.

“I don’t want you in this, Kieran,” Luke finally said, “Not this.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any gravity shift. What was that about? MC, the woman you were supposed to be shadowing? Granted, she really was a beauty. Did Luke fall in love with the young woman while sifting through all the footage? You had to suppress a little laugh. Sure, he was spontaneous and impulsive, but that was a new level of stupidity, even for him.

But at the same moment, that the smile appeared on your face, something else had spread. A kind of sadness. You loved spending time with the two of them, but Luke was your favourite. He always had suggestions for things to do, he took you out of your everyday life, he gave you the feeling of endless freedom. His sarcastic remarks, the silly remarks, they made you smile. You were totally blown away when he knocked on your door and wanted to take you for a night-time ride on his motorbike, in the zone.

But his affections already seemed to be focussed on someone else.

___ _ _ _

Since overhearing the twins' conversation, you had become curious. Could the two of them really read each other's thoughts? The more you researched it, the more you learned. So it was no wonder, that you learned quickly, that the twins shared more than DNA. They were psychic mirrors—linked by something deeper than blood. Thoughts, pain, senses… pleasure. It was said that if one twin dreamed, the other would wake remembering it. It was totally strange. How was that possible???

You started catching Luke looking at you more often. But he never said anything beyond protocol. Never broke rank. Never touched. You were pretty sure that this was a new task for sylus to keep an eye on you. So you thought nothing of it.

___ _ _ _

Until the night, when the rain came—acidic and red, scattering your outpost’s comms and knocking out part of the signal array. The rain in the N109 zone was almost toxic due to the air pollution. If it fell very heavily in the same place, it corroded the surface. Sylus didn't like the fact that you wanted to go out to do your chores. He thought it was stupid and careless, but now was time to shadow your target inconspicuously. So you went nevertheless. And now??

Now you were stranded inside the auxiliary hub, alone, until the door opened with a mechanical hiss and Luke stepped through, soaked and grim-faced.

“I came to check on you,” he said. His voice had an edge—like he was trying not to feel something too deeply.

You smiled, teasing despite the tension,“Sylus send you?”

“No,” he replied.

"Then Kieran send you to check," you figured. The silence stretched. Then, softly, almost like an admission, “Sylus is on duty...Some meeting. And Kieran...he doesn’t know I’m here.”

That caught you, “But… I thought you two—”

“Always,” Luke said, “We’re always connected. Every thought. Every flicker of sensation. If I burn my hand, he flinches. If I close my eyes and dream, he sees what I see.”

You swallowed,“So… right now, he—?”

Luke stepped closer, “Not if I block him. Which I can’t do for long, only a few minutes. But I had to try. He would be so mad if he knew I am here.”

He looked at you then, like you were the answer to a question he hadn’t dared to ask until now.

“Do you know what it’s like,” he murmured, “to never have a moment that’s only yours?”

You shook your head. It must be awful, to share everything. When not even your thoughts were your own.

“I want this. I want the moments we share. But I don’t want him to feel it too,” Luke admitted. There was a fragility in his voice that cracked the shield you’d seen him wear like armor. For once, Luke didn’t seem like the older, colder twin. He seemed… human. Longing. Afraid.

“What happens if you cut the link?” you asked.

He hesitated. “To be honest, there is no way to to so. But if I had to guess, I would say Pain. For both of us. It’d probably be like slicing a wire that runs through your bones.”

You reached up, fingers brushing his wrist. His breath caught—so did yours,“ I cant imagine what it must be like to not be your own person, but rather two. Then how about we make this moment yours.”

You two had sat down. You asked him if there was anything he wanted to say that was none of Kieran's business. That he always wanted to feel that was none of Kieran's business. And so a short, honest conversation began. Luke confessed that he had once been in love, but that it had been a bad thing that Kieran had interfered. Kieran had been afraid of losing his brother, of having to share and had always beaten the girl up. You had asked him if there had been anyone else after that. He had replied that he couldn't allow you to do that in his situation. Not if it was always under observation. This answer brought tears to your eyes. The idea of never being able to love because there would always be someone else around made you sad. It also occurred to you that it wouldn't be easy to find someone who was okay with this situation.

"There should be moments and feelings that belong only to you," you say, leaning slightly towards him.

Mirroring your actions, he leaned in as well, and you felt the hum of restrained energy ripple between you—like static caught in the air, like the moment before a lightning strike. Something seemed to pull you towards him. And as his lips met yours, a tremor ran through him. A split-second later, a burst of pain flared behind his eyes. He gritted his teeth and pulled away, clutching his temple.

“Kieran...he,” he gasped.

“He...what?,” you asked. He did not answer. He felt Kieran bite his hand, a warning. Luke had felt the pain too. Kieran had done it to remind him that he too would feel the pain and heartache if it backfired.

Luke had almost forgotten about that. If you didn't feel the same as him, it would just be a game for you, both brothers would have to feel the strong emotions of unrequited love.

___ _ _ _

Luke didn’t speak to you for three days after the kiss. Not in the halls of the N-109 outpost, not over the comms, not even a glance when you passed in the mess hall and brushed shoulders by accident—though you were sure it wasn’t an accident. You replayed that moment in the auxiliary hub over and over in your mind. The kiss. The way he’d said “He can’t hear me.” The pain that flared in him before silence fell.

And now that silence was everywhere. It wrapped around you like a shroud. You weren’t the only one who noticed. Sylus cornered you by the diagnostics console on the fourth morning. He leaned lazily against the panel, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in a look that was too casual to be innocent.

“Y/n, did you do something to Luke?” he asked bluntly.

You blinked, “What?”

“He’s been—off. Shut down. Like someone flipped all his switches halfway and forgot to put the rest back,” Sylus explained his point of view.

You gave him a wary look, “Maybe he’s just busy.”

Thats when Kieran felt the need to enter the conversation,a s he entered the room. He snorted,“My brother doesn’t get ‘busy.’ He gets obsessed. If he’s not working, he’s reading reports. If he’s not reading, he’s training. Lately, he’s doing none of that. You’re the variable.”

You tried to shrug it off, “We talked. That’s it.”

Sylus tilted his head, smile thin, “Talked, huh?” Kids these days were something different he thought. Kieran watched you a moment longer, something sharper in his eyes now, “I haven’t felt him lately. He cuts our connection sometimes....he has never done this before. It’s muffled. Like I’m hearing echoes through water.”

Your chest tightened,“You said once you shared everything. What happens if—?”

“If he cuts me out?” leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Then he’s hurting. Bad.”

You didn’t say anything, but Kieran wasn’t stupid. His eyes narrowed as the pieces clicked into place.

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me he—? Ohhh. He did.”

You looked down, voice barely above a whisper, “He said he wanted something that was his. Just for once.”

Kieran straightened slowly, the amusement drained from his face.

“He wouldn’t do that. Not unless…,” He trailed off, then swore under his breath,“He’s falling. That idiot.”

“Falling?,” you echoed.

“In love,” Kieran said bitterly,“Which is exactly why he’s avoiding you now.”

"That would explain a lot," Sylus chimed in. You stared at Kieran, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Kieran ran a hand through his hair, “Oh, it makes perfect sense if you know Luke. He feels things harder than I do. Deeper. He tries to control it, manage it like a system, but if he falls for you—then it’s not just him anymore. It’s me too. I’ll feel it. Every heartbeat. Every ache. Every crack. Every longing.”

You stepped back, suddenly cold,“You’d feel it if his heart breaks?”

Kieran nodded,“Down to the last shattered piece.”

Seeing the shock on your face, Sylus stepped in,"We should probably have told you this earlier.... There is an organisation that is experimenting with the protocores on humans. Luke and Kieran come from just such a lab. They were born twins and orphans. That's why. times chose them, or so we assume. I found them on one of my missions when they were just six. They've lived and worked here with me ever since."

"Both Luka and I each have a piece of the same protocore in our bodies. We don't know where exactly, but it connects us and makes us one person," Kieran explained further.

You couldn’t believe it. Not really, but the tears in your eyes said something different.....This was horrible. You could never grasp what the both of them must have been through.

Not until later that night, when you found Luke standing alone on the northern perimeter of the dome, hands clasped behind his back, watching the storm swirl outside like it could wash away whatever he was wrestling with.

“Luke,” you said softly. He stiffened, didn’t turn.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you tried again. He didn’t answer.

“I deserve to know why,” was your last try.

He was silent for a long moment, before speaking in a low voice, rough with restraint, “I suppressed the link to give you a moment that was mine. Just mine. I thought… I could hold onto it. Like a keepsake. But I underestimated the pain Kieran would feel, if the connection was lost. I cant imagine what it would feel like if I cut him off forever...the pain...”

Your heart twisted,“Then why are you shutting me out? Maybe I can help?”

He finally turned. His eyes were tired—dark circles under them, skin pale under the faint glow of the perimeter lights. His voice cracked like something barely held together,“Because I don’t want to fall in love with you.”

Silence dropped like a blade.

“Luke—,” you were taken aback.

“If I do,” he said, taking a step back, “you’ll be in every thought. Every breath. And if I lose you… it won’t just hurt me. Kieran will feel it too. He won’t say it, but he will. We’re not just connected—we’re entangled. We always have been.”

He looked down at his hands, as if they were covered in something he couldn’t scrub off.

“I suppressing the link would make it easier. But it didn’t. I still feel everything, more even, I can feel his pain, his anger towards me” he admitted.

You took a step toward him, and he didn’t move.

“Then don’t do it alone,” you said gently, “If you’re scared, I’ll be scared with you. But don’t pretend it didn’t mean anything. It did. To me.”

He looked up, and for the first time, you saw fear behind his usual calm—raw and honest.

“I’m not afraid of pain,” he whispered, “I’m afraid of what happens if you’re the one to walk away.”

You reached out, took his hand, “Then don’t give me a reason to.”

He didn’t pull away. For now, the storm stayed outside.

___ _ _ _

Let it be said: sneaking around a top-secret blacksite base controlled by Onychirus is technically treason. But it doesn’t feel like treason when Luke has his hand on the small of your back and is tugging you into some obscure storage closet between Section 4 and the emergency escape corridor. The lights in here flicker like a bad romance holodrama.

“Are we seriously doing this again?” you ask, breathless from running. Luke’s smirk is all slow, dangerous confidence,“We’re alone.”

“Until Sylus finds us and ejects us into space,” you teased. He kisses you anyway.

Across the base, Kieran groans and slams his datapad onto the table. It bounces, nearly shattering against the steel surface.

“He’s doing it again,” he growls to no one in particular.

The mercenary standing nearby flinches,“Who’s doing what?”

“My brother. My emotionally-repressed genius brother who thinks suppressing a psychic bond is the same thing as disabling it.” Kieran pinches the bridge of his nose,“I’m getting secondhand butterflies. BUTTERFLIES. You know what that feels like? Like indigestion and emotional weakness. In my chest.”

The merc hurries away. Too much family drama.

___ _ _ _

Back in the closet, Luke’s lips brush against your jawline like it’s classified. His hands settle on your waist and stay there.

“You’re laughing,” he says against your skin.

“I’m not,” you say clearly giggling.

“You are. I can feel it,” he smiled.

You giggle anyway and swat at him,“You’re supposed to be cold and mysterious.”

“I’m a liar,” he murmurs, before kissing you again. The whole thing is reckless, warm, and a little awkward—especially when you both bump into a shelf of prototype drone parts and nearly knock an entire crate over.

CLANK.

You both freeze. Luke whispers, “We need to be more careful.”

You whisper, “You’re the one with your hands on my ass.”

“…Noted.”

After the butterfly flew away, Kieran was able to get back to work. He stares at a half-finished data schematic and suddenly drops his stylus. His hand flexes. His heart rate spikes.

“What now,” he mutters aloud. A flash of heat wavers through his body. A shiver of tension. Someone is kissing. He is kissing? No, not him. Not really.

“Luke,” he growls, eyes narrowing, “You absolute idiot.”

"Like its a suprise", Sylus low voice said suddenly, "I want you to finish your work properly, lets go get the two. This needs to end."

And he was right. Kieran hadn't been able to concentrate on his work for a fortnight because his brother's feelings and senses had been transferred to him. Strong ones at that. It practically put him out of action.

___ _ _ _

“Found them,” Sylus announces five minutes later, as he opens the closet door with the force of a judge issuing a death sentence.

You and Luke spring apart like guilty teenagers caught making out behind a gym—which, emotionally, is basically what this is. Sylus stares at the scene in front of him: Luke’s jacket half-off, your lipstick smeared, both of you wide-eyed like escapees from a romance drama.

“You know,” he says flatly, “I may be the leader of a semi-illegal black ops mercenary syndicate, but even I have standards. A closet, really???”

Luke brushes imaginary dust off his shirt. “We weren’t—”

“I KNOW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. I FELT IT THROUGH THE BOND, Luke. I had to stop working because you were ‘probably not being tortured.’” Kieran gestures with both hands, enraged, “Do you have any idea how awkward it is to get secondhand arousal from my own twin? This is emotional WARFARE.”

“Sorry,” you apologized sheepishly.

Sylus turns to you, eyes narrowed. “And now to you young Lady. I trusted you.”

“Wait, what?,” all exclaimed, turning to face Sylus.

He waves you off. “Not really. But still. I had higher hopes.”

“You didn’t have to feel it if you weren’t so nosy,” Luke turned now to his brother.

Kieran makes an exasperated noise that sounds like a dying engine,“You suppressed the bond, not shut it down. You can’t mute a fire alarm by shoving a sock in your ears!”

Luke raises an eyebrow,“That’s not how fire alarms work.”

Kieran groans into his hand,“You know what? Fine. Go ahead. Keep sneaking around like horny civilians on shore leave. I’ll just be here. Being the right hand to a cutthroat corporation. Babysitting my psychically-linked disaster of a brother who keep getting emotionally entangled with his co-worker.”

As he storms off, you and Luke exchange a look.

Luke shrugs, “So… back to the closet?”

“Let’s try the ventilation shafts this time,” you grin, “More plausible deniability.”

In the shadows of the base, Kieran sits in silence, eyes glowing faintly blue. He taps into the bond—just for a second—and feels the echo of your lips against Luke’s. Kieran’s jaw tightens,“…He’s going to get himself killed.”

But there’s a faint smile on his face.

___ _ _ _

Sylus kicked the door to HQ open with all the dramatics of a man juggling a galaxy's worth of secrets in one arm and a mysterious woman in the other.

“Alright,” he grunted, dragging her in by the wrist, “we've got a guest.”

The woman—MC, as she introduced herself—was cold-eyed, scarred, and strangely calm for someone who’d just been pulled out of a top-security Onychirus intel hunt. Her presence was charged. Not psychic. Not kinetic. But undeniably… known.

And Luke, standing across the command deck, barely noticed her. Because you were standing just beside her. You. Hair a little messy from recon. Cheeks flushed from the elevator ride. Laughing softly at something Sylus had muttered.

Luke’s jaw clenched. His heart rate spiked. He looked away, hard. Suppress it. Focus.

“...and this,” Sylus was saying, gesturing toward MC, “this is an intruder send by the hunters. Wanted to attend an auction but merely was desguised. Beginners mistake. But there are also some good news, the hunters know a lot. Maybe shes someone who knows how to sever and reestablish twin psych-links.”

Silence.

Luke’s head snapped up so fast Kieran looked over, alarmed.

“Sorry—what?,” Kieran asked, crossing his arms, stepping out of the shadow like a very irritated backup drive.

MC nodded slowly. “I, myself have a protocore in my body, therefore I read your neural sequencing. You’re "broadcasting" on an open shared frequency. Crude but stable. With the right focus node, it’s possible to turn the link off temporarily… and back on, without psychic recoil.”

Sylus blinked, “You're telling me these two could—what—toggle their brains like Bluetooth?”

MC just smiled,“Basically.”

Luke forgot how to breathe. MC handed Sylus something, “The calibration protocol’s inside. Use a neuro-sink, boost frequency buffering, and you’ll get privacy.”

Privacy.

Luke made a noise that was halfway between a cough and a desperate prayer.

Sylus didn’t even look up. “I swear to the void, if you two start dry-humping across my air vents the minute you get emotional autonomy, I’m going to jettison myself into space.”

And thats, how all of you spend the afternoon. You tested it. Neuro-sync chamber. Calm lighting. A quiet hum. MC guiding Kieran and Luke through mental alignment, then detachment.

Luke stared. He felt the link to his brother loosen. He stood up. Kieran blinked at the sudden action,“You good?”

Luke walked right past him. You were still in the hall, besides the little room MC, Kieran and Luke tried to disable the link, when Luke emerged, and it only took a look for everything to combust. He walked straight to the hall. Straight to you.

“Are you—?,” you began to question. And then he was on you. Mouth crushing against yours. Hands gripping your hips, pulling you into him like you were the only solid thing left in the universe. You gasped into his mouth. He groaned.

“Oh my stars—,” Kieran’s voice echoed from the comm system. “Were not fully detached.”

MC coughed politely in the background.

“Can they breathe?” she asked.

“They’re young. Let them burn it off,” Sylus said, sipping from his thermal flask,“They’ll pass out eventually.”

___ _ _ _

By the time you and Luke emerged in the dinner hall—clothes slightly rumpled, hair an arguable disaster—Sylus was reviewing MC’s data, waiting for dinner to be served and Kieran had fully committed to pretending you didn’t exist.

“Are you okay?” you asked him.

He scowled,“Your boyfriend’s psychic horniness just leaked through the backup link and I got a vision of a janitor’s closet that I wish I could unsee.”

Luke didn’t even pretend to be sorry. Sylus sighed deeply, not looking up from the display,“If you break anything while making out, you're both getting reassigned to waste-processing in a Nebulon outpost.”

You saluted. Luke smirked.

Luke had you. His head was clear. His brother wasn’t screaming. And teenage horny chaos reigned supreme.

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #luke and kieran #luke x reader #kieran #kieran and luke #love and deep space #lads #lads mc #lads x reader

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tinyshyteacup · 2 days ago

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Taglist: @kellynickelsgirl00 @i-doutt-it @beth-isnt-home @darylandbethfanforever9 @brianna-merlim @pumpkinkpieandtomato @smashleywow @imadisneyprincessiswear @clementineslawyer @pandaofsilentdeath @dixonsbridexx @imadisneyprincessiswear @staley83 @death-in-a-tar0t-card

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TW: cussing, Merle is well ... Merle, descriptions of gore, walkers (Zombies), lecherous behavior, sexual thoughts.

Part 5

Between Brothers - Part 6

Three weeks of walking through the Georgia wilderness had settled into a rhythm of sorts. You'd learned to match Merle's pace, learned to read the subtle signs that meant he was getting tired or frustrated or just plain ornery.

What you hadn't learned was how to keep your mouth shut when the silence stretched too long.

You found yourself watching him more than you probably should, fascinated by the way he'd adapted to his new reality. The knife attachment he'd jerry-rigged from parts salvaged at a medical supply depot a couple days ago was a thing of crude ingenuity—a hunting knife duct-taped and zip-tied to the forearm piece of an old prosthetic. It wasn't pretty, but it was effective, and watching him use it had become almost mesmerizing.

"You staring, lil-doe," he said without looking back at you, using the blade to push aside a low-hanging branch.

"I'm not staring," you protested. "I'm just... impressed, I guess."

"By what?"

"How you figured that out. The knife thing. Most people would have given up, but you just... adapted."

Merle paused in his walking, turning to look at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. "Most people ain't had to adapt to shit their whole lives."

There was something in his voice—not quite bitter, but close. You'd noticed he did that sometimes, deflected compliments like they were attacks.

"Still," you said softly. "It's impressive."

He stared at you for a moment longer, then shook his head and kept walking.

You focused on the rhythm of your footsteps, the way the morning light filtered through the canopy above, the birds calling to each other in the distance.

It was peaceful, almost normal, and maybe that's why you started singing.

"Take that pain, pass it down," you sang softly, picking your way over fallen logs and around thorny underbrush. "Mama said, 'Your dad's to blame, but that's his Daddy's fault.'"

Behind you, Merle's footsteps faltered slightly, but you didn't notice, too caught up in the melody that had been stuck in your head all morning.

"But you're afraid you can't outrun what's running through your veins..."

"Christ, darlin', you got a decent voice on you," Merle called out, his tone carefully light. "Where'd you learn that song?"

You glanced back at him, still humming. "Radio, back home. I like the message, you know? About breaking cycles, being better than what came before."

Something flickered across Merle's face, too quick to catch. "Yeah? What would you know about bad cycles, sugar? Growing up in your fancy island paradise?"

There was an edge to his voice that made you frown. "Everyone's got something, Merle. Money doesn't fix everything."

"Sure as hell helps, though." His voice was getting rougher, that familiar wall sliding back into place. "Easier to break cycles when you ain't living in them."

"The Gods aren't done with you yet," you continued singing, either not hearing the warning in his tone or choosing to ignore it.

"Yeah, well, maybe they should be," Merle muttered, but loud enough for you to hear.

"That's a terrible thing to say."

"Is it? Maybe some people are just meant to be fuck-ups, sweetheart. Maybe that's all we're good for."

You stopped walking and turned to face him fully. "I don't believe that."

"'Course you don't. You're all sunshine and rainbows, ain't you, lil doe? All hope and second chances." His voice was getting louder, angrier. "Some of us don't get to start over. Some of us are stuck being exactly what our daddies made us."

"You're not stuck—"

"The hell I ain't!" He was shouting now, and somewhere in the distance, you heard an answering moan. "You think singing some pretty song about breaking cycles is gonna change anything? You think—"

The walker came crashing through the underbrush before either of you could react properly. The shouting had drawn them, just like you'd feared, and now there were consequences.

Merle's makeshift knife attachment caught the first one in the shoulder, but the angle was wrong with his prosthetic, and the thing kept coming. The blade had gone in too shallow, scraping against bone instead of finding the brain.

"Shit!" he grunted, trying to work his blade free while the walker snapped at his face. The jerry-rigged contraption was effective but clumsy, requiring him to use his whole arm to maneuver it properly.

A second walker emerged from behind a tree, and you stumbled backward, your foot catching on a root. You went down hard just as the rotting thing lunged for you.

"Get off me!" you screamed, rolling to the side as decomposing hands grabbed for your throat. The walker was heavier than you'd expected, its decaying weight pinning you down as you struggled to reach the knife on your belt.

Your hands were shaking, adrenaline making you clumsy, and the thing's teeth were snapping inches from your face. You could smell the rot on its breath, see the milky film over its eyes, feel the slickness of decay on its skin as you fought to keep it away from you.

Finally, your fingers closed around your knife handle. With a desperate surge of strength, you drove the blade up through the soft spot under its chin, feeling it punch through rotted flesh and into what was left of its brain.

The walker went limp immediately, but its weight was awkward and heavy, and when you finally managed to push it off, you were covered in its blood and whatever else had been inside its rotting body.

"Holy shit, " you gasped, looking down at yourself in horror.

Merle had dispatched his walker—the blade attachment had finally found its mark—and was wiping it clean on his jeans.

"You hurt?"

"No, just..." You held up your hands, which were covered in dark, congealed blood and other substances you didn't want to identify. "Oh God, I'm covered in... is that...?"

"Guts, darlin'. Welcome to the apocalypse." His voice had lost its earlier anger, replaced by something almost gentle. The fight seemed to have drained the rage out of him, leaving behind only exhaustion.

You made a sound that was half laugh, half sob. "I need to wash this off. Now."

"There's a stream about half a mile up. We can make camp there."

You walked in silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving you shaky and nauseous. Every step reminded you of the walker's weight, its smell, the way it had felt when your knife pierced its skull.

The stream was small but clear, running over smooth stones worn down by years of water. Merle set about making camp while you stood on the bank, looking down at the water with a mixture of longing and apprehension.

"You gonna stand there all day, or you gonna get clean?" he called from where he was gathering firewood.

"It's going to be freezing."

"Better than smelling like walker guts." He paused in his work to look at you, and his expression was softer than you'd seen it since your argument. "Besides, you did good back there, lil doe. Real good."

The unexpected praise made your chest tight with emotion. You nodded, not trusting your voice, and started pulling off your outer layers.

You checked carefully to make sure he was still occupied with setting up camp before stripping down to your underwear and wading into the water. The rocks were slippery under your feet, and you had to move carefully to avoid falling.

The cold hit you like a physical blow, and you let out a sharp gasp that was part shock, part curse, the sound echoing off the trees around the stream.

"Sounds like someone's having a real good time over there," Merle called out, his voice carrying that familiar leer. "You sure you don't need any help scrubbing those hard-to-reach places, sugar? I got experience with getting real dirty."

"Stay the hell away from me, Merle!" you shouted back, but there was no real heat in it. You were too focused on trying to scrub the walker remains off your skin without dying of hypothermia. "I mean it!"

"Aw, come on, darlin'. I promise to be a perfect gentlemen. Scout's honor."

"You were never a scout!"

"How do you know? Maybe I got badges and everything."

Despite everything—the cold, the gore you were trying to wash off, the lingering tension from your earlier fight—you found yourself smiling.

This was the Merle you'd grown used to, the one who used crude humor to deflect from serious moments.

The water was numbingly cold, but you forced yourself to be thorough, scrubbing every inch of exposed skin until you were sure you'd gotten all the walker blood off. Your teeth were chattering by the time you finally waded back to shore, and your fingers were so numb you could barely work the buttons on your clean clothes.

By the time you'd gotten dressed and made your way back to camp, the sun was starting to set. Merle had gotten a fire going and was sitting beside it, poking at the flames with a stick. He looked up when you approached, his eyes doing a quick scan that was part concern, part something else entirely.

"Feel better?" he asked, his voice rougher than usual.

"Much." You settled down across from him, close enough to feel the warmth of the fire. The heat felt like heaven after the icy stream. "Thanks for not... you know. Looking."

"Who says I didn't look?" His grin was pure sin, but there was something almost gentle in his eyes.

"Merle."

"Relax, darlin'. I'm a gentleman." His expression was anything but gentlemanly. "Mostly."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't quite hide your smile. "Your definition of gentleman needs work."

"Yeah, well, I'm a work in progress, sweetheart."

The admission was unexpectedly honest, and you found yourself looking at him more closely. The firelight played across his weathered features, softening the harsh lines and making him look almost... endearing. It was a dangerous thought to have about Merle Dixon.

"Are you?" you asked softly. "A work in progress?"

He met your eyes across the fire, and for a moment something passed between you that had nothing to do with his usual crude flirting or your naive optimism.

"Maybe," he said finally. "Jury's still out."

You curled up on your side, using your pack as a pillow. The adrenaline from the walker attack was wearing off, leaving you exhausted and sore. Every muscle in your body ached from the struggle, and despite the fire, the night air was getting chilly.

"Merle?" you said drowsily.

"Yeah, lil doe?"

"I'm sorry. About earlier. I didn't mean to... I know you don't like talking about family stuff."

He was quiet for so long you thought he might not answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"You don't got nothing to be sorry for, honey. Sometimes I just... react bad to things."

"We all do," you murmured, already half asleep. "Doesn't make you a bad person."

Sleep came easier than expected, but it wasn't peaceful. You shifted restlessly, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard ground, small sounds of discomfort escaping your throat without you realizing it.

Across the fire, Merle watched with predatory interest every time you made one of those soft little whimpers. Damn, girlie sounds sweet, he thought, a slow smirk spreading across his face. Bet I could make her sound even better. Little thing like her never had a real man show her what's what.

He remembered that conversation from a few days back, how you'd admitted you'd only been with one boy back home, some puppy dog probably who didn't know his ass from his elbow. 'Waiting for feelings' you'd said, all earnest. Christ, what a waste. She needs someone to show her what her body's really for.

When you let out another quiet noise, this one accompanied by you arching your back slightly as you tried to stretch out a kink, his thoughts turned downright filthy.

Oh yeah, I could teach her a thing or two. Show her how a Dixon treats a woman. Bet she'd be begging for it once I got my hands on her.

He adjusted himself slightly, enjoying the mental images. Pretty little thing like that, hell, she don't know nothing yet. That one boy she was with probably fumbled around like a damn teenager. I could show her what a real man does.

You were shivering now, the fire not quite enough to keep the night chill at bay, but Merle was more focused on how your body moved.

She's cold, he noted with amusement. Perfect excuse to get close. Show her what she's missing.

"Merle?" Your voice was small and drowsy. "It's freezing."

He looked over at you with barely concealed hunger, taking in every detail. Course you are, sugar. Lucky for you, I got just the thing to warm you up.

"Fire ain't enough?"

"I don't think so." You sat up slowly, wincing. "Ugh ... Everything hurts."

Bet it does. I could make it hurt so good, honey. Show you exactly what that body's made for. But even as the thoughts ran through his head, he made no move toward you. Just watched and enjoyed the show.

"Merle?" You were looking at him with those eyes of yours and he felt a surge of smug satisfaction at how unaware you were.

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"Can I..." You hesitated, looking embarrassed. "Can I sit by you? Just for warmth? And don't make it weird."

He snorted with amusement. Girl's got some brass, I'll give her that. Just like when I got her all wound up with that smoke and she started snapping back at me, turning my own damn questions around.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sugar. Come on over."

You scooted around the fire and settled down beside him, close enough that he could feel the heat of your body. Without really thinking about it, you leaned against his side, your head finding his shoulder.

Goddamn. His thoughts were a steady stream of filth as he savored how you felt against him. Bet I could have her right here, right now.

"Better?" he managed to ask, his voice rougher than he intended.

"Mmm." You were already half asleep again, your body relaxing against his. "Definitely warmer."

Yeah, and you're gonna learn just how warm I can get you, sugar. Just you wait.

He sat there for a long time, watching the fire burn down to embers, mentally cataloging every way he could corrupt you. Every sound you might make.

As you shifted in your sleep, you suddenly tensed, your eyes fluttering open. Your gaze immediately went to the knife blade attached to his stump, gleaming in the firelight just inches from your face.

"Merle," you said softly, voice hesitant. "Could you... could you maybe take that off? I'm worried about getting cut if I fall asleep."

He followed your gaze and chuckled. "This old thing? Yeah, alright darlin'. Don't want you gettin' nicked up." He worked the straps loose with relative ease, setting the prosthetic aside.

When he turned back, you were sitting up, looking at his stump with concern. "Can I check it again ? It's been about a three weeks or so, right? I want to make sure there's still no infection."

Hell yeah, you can touch me anywhere you want, sweetheart. "Knock yourself out, doc."

You moved closer, your hands gentle as you examined the healing flesh. Your touch was clinical, professional, but Merle's thoughts were anything but.

Look at those soft little hands. Wonder what else they could do. Bet I could show her some real hands-on learning. His eyes roamed over you as you worked, taking in how your shirt rode up slightly as you leaned forward. Could take off a lot more than just this knife, sugar-tits Show you exactly what you're missing.

His eyes lingered on the curve of your neck, the way your shirt had shifted. You'd look real pretty without all these clothes. Could show you things that boy back home never even dreamed of.

"It looks good," you said, completely oblivious to his stare. "Healing well. No signs of infection." Your voice was soft, caring, and it made his thoughts even more twisted. Look at her, all worried about me like I'm some saint. If only she knew what I was picturing.

You started to pull back, but he reached up with his good hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was surprisingly tender, his rough fingers brushing against your soft skin.

Jesus, look at her. But as he stared into your face, something unexpected hit him like a freight train. Fuck me... she looks just like...

The thought came out of nowhere, unwanted and jarring. The genuine care and worry in your eyes, the way you tilted your head slightly when you were concentrating.

'All knees and elbows and too-big eyes' ... Daryl when he was little - maybe three or four years old, before the world got its claws in him good and proper... the image blinked twice in his brain and stuck.

What in the fresh hell? The realization threw him completely off balance. Why am I thinking about my baby brother when I'm looking at a pretty ass woman ?

He remembered Daryl at that age, small and scraggly, following him around like a lost puppy. Before their daddy really started in on him, before Merle had to teach him how to be hard, how to survive. Kid had that same look back then. All kind and trusting, like the world was gonna be kind to him.

Christ, what's wrong with me? He was looking at a girl, sure, but an adult - one that moments ago he'd wanted to ... and then bam - thinking about his little brother. It was fucked up on levels he didn't want to examine.

She's got those same damn eyes though. Like she still believes people are actually good.

For just a moment, he wondered what would've happened if Daryl had never had to learn the hard lessons. If he'd stayed that trusting kid instead of turning into the hard-edged man he'd made him. If someone had been gentle with him instead of teaching him that the world was brutal and you had to be brutal right back.

Shit. Your eyes met his, still full of that same kindness, that same caring concern, and something twisted uncomfortably in his chest. If she knew what I was thinking before... hell, if she knew what goes on in my head most of the time, she'd run screaming into the woods. Probably rather take her chances with the walkers than stay here with me.

But despite every vulgar thought running through his head, despite knowing exactly what he could do and how easily he could do it, Merle Dixon just sat there. Let his hand fall back to his side. Watched you settle back against him like he was someone worth trusting.

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

After a while, your breathing evened out and you went completely limp against him, truly asleep this time. He sat there for another few minutes, listening to the soft sounds you made, before carefully reaching over to one of the packs. Moving slowly so he wouldn't wake you, he pulled out a couple thin blankets and draped them over you.

Then he gently shifted away, putting some distance between you and him, settling back against a tree a few feet away. Something uncomfortable twisted in his chest as he watched you sleep - something that felt almost like... guilt? Or shame ? But that didn't make sense. He hadn't done anything wrong. Hell, he hadn't done anything at all.

What the hell is wrong with me? The feeling was foreign, unwelcome, and he didn't know what to do with it.

"Sweet dreams, lil-doe," he whispered, and for once, the predatory gleam in his eyes was completely gone, replaced by something he couldn't quite name and wasn't ready to examine.

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nshi-ao3 · 3 days ago

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Hello! Hope you are doing well. I was wondering, what do all the Scions think about Ren? Are there certain qualities about him that irk or inspire them? I love your writing so much and I am excited for more. Thank you!

Thank you so much!! <3 I really appreciate that!

Hehe! Well, let's start with Alphinaud and Tataru because of where we are in the fic currently!

Alphinaud initially didn't care much about Ren. He was even kind of vaguely irritated at him for being connected to Louisoix's disappearance, even though he knows it wasn't fair to hold that against him. Now? Now they're basically family haha! He loves him dearly, but is also extremely deeply concerned for his mental health now that he's been told by others what to look for. He's a great kid (after his traumatic humbling), but the opposite of Alisaie in that he can be a bit blind to other people's feelings. But he's definitely making the effort to do better now!

And Tataru is very charmed by Joker! Sees him as a quintessential hero in a lot of ways, given he's swooped in (sometimes literally) to save her on multiple occasions. Though recent events have forced her to remember his humanity behind the theatricality and heroics. She still finds him very dashing, though! Hates that she can't do more to help him. :(

Alisaie has a little crush~ Though she hasn't really acknowledged it yet. At first she was vaguely worried about him on the carriage because oh boy did he look clueless and lost. And then, like Alphinaud, she got all confused and irritated about his connection to Louisoix's disappearance. Much like how she found herself wondering why her grandfather gave his life to protect a land full of so much conflict and strife, full of people who didn't seem worth it, she wondered why this guy could possibly be so important that Louisoix would put himself in mortal peril— risk tearing himself from her life permanently— to help bring him to this world. But then she saw how fundamentally kind Ren was behind all the jokes and posturing— and how badly he was hurting behind even that— and oh boy did her blooming crush hit her hard by the end of the Coils haha! I really, really look forward to her coming back into the plot. ;)

Thancred feels really responsible for Ren since he recruited him and all. Much like how he took it upon himself to look out for Minfilia in an ambiguously older brotherly way after The Goobbue Incident, he's more or less done much the same for Ren. He has a habit of assigning himself personal responsibility for things and running with it. Hm. Sounds familiar. :P Soon we're actually going to see a point of tension / minor conflict between Thancred and Ren, actually! It'll get sorted, but yeah...

Y'shtola likewise has a general sense of vague responsibility towards Ren, but with much less baggage attached to it haha! She thinks his jokes and occasional flippant attitude can be annoying, but she knows that's just how he's coping and isn't actually that bothered by them. Plus it's secretly fun to give it right back to him. ;) She knows how to cut a man down to size, after all! But look: she has a no-nonsense reputation to maintain, gods dammit! Soon she's going to have a reason to be extra fond of him! If a bit... worried about something. Maybe really worried about something. Maybe a bit (very) frightened about something. Unless she was just imagining it...? Yeah, that was probably it.

'Yda' and Joker— clown to clown communication. Look at those goobers! She thought he was hilarious right away and likes him a lot. Likes joining forces with him to bother Papalymo. They get on great. Stormblood's gonna be fun! Ren wondering how he ended up with the same bizarre identity reveal with two different friends twice is going to be something, though!

Papaylmo: please no more clowns. (Yda and Ren are like his stupid kids who won't stop getting into trouble)

Minfilia... well, like i said in another post: She was basically looking at Ren and going ‘oh so this is how F'lhaminn felt when she took me in…’ haha

Estinien has been hit hard by brotherly feelings and kinda hates it at first!! It's partially a bit of projection from dearly missing Hamignant, like with Alphinaud, and also the fact that he and Ren are both intimately tied to different respective dragons from the First Brood. Dragon influence! Powerful stuff!

#ask

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soleilwoo · 2 days ago

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what arguments are like with the boyz

[☀︎] — sangyeon. he gets really protective of whatever argument he's standing for, and isn't so quick to persuade. he'd understand, but he will always be thinking about the negatives of it all. he talks well with you after the fight, and wants to make up with you whenever you are ready.

otherwise, he'd stress about the fight all day and hesitate and have trouble deciding on whether to text, call, or go to your house to talk to you in person. he’s not the type to ask for help in this situation, so he'd keep the trouble to himself to deal with it. eventually, he'd call you to ask to meet somewhere after he's thought of a solution to the problem, so that he can hear your opinion about it and make amends.

[☀︎] — jacob. the both of you rarely argued, but it does happen sometimes. although he never raises his voice at you, he's pretty confident in whatever argument he has. after that, he can be seen regretting what he may have said, and is worried that he may have hurt your feelings in any way.

but he's very patient, and gives you time to think things yourself before talking with him. he often stands in front of your doorway, knocking on it lightly, in hopes you'd open it soon so that you two can finally talk things out together. he’ll often talk to kevin or the rest of the members about this problem, but not all the time. when you finally open the door, he is quick to apologize for accidentally hurting your feelings in any way.

[☀︎] — younghoon. he doesn’t like showing you his angry side, since he thinks it would make him seem un-mannered. he'd be very calm all throughout and would still listen carefully to whatever point you have. he treasures your opinions, so he will want to keep them in mind/give them further consideration after the fight. he will remember it all and think about it lots. but if things get too heated up, he will eventually burst and things will get very emotional.

he isn’t so afraid of letting you know how he feels, so he’ll say everything he needs to say in front of you. your fights with younghoon usually end on the same day, and on a good note. usually you guys would come up with some sort of solution to the problem, and somehow make both ends meet. if he somehow still feels a need to make up with you more, he'd either get you something or do something for you as a way of appreciation towards you without asking. you don't even need it most of the time, yet he still does so. it's subtle, but it's sweet.

[☀︎] — hyunjae. lots of cursing. he’s really loud and intimidating and gets pretty harsh with his words when he's angry. often tells you to "get out." he will never dare to insult you though. after an argument however, he thinks about it a lot and would just sit by himself evaluating what just happened. it upsets him for the rest of the day, but he won't show it.

you're often the 'ice-breaker' after an argument, because he would refuse to speak to you after a fight out of shame/stubbornness. when he does, he's very straightforward, and gets to the point quickly. it takes him a while to properly apologize to you, but he does eventually, and he's always the first to do so.

[☀︎] — juyeon. he’s super calm all throughout and doesn’t show that he's angry, and will only frown. he’d still make eye contact and listen to you carefully, though. but he is very confident in his side of the argument, crossing his arms while he looks at you. he isn't the type to walk away from a fight and will want to talk to you however long it takes to resolve the conflict.

when you try to walk away however, he will want to pull you into him and let you face him, even if you're mad. he’ll offer you a warm drink or something to help you calm down, even if you didn't ask for it. motions you to the couch so that you two can listen to each other and fix the problem together.

[☀︎] — kevin. he gets pretty loud when he's in the heat of the moment. often runs his hands through his hair in frustration and puts a lot of emphasis on his words/hand movements. he really tries to let you see his point of view and is very persistent. as soon as he sees that you're hurt because of what he may have said, he is quick to pull you into his arms.

even if you are trying to walk away, he would still pull you towards his body and just hold you there. then he'd be whispering stuff like "okay, okay. we'll stop now. you're tired, i'm tired. we're both tired. let's just give it a rest. we'll talk in the morning. i'm sorry." his apologies the next morning are always cute and over the top, but he sincerely means it.

[☀︎] — new (chanhee). strong opinions. but he will want to listen to you either way because you are important to him, despite your disagreements. chanhee will stand and listen with his arm crossed and everything. running a hand across his face, etc. he talks to you softly when he's trying to comfort you. rubbing your shoulders and such.

i feel he would act on solving the fight first. he wouldn’t want to keep his pride by being stubborn, so that's why he is quick to act. he just doesn't like being on bad terms with the one he loves, is all. he also invites you to eat dinner with him so that he can have the chance to talk with you more.

[☀︎] — q (changmin). your arguments with each other are often very meaningless. it’s not that you two fight often, it's just that whenever it happens, the topic of the fight is always somehow so... dumb? like very little misunderstandings.

but the two of you always make up really quickly and forget all about it the next day. your relationship with each other is somehow very innocent? apologies would be sincere, but honestly, you both kinda know that it's not so necessary because the fights are always so small and end really quickly. but you two say sorry to each other either way.

[☀︎] — sunwoo. he’s very blunt, so his words may or may not hurt you depending on his honesty. he is fairly confident on his opinion. if he sees you're hurt he'll get slightly surprised but will be the first to apologize right away, and on the spot. he never intentionally means to hurt you though, so keep that in mind. when he's trying to make up with you, he will never want to give up and is very persistent + "please tell me how i can make it up to you. y/n, i'm really sorry. i mean it. you know i am."

i also feel that when he's apologizing to you again, he does it excessively and never breaks eye contact and thinks of all the ways he can make it work out between you and him. a very determined guy, so he'll always be reaching out to you

[☀︎] — eric. arguments are super rare when it comes to eric. like surprisingly, it’s never anything childish. but when it happens, it's usually about something serious and neither of your faults. he doesn't raise his voice or yell at you at all, nor does he get aggressive with you in any way. he listens to you very carefully, and tries to make up a solution for the problem on the spot.

you could tell he is very upset. if you try turning around as to not face him out of anger, he would pull on your sleeves softly and try to make you face him. he'd hug you from behind while whispering soft apologies into your ear. he'd never let go until he knows that you've finally calmed down.

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luvcozy · 19 hours ago

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can you hc the slashfic slashers handling an mc with sh issues.. if that's okay!!!!!

Nevermoor boys with an MC that struggles with self-harm

Request :- Yuuuuup! They do be open too!

Warnings :- Talk of self-harm, cutting, razor blades, and box cutters, mentions & descriptions of blood, if this is triggering for you I ask that you don't continue reading per your own comfort, by clicking keep reading you are consenting to the reading ahead‼️(also their unmasked banners are used below!)

Plot :- The Nevermoor boys having an s/o that struggles with self-harm and dark thoughts

A/N :- Anon, thank you for the request and I hope that you are doing okay and having a spectacular day when you read this, don't forget to drink your water and eat either!! 🫶

»»------------------------------------------------►

🐑 Finds out about what you did like 3 days after, Jay doesn't exactly push about what your wearing so when you wore long sleeves he didn't think much about it

🐑 How he found out in the first place was when he was asked to bag up the trash, he found the bandage wraps inside

🐑 He doesn't know what to do, he just looks at you like a kicked puppy with the dirty bandages in his hand

🐑 Jay snaps out of it after a few minutes and is just asking a bunch of questions, he doesn't know what exactly he should do or if he was the reason for you doing so

🐑 To which you reassure him that it's not, that sometimes you just have days where your not feeling the greatest and that everything is just to much

🐑 He's glued to your hip for the next couple days, helping clean your arms and rewrap them

🐑 Sits with you for hours, not saying a word, which is strange, but it's Jay trying to understand what you could be going through and he's trying not to make things worse

🐑 He sits with you for hours with some cozy blankets and warm drinks, binge watching all sorts of your favorite movies

🐑 Listens closely to anything you say from then on, trying to pin point moments where you don't seem to be all there, he just hugs you and yaps your ears off about random things

🐑 Jay's just trying to keep your mind occupied with anything other than what may be bugging you, if you need him to listen he's sat, if you need cuddles he's there, all for you

🦊 Ghost, no, Joey has been in that same place that your in, he notices the signs before you even start or do anything

🦊 He confronts you about it, he's not mad, he's not mean, nor upset, even though you can see all of those emotions behind his eyes

🦊 If you don't want to talk about it he doesn't push it, he just sighs, dropping his fox mask and any of his snarky backhanded remarks are gone, he's just soft

🦊 Joey is quick to just making you comfortable in a shared bed with everything you might need

🦊 Redirecting anything with cutting away from your thoughts, he's sat behind you, an arm around your waist and his head on your shoulder

🦊 Something that I think he would do with you is body painting, something about it being therapeutic along with fidget toys

🦊 Gets you a spinning ring and a spikey grip toy for whenever you feel like you need grounding or something to pull you back

🦊 The painting? You're both in white tank tops, arms, chests, necks, and faces just covered in different patterns and colors, he may not like it a lot but he sees the focus in your eyes makes it worth it

🦊 You wanna just sit and binge some of the scary movies you both enjoy? He's sat, making the snacks and readying your spot to get ready and not move for hours

🦊 Joey loves you and he's been through it himself, you know the story, he's really smart with keeping you away from the idea, but if he can't he's there with you every second to help nurse your cuts back to health

🐺 Now Mike is a silent man, light footed, can't hear when he enters or leaves, he prefers it like that

🐺 Though the startlement you felt when he suddenly grabbed your hand that was holding a small razor blade and blood, running down your arm and the blade that was held

🐺 Even with his mask, you could tell he was upset, the huff that followed it approved that much, plucking the razor from your fingers and disappearing from the bathroom

🐺 Your left in silence, the marks on your arm suddenly starting to sting as you start to come back around to things

🐺 Seconds later he's back, medkit in hand while he looks back at your arm, ever so gently, he takes your arm and dabs away at the red liquid staining it

🐺 Mike is quiet the whole time, so its hard to tell just exactly how he's feeling without him really wanting you too

🐺 The heat rushing to your face and eyes as a flurry blur started to hit them, tears slowly starting to fall while he wrapped your arm

🐺 His hands cup your cheeks, face in his hands as he makes you look at him, his mask gone, striking blue eyes locked with yours

🐺 He wipes a few tears with his thumbs, taking one hand away to take yours into his, pressing your hand to his chest, focusing on his breathing and heartbeat

🐺 Mikes with you, he's not moving, he's definitely not scared of blood, he's there for you and there with you, whatever you need, he'll get it for you

🐽 Leather knows his mother and his brothers can be a lot to deal with them and with a few of your own inquiries, things can get, tense and surely stressed

🐽 So while in the barn and listening to Hitch and all his, essentially, empty threats and promises that his brother and mother make finally takes it's hit

🐽 After the younger brother leaves your left to your thoughts, something that you didn't want to be left alone with

🐽 Leather took notice to your absences on the porch and after a quick ask Hitch mentions you not following him out the barn, so he's quick to make his way out to you

🐽 The scene he's met with leaves his heart broken however, your in a corner, arm poorly wrapped with a hacking knife covered in blood leading to you

🐽 The brunette is down at your side in a heartbeat, asking if your alright while taking your arm to inspect the damage dealt

🐽 At first he's mad at his brother, thinking that he's the one to have done this, but before he can get up your apologizing and begging him to not tell his mother

🐽 That's when it clicks for Leather, you both had already discussed about your scars and still struggling with things occasionally, he did his damndest to be sure you would repeat the actions

🐽 Even then, he knows your situation isn't ideal either, taking you in his arms, wrapping your arm snuggly in a rag before carrying you into the house

🐽 The place is silent, it's almost deafening to hear it so quiet, your planted in bed with Leather, your head hidden in his neck, eyes puffy and red from crying yourself to sleep next to him, swearing that he wouldn't let them get to you like this ever again

Tags :- @sleepy--starss

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