#(i will feel so bad if there are other ghouls named these and will instantly change their names)

[m0nochromat1c]

I really need to post more and not just art spam my traditional posts whenever my hyperfixtations change durastically

Anyway so Ghost happened, found out about it, absolutely lost my mind, these fucks happened :D!

[nowweknowtherearenoangels]

Session 1 - This Is Not a Place of Honour

I was right to have such a bad feeling about this. I thought it'd be fine at first, I'd met our unit's nurse and somehow that soothed everything for a night or two, but then we got sent into action.

Myself and a few others, notably the nurse Paula, a French soldier named Jules, two Russians named Mikhail and Sergei, were informed by our officer that we needed to wake up before dawn and take out an experimental tank on a mission to pick up a reporter from a location nearby.

I don't typically like to speak ill of people, but Lord forgive me when I say that man was easily the most annoying person I have ever had to encounter. His name is Julian Flores and he appears to be completely devoid of the ability to stop talking for more than a millisecond. In fact, on the way back, he only shut up after Mikhail threatened to punch him and Paula gently diffused the fight.

Perfect silence for less than maybe fifteen minutes before I spotted a fucking corpse.

I do not want to detail it and I do not want to think about it because it makes me exceptionally ill, but it was carrying a bag full of papers, which Julian picked up and handed to us. Jules and I read it over together and discovered that the papers were enemy plans for the construction of a tank very similar to ours with inside info from someone who had been on the project on our side. This means we have a traitor in our midst.

I thought it wouldn't get any more gruesome, but at that point we began passing by piles of bodies picked clean of flesh and trails of blood leading off into the terrain beyond. Naturally, we needed to get them out of our way, so we attempted to clean them up, only to be ambushed. At first I thought maybe our attackers were enemy soldiers, but when I finally saw them, they were unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Imagine a man, but with razor-sharp teeth and seemingly unseeing eyes.

I later learned that these are called Corpse Feeders, known to some as Ghouls.

We went into combat almost instantly, but all our first shots missed. Paula and Jules stayed back at the tank, understandably, and frankly I wish I'd been permitted to join them. Jules fired a second shot and hit one of the beasts in the shoulder, but it countered by trying to bite Sergei while on open ground. The other came after me. It stank, like rotting blood, a smell which I would never wish anyone to grow familiar with. I ducked behind a wall at the last second.

It should be noted to anyone reading this that those things are absolutely fucking stupid. After I dodged, it completely failed to realize that it, too, could go around the wall and simply reached for me while I scooted back and waved my bayonet at it.

I also discovered very quickly that my Russian teammates are clearly both insane. Mikhail started by punching the one attacking Sergei before Sergei punched it as well. Then, Mikhail turned around and punched the one that was trying to get at me, killing it and sending its body tumbling to my feet. I'm at the very least proud to say that I didn't just sit there paralyzed by fear, though. I swerved around Sergei and used my bayonet to stab the abomination still attacking him between the ribs, causing it to die and spray blood in every possible direction (including but not limited to my face). It was about as awful as it sounds.

On the way back, Julian immediately began asking questions about the battle. I'm not completely ashamed to say that I wiped some of the acrid blood off of my cheek and smeared it across his forehead, to which he shut up for the rest of the ride.

I ought to stop writing for now, it's late and I have to get up early tomorrow. I've washed myself and am in my bunk surrounded by the others, most of whom are also settling in for bed. I'll make an effort to write to Mum tomorrow and let her know that I arrived safely.

~ 🔗

[sunflowerharrington]

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 | 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞

part four: feels like an explosion when you’re around me

mfp masterlist

content warnings: masking emotions, flinching, post traumatic stress disorder (ptsd), sexual thoughts, swearing, a character raising their voice, shouting

taglist: @myobmaya @creneal @thisishellfire @hellfirehaley @taecube @steveslittlesunflower @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @wzrlds @eddies-bat @quickiesgirl @fxllfaiiry @liviawritesthings @corrodedhawkins @eddiebillysteve @mvrylee @untoldshortsofthefandoms @nevermore66 dm comment or ask me if you would like to be added or taken off

notes: i'm super busy with college which is why updates are really slow, please bare with me. as always, billy’s thoughts are italicized

summary: it’s the beginning of the project, and the beginning of the end of everything, possibly. and we get to know a little about “sebastian the rose” and “bonnie the sunflower”, sloane’s characters from her short story she wrote when she was nine!

If anything, the one thing Billy was good at was basketball. It was one of the only things he cared about other than his looks and his beloved Camaro which he named Celeste. And so he found himself signing up for the Hawkins basketball team, taking the pen in his left hand to scribble his name down. It totally wasn’t because he knew Sloane was a cheerleader.

Then he looked at the sign up sheet for the cheer squad with Sloane’s name at the very top, and underneath that was Heather Holloway’s from his math class. It was then that Billy had confirmed that Sloane’s handwriting was just as beautiful as she. Slanted letters with a swirl at the end of a cursive ‘S’ and a cursive ‘M’ for the start of both her first and last names. He also noticed that she chose not to write her middle name down.

Billy couldn’t comprehend how Sloane could look the way she did, walking past him down the hall with a delicate wave. She looked beautiful in anything she wore, and it led him to wonder what she would look like in more of his clothes than just his jacket… or no clothes at all… Sitting on his bed in nothing but his favorite red shirt, her glossy lips inching closer and closer to his—

No. Can't have those thoughts in public.

He noticed how his pants began tightening ever so slightly, and he groaned under his breath, hoping he wouldn’t have to rub one out in the bathroom and be late for English class; the class he would be sitting beside Sloane in. The girl he was just fantasizing about.

Just fucking great.

He waited for Robin outside the music room, tapping his fingers against the tops of his thighs, and then they walked together to Mr Green’s English, with Robin rambling on about having to do a project with Nancy.

“Is this Nancy chick really that bad?” He asked, regretting it instantly as it sent Robin into another tangent. Meanwhile, Billy had noticed Steve Harrington walking to class with Sloane. He was talking animatedly with a bright smile crossing his handsome face, and it only made Billy’s blood boil even more. Why? He was unsure.

He just didn’t understand why Steve got to talk to her and he couldn’t. Were they… boyfriend and girlfriend?

If they were boyfriend and girlfriend she wouldn’t be wearing my jacket. Again.

She must really like it.

Should I let her keep it?

Thankfully Steve and Sloane had made it into the classroom before Billy and Robin, saving Billy the need to mess up Steve’s very punchable looking face. As they entered, Mr Green asked them to sit with their partners, busy stapling many copies of papers in his hands for tests for the younger students.

Billy turned to look for Sloane in an instant, who had been turned around talking to Heather, exchanging a purple and black bracelet and a blue and pink bracelet, with Heather taking the blue and pink one to match her backpack. Sloane’s gaze drifted from Heather’s and towards Billy’s after sliding the bracelet on her wrist, waving him over while Heather got up to sit next to Jason for the project.

Billy trudged over and slouched into his chair, letting out a loud sigh as he did so, making her giggle under her breath, sending a wave of something through Billy’s veins. Happiness.

He turned to look at Robin next for some reassurance, only to see her talking with her partner, Nancy. Maybe all Robin’s ranting was for nothing.

“Hey, pumpkin,” he said with a smile, twisting his ring around his finger as he tried to get comfortable in the chair. Sitting on sharp, damp rocks by the sea on a windy day would be more comfortable. “I like your bracelet.”

“Thank you, Heather made it for me,” she grinned, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “Pumpkin? Is this a nickname upgrade?” She leaned in closer to his ear. “Am I no longer your heartstopper?”

You still are.

“Am I not your James Dean anymore?”

And with that she burst into a fit of giggles, taking a gentle hold of his wrist in an attempt to ground herself. He pulled his hand away immediately, and she noticed, but never said a word about it.

Not yet, anyway.

She turned away from him for a moment to pull a purple notebook and a black and purple pen out of her bag.

“I’m sorry that I held your hand without asking,” she muttered under her breath, turning her attention back to Mr Green, who had begun speaking again.

“Okay class, for today I’m going to need the names of at least three works of literature that you are considering. I expect the name of the piece you have chosen, an interpretation of the piece and a schedule for what you are going to do for the duration of the project by next Monday. So you all have a week to complete this assignment and I want no excuses as to why it’s not done.”

Billy rolled his eyes. He didn’t know any works of romantic literature, let alone three or more. So he was hoping that Sloane would know at least two.

Two was better than one or none.

“Do you have any idea of what we could do?” She asked, finally breaking the silence between the two, a soft and hopeful smile appearing on her pink lips as she flipped open her notebook and wrote the date at the top of the page. Monday, September 1st 1984; two days after the day Billy fell in love with her.

The day his life officially started.

“No,” he said plainly. “Do you?”

“No, I don’t. Romance has never really been my forte,” she shook her head, and after she wrote both of their names down on the page in black ink, she began doodling a little purple heart next to Billy’s name, knocking the air out of his lungs for a second.

The way she wrote his name was beautiful, not to mention how adorable the heart looked next to his name. But maybe she did that for everyone and it meant nothing. Maybe he was reading too much into it.

“Oh really?” he smirked. “And here I thought you’d be like Shakespeare.”

She raised one of her eyebrows. “He wrote tragedies, Billy. Lots of them. My favorite is Othello. It’s so interesting to me.”

Othello interests her? Mental note; ask her about Othello.

“Well let’s just hope our project doesn’t turn into one of those.”

There was an awkward moment of silence between the two and Billy suddenly hated the fact that Robin was sitting in front of him. Shit, more ammunition for her to tease him with. He rolled his eyes as Robin began making kissy faces at him and making her hands into a heart, though a little smile started to tug at the corners of his lips. Robin smiled back before turning back around to continue her oh-so-riveting conversation with Nancy.

She would rather watch paint dry on a wall than listen to Nancy drone on about Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. More like; Steve ‘Hair for Brains’ Harrington. She thought he was dimmer than a broken lightbulb. Dimmer than Jonathan Byers’ mom’s broken Christmas lights.

Billy’s gaze shot back to Sloane. His sweetheart. His dream girl. His new obsession. And she smiled, a little dimple appearing in her cheek… and it nearly murdered him with how much he wanted to kiss it.

“Maybe we could do a short story? I feel like everyone else will do a love song…”

“I don’t know any love songs, so I think we should do a story too,” he admitted, which was sort of true, he just couldn’t think of any from the top of his head with her so close to him. And she’d be running for the hills if he said her voice was like a love song, so he stopped himself.

“Me too,” she sighed, twirling her pink pen in between her fingers, her nails painted with a thin coat of blue nail polish. The same blue as the scrunchie she wore in her hair on the night they met.

“So like, a short story about what?”

“I um… I know a short story about sunflowers and roses as a metaphor for two star-crossed lovers but I don’t know how good it is. I wrote it myself when I was nine. It’s engraved in my mind forever.”

“I see that many of you have not started, mainly Mr Hargrove and Miss Mitchell,” Mr Green spoke up, his gaze focussed on the two. “I suggest you start now as this is part of your daily grade.”

“Ooh, looks like we’re in trouble,” Sloane whispered in his ear, giggling, unable to see his body shooting into overdrive as she did so.

“Uh, yeah… I guess we are.”

“We wrote our names down, sir! At least we’re not making out in the back of the classroom,” Sloane piped up, winking at Billy. “Though I wouldn’t mind that...”

Billy’s heart skipped a beat. One beat gone, two beats, three beats, four…

Does she mean that? Who would wanna kiss me?

“Okay, that’s enough, Miss Mitchell. No need to scare off Mr Hargrove on his second day.” Mr Green said, sighing. “Alright class, back to work!”

Sloane began to explain the story of the two flowers, turning back to look Billy in the eye: a metaphor for two lovers. Sunflower and Rose. In this case, one male and one female. Bonnie and Sebastian. Bonnie was very delicate, gentle like a sunflower. She was also like a daisy, but a daisy that would unfortunately be ruined, slowly getting all of her petals ripped out until all that is left is her stem. Bonnie didn’t want to give up so she pushed herself into the thrones of the beautiful, irresistible rose next to her. His name was Sebastian. Pushing against him until all that is left is her battered and bruised stem - Internally and externally. But sometimes one petal stays, hanging onto dear life; a glimmer of hope that everything will turn out okay if she held onto that petal. And then she started to bloom again, this time stronger against the storm and the rose.

As Sebastian was pulling at Bonnie’s petals, her stem got caught and ripped through her skin, breaking her down, weakening her stem. Her petals began to wither, and with no other sunflowers around to give her light to stay strong, she perished.

Until Sebastian’s began to bloom.

Billy sighed dreamily as Sloane continued her story, his elbow propped up on the table and his chin in his hand, his heart palpitating in his chest as he watched the way her lips moved as she spoke.

“The sunflower began to bloom one day, her petals fluttering open in the sunshine and closing in the evening, until another began to grow. But this sunflower was unusual. It has thorns growing from it and a severely damaged stem. Bonnie weaved her way around Sebastian, strengthening him even though his thorns were cutting into her, and they grew together in harmony until a fire appeared. They both had to close up and protect themselves from each other and the fire, but the fire enticed Sebastian and he began to burn as he got closer and closer until he looked back at Bonnie and realized everything he needed was right there and had been this entire time.”

I—

“That’s amazing,” he said, and she beamed. And he could have died right there. But at least he would have died happy.

“Thank you, Billy. Seriously, that means so much to me. I don’t share the story that often…”

“So I should feel honoured?”

“Very.”

They somehow managed to come up with three other pieces after that to hand in for the first step of their project. Thank heavens for poetry books, vinyl records and Sloane. Because Billy couldn’t think a single damn thought with her around.

“What about There Goes My Baby by The Drifters?” She asked, tapping her pen against her lip for a moment. “Maybe if we can’t think of any others we could use that one.”

“Mhmm, good idea.” Very good idea. Thoughts other than Sloane would be good to have right now for Billy.

He didn’t even hear what she had said.

𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 ❤︎

☁︎ 𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲.

☁︎ 𝐌𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

☁︎ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭 116 𝐛𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞.

☁︎ 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲.

Her writing is adorable. Just like her.

He watched as her pen glided over the thin sheet of paper in her spiral notebook, furrowing his brows when he saw her writing down William Shakespeare. “I thought you said he wrote tragedies?”

“He writes poetry too, hot stuff,” she said with a smile, her eyes lighting up.

She likes poetry?

“Also we can do our project at my house, by the way. Just in case… Um… In case your parents don’t want some random girl coming into their house.”

There was no way Billy’s parents would let him have a girl over. Not that he cared. He just didn’t want Sloane to have to meet Neil.

Even if they ended up together by some miracle, she was never stepping within ten feet of Neil Hargrove.

Ever.

“That would be for the best,” he said, smiling gratefully. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome! Ooh—!” she said, interrupting herself. “Are you excited to get your picture taken tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry? My picture?”

“For our yearbooks!” She chirped. “We have to get our picture taken tomorrow morning… Did you not know about this? I’m sorry for not telling you—”

“Stop apologizing for everything, sweet thing,” he chuckled, pulling his arm around the back of her chair, relaxing in his seat.

‘Twas about damn time he did.

He swore he could hear her breath stutter as he let his arm rest on the back of her chair, brushing against her shoulder blades through his jacket encasing her body for a split second. But he didn’t want to ask her about it in case he was hearing things.

“I already look perfect,” he half-joked. “I don't need to do any preparation for this. Except for my hair, trimming my moustache, making sure my necklace looks right, painting my nails black again… So, I guess I do have to do a lot, actually.”

“You’re funny,” she laughed, hitting his arm as she did so, making him subconsciously flinch and pull back.

Why the fuck would she do that?

Her brows furrowed as he did so, her eyes now downcast towards the table, before looking back up at him from underneath her mascara-coated lashes, an apologetic look flashing across her face. “I… I’m so sorry, Billy.”

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he said, mentally kicking himself off the roof of the school for not masking it that time, that feeling that you get just before tears begin welling in your eyes coursing through his body, shooting it into overdrive. And not a good kind of overdrive. “Let’s just get this stupid project done.”

“I don’t think the project is stupid…”

He didn’t even want to think about it. Not one thought about his past. He hated it all and wanted to get rid of his past forever, so there would be room to make more memories in Hawkins.

Preferably with a girl by the name of Sloane Nadine Mitchell, though that would be practically impossible. She didn’t like him like that!

“Okay. Um… I’m still sorry, by the way. I know you don’t wanna talk about what just happened, but—“

“Can you just drop it? Jesus, I don’t care if you’re sorry or not. How many times do I have to tell you to stop saying sorry?” he said, raising his voice ever so slightly, a frown creasing between his brows. “We’ve got our shit done, now stop talking to me.”

“But I—”

“We’re just doing a stupid fucking project together, it’s nothing more than that. You don’t need to know me, Sloane. Can you not take a fucking hint? Are you that stupid?”

“Billy, just calm down, please—!”

“I said; drop it! Do you not understand what ‘stop’ means?! And your sunflower story is fucking garbage, we’re taking that out of the project. And I never wanna hear about it again!” He raised his voice louder, slamming his hand down on the table, then excusing himself from the classroom.

Sloane jumped upon hearing the door slam, tears beginning to well in her eyes almost immediately after, especially as whispers from her classmates began to get the better of her. She hugged his jacket around her, basking in his presence as tears filled her glassy eyes…

This was the first of a thousand cuts of the rose’s thorn into the sunflower’s stem.

And there would be many more to come… sooner than she thought.

[animeyanderelover]

Can I get promp 32 to Shuu tsukiyama? Thank you.

You can because I always appreciate requests for fandoms I didn’t get that many requests for.

Warnings: Yandere themes, gore, mentions of killing, mentions of torture, blood, blackmailing, threatening, delusional behavior, clingyness, sadistic behavior, separated body parts, mentions of torture, panic attack

Prompt 32: “Babe! I brought you a gift. You don’t know what that is? Let me tell you. These are the eyes of the person who kept looking at you today.”

Saying that you felt on edge was an understatement right now, you felt like you were on fire, hands sweaty and stomach churning in a way that made you fear that you might just throw up all the food you had managed to choke down so far. It wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate Shuu’s gesture of kindness, inviting you over to a date in a really expensive restaurant which you had always wanted to visit, but had simply never had the money to pay for it. But Shuu had money and was ready to spill it all for you as long as you behaved. And you had behaved, choosing to not make him mad or angry and trigger him to hurt you. That was just a one way ticket to hell. Your hand went unconsciously to your shoulder, tracing the now scared place where he had bitten you as a punishment for insulting and yelling at him. It had been the first time he had hurt you and you had decided that your heart wouldn’t handle a second time. And it wasn’t because of the excruciating pain. It was rather because you feared seeing his personality switch once again, seeing this huge and disturbingly adoring grin on his face, hearing his cooing and judging honey dripping voice again and having him wiping and licking all the tears away whilst praising you for looking even pretty with tears on your face. You had already made once the mistake of underestimating him for just a lovesick fool. And you would never make this mistake again.

But right now you didn’t fear for yourself, trusting Shuu enough that he wouldn’t do anything to you because of this. You hoped so at least. But you felt right now terrified for the person who hadn’t stopped looking at you since quite some time now. A quite pretty looking lady in a fine dress, looking quite seducing. It was hard to believe that she was sitting alone there without a partner. The moment she had sat down there and her eyes had caught you, she had kept throwing glances at you. You had actually expected someone who looked like her to look more at Shuu who was attractive, you couldn’t deny that. But instead she kept looking at you. And not out of jealousy because she wished to be in your place, but with this certain interest in her eyes. An interest that could and would cost her her life if she wouldn’t stop very soon. Shuu wasn’t someone who had a very good amount of patience. He was in fact a total attention seeker and hated it when you acknowledged or even looked at someone else. Shuu was a jealous man and that was all the reason he needed to devour someone, make them a toy for his shoes or do other inhuman things to them. You had witnessed it so often before, countless times having been forced to watch those games of his, staring in horror how the persons who had made him jealous died like an animal. It had been such gruesome scenes that never stopped haunting you in your dreams.

And by the look on his face you knew that this woman there was damn close to ending as a short entertainment for his fellow gourmet friends as well. He had a look of irritation on his face, his eyebrow constantly twitching and a deep frown on his face. He honestly looked like he wanted to pierce someone’s gut now, his fist grabbing the fabric of the tablecloth tightly that you feared he would rip it at any moment, his knuckles having turned a ghostly white by now. There was an extreme tension in the air, you feeling like any rushed movement would set sparks on you. He was still trying his hardest to keep his composure, you knew that he didn’t like losing his control in public, but he was also damn close to snapping. The fact that you felt the gaze of the woman lingering on you didn’t help and you couldn’t even describe how tempted you felt to glance back at her, more out of fear to give her a sign that she should stop looking at you if she loved her life. But you also didn’t want to risk angering Shuu even more than he was already. It took surprisingly much of your willpower to not glance back at her, the temptation feeling like a magnet, pulling you with an invisible force to just look shortly at her. And all it took was one short moment of hesitation for you, your eyes instantly wandering to hers and staring right at her. And she seemed to like it, giving you a small smile, triumphant that she finally managed to get your attention and winked at you.

“Wham!“ You flinched the moment you heard the loud noise coming from Shuu, slamming his fist on the table and hearing a few shocked and startled gasps from the people around you, one of them choking on his glass of water and starting coughing badly. And the moment you felt all the eyes on you and Shuu, you felt your face heating up out of embarrassment, sinking a bit deeper into your chair. Embarrassing. But you weren’t half as embarrassed as you were terrified right now. He had just snapped and from previous experiences you knew that this meant no good for anyone who had made him snap. He currently seemed to try to gain his self-control, his purple hair covering his eyes and due to you sitting so closely to him you were also able to hear his uneven breathing, the way he tried to breathe deeply in and out to calm down. Could you eventually help him somehow calming down? Or would that anger him even more? For a while you thought panicked whether you wanted to risk getting on his bad side or not before deciding to give it a try. “Sh-Shuu?” Your voice didn’t manage to spit out anything more than just a soft mutter of his name, breaking the moment this word had flown over your lips. But it seemed to have a great affect on Shuu, and to your huge relief also a good one. His shoulders slumped down and he slowly let himself fall back into his chair, the fist which had slammed the table grabbing your hand to search for some comfort, squeezing it tightly to finally come back to his senses.

A few more agonizing seconds passed by, you stiffing painfully up, not knowing what would happen next since his head was still hanging low, preventing you from seeing his face and judging. But his tight grip seemed to loosen up shortly after and with one last deep breath Tsukiyama looked up again, looking perfectly under control and giving you one of his charming smiles. “Oui chéri?” You yourself couldn’t help, but sigh relieved when hearing him speaking to you in French again, this meant most of the time that he was in a good mood. “A-are you fine?” You sounded very nervous, Tsukiyama noticing it from the way your lips pressed into a thin line. “No need to feel nervous. I’m sorry if I should have scared you with my sudden outburst before. Can you forgive me?” You nodded quickly, not wanting him to get upset again. “However...”, he suddenly stood up, looking around and waving at one of the waiters,”Let’s go back home again, alright? I’m so sorry for having ruined this date. We’ll dine later this evening again, okay?” What other choice did you have? You just gave him a slight nod, feeling disappointed that you had to already go back, but not protesting, just taking the hand he offered you and quickly walking behind him whilst he dragged you out of the restaurant. On your way out you couldn’t help, but look shortly back at the woman who seemed almost disappointed that you were already leaving. It was probably due to that, that you didn’t notice Tsukiyama glaring at her as well.

“Can I do anything else for you, master (y/n)?” You scratched your head, feeling uncomfortable to be constantly referred to as master. “No, Kanae. You did already enough. Thank you a lot for your help.” The boy bowed respectfully. “You don’t need to thank me. It’s my job to take care of you.”, he said with his thick accent, making you smile half-heartedly. You really didn’t like how you were treated, not appreciating that you couldn’t even bathe without one of the servants in this house constantly being near you and bringing you all kind of soaps and shampoo. You remembered that when you had been young, you had always wished to be treated like a royalty. But now that you had grown up and had the wish to be independent you didn’t like all of this one bit. Due to being Shuu’s beloved, you had been welcomed quite warmly in his family despite being a human. And living in a manor full of ghouls never failed to give you often a heart attack since many of them often glances at you with those hungry eyes, your scent intriguing them. It wasn’t like any of them would dare to touch you, the only one who was allowed to feast from you and touch you at all was their master. And to your huge surprise Tsukiyama had made it clear to all of his servants that he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable by all their stares, this was after all your new home and it should feel like one to you. Besides, those servants were pretty much the only people who you were allowed to have contact with without having to worry about Shuu getting jealous too much. And so you had at one point striked becoming friends with them so you had at least some company when Shuu was, like right now, not here with you. Kanae for example was something you would call your friend since he was often the one who served and fulfilled your wishes.

“Wait. There’s one thing I would like to ask you.” Kanae instantly turned around. “Whatever you wish for. What do you need?” “Do you know when Shuu is coming back? He’s been gone for a while now.”, you asked awkwardly, not believing that you asked when your kidnapper would come back. On Kanae’s face appeared for a short moment a look of happiness, obviously glad that you had asked when Shuu would come back. At the beginning it hadn’t been all that pretty between you two, often ending with you yelling and crying and him weeping and crying together with you. It had been exhausting times and all the servants had felt terrible for their master who had looked so heartbroken because you had kept rejecting him. But after you had stopped fighting back, Shuu had started looking so happy, every morning basically beaming when greeting others and even skipping around the manor out of happiness. And to say that his family adored you for making their treasured son and master so happy was an understatement. They helped him with whatever they could, being that watching over you, making sure you were spoiled or helping him murdering everyone who was a thorn in his eyes. They stood behind him, following his lead and making your hopes of escaping vanishing into thin air. “Master Shuu will be back very soon. Don’t worry, I’ll inform you as soon as I see him again. He’s currently busy with something.” Something, hmm? You had a bad feeling about this, remembering too well the woman from earlier this day.

“Babe! I brought you a gift.” Shuu’s happy and cheerful voice roused you from your sleep, not remembering how long exactly you had been in your dreamland. It was dark outside and if you remembered right the last time you had been awake the sun had still stood. That also meant Shuu had been for hours out, making you wonder what exactly he had been doing so long. Kanae had actually wanted to wake you up, but you guessed he had decided against it when seeing that you had fallen asleep. You had been told from many people in here before that no one had the heart to wake you really up since you looked absolutely precious when being asleep. And Shuu himself absolutely adored it when you were asleep, even better when you fell asleep whilst he was holding you. “Oh, I’m sorry for waking you up, mon amour. I didn’t know you were already asleep.” You felt the mattress next to you shifting a bit, Shuu crawling next to you, his face moving itself in front of you and staring with those magnificent and lovingly eyes down at you. You were barely awake, blinking tiredly up at him. “Shuu? Where have you been so long?”, you managed to mumble out, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wake fully up. “Has my darling missed me? I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. But I was only away because I prepared something for you.”, Shuu cooed with a sweet voice at you, bending down to your face to press a kiss against your nose.

“A...gift? Shuu, you know that you don’t have to keep buying me things all the time.” Upon hearing this, Shuu chuckled a bit. “But I want to. I want to spoil the rotten out of my sweet, little baby. But if it soothes you, I didn’t waste any money this time even though I can do that whenever you ask me. But this gift is self-made.” Self-made? You pushed him lightly away so you would be able to sit up, looking still drowsily at him. Shuu smiled gently at you while pulling a small box out from behind his back, wrapped up in blue paper and wrapped up with a purple ribbon. You hesitantly took it, observing it, trying to figure out what was inside. “What are you waiting for? Open it.”, Shuu encouraged you, looking a bit too excited about all of this, giving you a nasty and bad feeling. On the other hand you also didn’t want to disappoint him, slowly and carefully pulling the ribbon open and fumbling with the wrapping paper, not wanting to make too much of a mess. Inside of the paper was a casket, made out of wood with fine patters engraved on it. And you could basically feel the bad aura radiating from it, giving you the feeling that you should prepare your nerves for whatever would come. “Come ooon. Just Open it.”, Shuu whined, shifting back and forth next to you, clearly excited about all of this. You gulped the lump in your throat back, taking one last deep breath before finally opening the box.

Only to slam it the very next second close again with an incredible force, the sudden noise echoing in the room. You felt all the color leaving your face, your blood running cold and causing you to shiver. “S-Sh-Shuu,” Your voice was shaking terribly, feeling like it couldn’t keep up for too much words,”W-what is this?” Shuu tilted his head confused, taking the box gently out of your hands and opening it. “You don’t know what that is? Let me tell you.” Without a real care in the world he grabbed the content of it, turning the small spherical and rubbery thing around, squeezing it a bit. And only watching him touching that thing caused nausea to rise up inside of you. “These are the eyes of the person who kept looking at you today.” You stared paralyzed at the eyeball he was holding in his eye, staring inside the pupil, the color looking way too familiar. You remembered those eyes, only a few hours ago these eyeballs had still belonged to a person, to a young woman. “(y/n), don’t you like it? I put in quite the effort to get those. I actually planned to bring you the whole body, but that would have made quite the mess so I decided to bring you only the eyeballs.” How could he ask you such a question?! Didn’t he have any sort of sympathy?! How could he?! How could he?! And why were you even surprised?!

You suddenly felt like an invisible chain was tightening it’s grip on your chest, making breathing suddenly incredibly difficult for you, nearly choking on the air. Your whole body starting trembling violently, being shaken up deep inside your core. Tears started to blur your vision and with a numbing realization you suddenly knew what was happening. You had a panic attack, your heart feeling like it could burst at any moment inside of your chest. And Shuu noticed it as well, through your tears, which had by now started to stream down your face, you saw his facial expression changing into on of frantic panic. “Darling? What’s wrong?!” You couldn’t manage to breathe, your breath stuttering in your throat in a desperate attempt to get enough oxygen. “(y/n)!! You need to breathe!! Stop doing this!! You won’t get enough air!!” By now he sounded like he could cry and you were sure he would start at any minute, but it wasn’t like you could care right now, your own panic attack keeping you busy. By now you had starting to cough heavily, choking constantly due to the gasping for air on your spit which didn’t really help the situation. You heard Shuu cursing in French before suddenly storming to the door, ripping it open and yelling something, his voice dripping with desperation. The rest was for you only a fuzzy memory, everything around you seemingly fading away, the only thing being taken notice of from you was your own achingly loud heartbeat, hurting every time it hit your rib cage and your own uneven and shaking breathing, the salty tears spilling out of your eyes and your own misery washing over you. The picture of the woman was ghosting in front of your eyes and you had only enough energy for one thought, repeating itself in your mind. “Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.”

“Take a deep breath in...Hold your breath for a few seconds...And breathe out as long as possible. Very good (y/n). And another time. Take a deep breath in...Hold your breath for a few second...And breathe out as long as possible.” You felt beyond exhausted, mentally and physically. But at least you had now calmed down enough, your body having stopped stifling up and trembling like a leaf in a storm and with Mirumo’s help and guidance you had managed to get control over your breathing as well, the older man showing great patience and understanding with you. You questioned yourself if he had firsthand experienced such things often before, having handled this challenge so professionally and calm as if having done it countless times before. But at the moment you were too exhausted to think too deeply about it, your whole body being worn out from the constant shaking and you felt like the slightest movement was too much, leading you to not wanting to move a single muscle, just laying motionless in the bed. Mirumo had explained the situation to you after you had slowly started focusing back on the real world what had happened, that one of the servants had panicked interrupted his tea time, telling him what had happened and that he had instantly rushed to Shuu’s room who had cried and hissed at everyone to do something. Mirumo had sent everyone, including his son who had needed time to calm down, away, needing silence, peace and space to be able to help you at all.

“How are you feeling?”, the man asked you, a look of slight concern and sympathy visible on his face. Your eyes darted to him, giving him a thankful look. “I’m exhausted.”, you mumbled out. He nodded understandingly. “No wonder. It’s been nearly fifty minutes after all. Most panic attacks last usually 5 to 20 minutes, but it isn’t unheard of cases like yours where it nearly took an hour. I would advice for you to drink something and then try to sleep a bit. You’ve been drained of all your energy.” He stood up, planning to walk outside before remembering something and turning one last time around. “Before I go let me ask you this question. Are you fine with sleeping tonight with Shuu? I completely understand if you aren’t and will let the servants prepare the guest room for him. I heard what happened and will scold him later on for this properly. You need your deserved break now and it would be unfortunate if you have another attack because of my son’s overbearing behavior.” You smiled a bit, feeling grateful that at least Shuu’s father was reliable. “It’s fine.”, you whispered softly, not wanting to be left alone tonight and giving him a small nod of affirmation when he gave you a surprised look. “If you say so. But give me a moment. I need to explain to him how to not act around you right now.” With these words he left you, giving you a feeling of unease. For a short moment you were able to catch a glimpse of alll the worried servants who were waiting nervously outside. You guessed that Shuu was in a completely other room right now or else he would have burst in the room to see if you were starting to feel better.

You were nearly asleep when you heard the door creaking slightly, telling you that Shuu had come back. You didn’t want to know what exactly had his father told him, but you were pretty sure that Shuu had been in for quite the ruthless lecture from his father since the old man truly cared for you and had accepted you as a full member of this family the moment he had seen how much joy you brought his son. And you guessed Shuu had really heard someone from his father, not wailing and annoying you with questions like he usually did whenever you hurt yourself or cried. Instead he just crawled quietly inside the bed with you, doing his best to not wake you up. The only noises he made were sniffling sounds, you only being able to imagine how much tears he had spilled this last hour. But you were thankful for the quietness, the last thing you needed right now was another headache. But you did tense up for a short moment when he suddenly wrapped his arms around you and placed his head on your shoulder, damping the fabric of your pajamas instantly with tears he tried to cry as silently as possible, his grip tightening around you as if scared that you would fade away if he wouldn’t hold you tightly. “I-I am so sorry for this, darling.”, he stuttered out, voice quiet, heartbroken and ashamed of himself.

[mhdiaries]

SDCC 2015 Kieran Valentine Diary

May 1st

When I left Monster High after Draculaura’s Sweet 1,600 birthday party, I was angry, humiliated and stinky from falling into that pit of eternal body odor. I stank so bad, Mom wouldn’t even let me in the house: I had to sleep in the guest room above the garage. Looking back, I can see it was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. Even my considerable powers to charm were no match for the power of the stench that surrounded me. My powers slowly weakened as I was deprived of what sustained them: the love I selfishly took from others. I was in a stench-induced imprisonment - rarely leaving the garage - but it allowed me time to do some serious thinking, and I realized I wasn’t being true to myself. Then one day there was a knock at my door, and I opened it to see a little old goblin woman with a cane staring up at me through thick glasses. “I’m Mrs. Goblin, but you can call me “Mrs. Goblin.” I’m a friend of your mother’s.” She said, “you need to get out of that room, and I need some help, so let’s go.” She turned and walked off, and, with nothing left to lose, I followed. It turned out that she ran an unwanted-creature shelter and couldn’t keep up with all the cleaning, feeding and daily upkeep. It also turned out that she had no sense of smell. “Lost it back in ‘72,” she told me. Mrs. G. ran me through the daily routines and gave me the tour. “You can start today,” she said as she handed me a mop and a bucket. It’s hard to believe I agreed, but I didn’t have any other options. The shelter was home to an unusual collection of exotic creatures: gremlins, flying monkeys, lap dragons, miniature manticores, and many others that had been picked up as strays or turned in by monsters who didn’t want them. Even though the work was hard, and not always pleasant, I began to look forward to it. In fact, I usually felt more energized after I finished a day than when I started. I felt my powers returning and every day I got stronger. Eventually, I mentioned it to Mrs. Goblin who snickered, “You emotional vampires never get it - stolen love is just empty calories. I’ll never sustain you for long.” She could tell I still didn’t get it. “Love that’s freely given is the most powerful source of energy in the monster universe. You’ve been coming here every day, taking care of these critters, showing them kindness, and the only thing they have to give you is their love - and believe me, they have a lot to give.” I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. I must have been standing there looking stupid because she said, “Close your mouth before the the flies get in and go clean the flying monkey cage. They’ve been throwing stuff again.” I was in a daze. Why had no one ever explained this to me? Rather than dwelling on it, I was just happy I finally knew. 

May 3rd

I now know that I did it - stealing love - because I thought that’s want an emotional vampire was supposed to do. But it never felt quite right. I thought if I kept doing it, it would eventually feel right. But it only made me angry and frustrated. Then when Draculaura called me - well, Toralei, really - I thought that if I could get the heart that got away, it would change me and everything would be fine. But I was just a real pain in the fang to everyone and made a fool of myself. So I’ve come to a conclusion: being myself has to be easier than not being myself, right? Back then, I hated the thought of who I really was, and that conflict made me become someone who wasn’t me. It’s time to be true to myself, but it’s scary. 

July 1st

Today was my one-year anniversary at the shelter. As I left the garage, I ran into Mom. She sniffed. “You don’t stink anymore.” It was true - the stench was gone. I gave Mom a hug and told her it must be due to what I’d learned from working for Mrs. Goblin. I thanked Mom for telling her I needed help. Mom looked at me strangely, “What are you going on about? I don’t know a Mrs. Goblin.” What? I ran to the shelter but when I got there it was boarded up and empty. How could this be? I crawled through a broken out window. A thick layer of dust covered everything and it looked like no one had been there in years. Then I noticed a piece of paper on the table where Mrs. G. used to sit and drink her tea. It was a not addressed to me:

V, 

There’s nothing more I can teach you. The rest will come when you put what you’ve learned into practice. Know that you are loved for what, and who you are.

Sincerely, 

“Mrs. Goblin”

P.S. Do the right thing or I’ll come back and make you clean out flying monkey cages again. 

July 2nd

I decided that I would try and “do the right thing” by heading back to MH to try and make up for my mistakes. I thought if I hid in the shadows and helped the couples of MH, you know be a Cupid to what was my destruction of love, I could make a difference and they would see that I was a changed monster. Well, my intentions were good, but things did not go as I had planned. I kinda, no, did, mess things up. Luckily, it all seemed to work out in the end, I guess, just not as I had hoped. I don’t think any of Draculaura and her friends will ever really trust me. And while I hope one day they can see I have changed, I know it will take time, too. I guess I can’t expect them to just forgive me right away. I will say one good thing hopefully came out of it. While attempting to hide in the shadows I bumped into a student I didn’t recognize. He said his name was Spelldon Cauldronello, he had only been at MH a couple weeks as he had been traveling with his older sister. Meeting him totally made me space and forget to send a text that was supposed to help Clawd. He asked if I went to MH and I said I was just visiting, but I would love to go to MH one day if I can. He said he’d keep me up on the groanings on around the halls if I wanted, so I gave him my number. At least the trip wasn’t a total stake. I do wish I could figure out how to make it up to Draculaura and her friends though. I know now that real friends help each other with their problems, not try to solve them for them.

July 7th

I was tempted to stay in my room today and treat myself to a monstrous blue funk, but, instead, I walked aimlessly outside until I found myself sitting on the beach watching the sun go down. That’s when I noticed something unusual partially buried in the sand. I pulled it out and die-scovered it was an ornate lantern caked with seaweed. I brushed it off... and got the shock of my unlife! The lantern began vibrating and glowing, like I had awakened something inside and it was not trying to get out. I dropped it like it was hot and fell back as smoke swirled up and out of this thing. When the smoke cleared away there was a ghoul floating above me. “I am the djinni of the lantern. What is your wish?”

July 10th

The djinni’s name is Whisp and we have something in common: the direction of our unlives changed because of Monster High. We shared our stories and struggles; neither of us has made the beast decisions, but we both want to be better monsters. We talked so much that Whisp had to remind me I had three wishes. I asked her I should wish for and she said, “I cannot tell you what to wish for, nor can I tell you what not to wish for, but I can say be scareful what you wish for.” I laughed and told her that sounded ominous. She didn’t see the humor in her statement. “Wishes are tricky things,” she replied, “They often have a mind of their own and don’t always come true in the way you expected.” I thought for a moment, and wish I could go back to Monster High and fix the things I had broken. Whisp rose into the air, her eyes glowing, and said, “As you wish.” Instantly, I was back at Draculaura’s Sweet 1600 party, only I was dressed like a repairman - tool belt and all. Headless Headmistress Bloodgood stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. “You need to repair the barrier around the pit of eternal body odor before another monster falls into it!” This wasn’t what I meant by “fixing what I had broken,” and there was no way I was getting close to that pit again. That’s when the other students saw me. A very large minotaur pointed his finger at me, “There he is again! Throw him back into the pit!” I wished myself out of MH and back in my room just in time to avoid another dunking. Two wishes down, one to go.

July 12th

Whisp has been very apologetic but she needn’t be. I wished for something so general that it could have been granted in numerous ways. What I really wanted was a chance to do something unselfish for the monsters I hurt - to give and not take. When I started working for Mrs. G., there were times I wished what someone else would do the dirty work so I could just play with the creatures. Now I know I just wished it to be easy. Whenever I was in the middle of something particularly loathsome, Mrs. G. would cackle, “Sometimes work stinks, doesn’t it?” The first few times she said it, I wanted to drop everything and go home. But I stuck it out, and, although I still have a long way to go, I’m a better monster for it. Unlife is a lot of work and I guess some problems aren’t meant to be solved by wishing them so. Speaking of wishes, I need to think of something non-ambiguous for the last one...

August 1st

I summoned Whisp today to grant my final wish. I admit I put it off because I was being selfish. I’ve never had a friend like her, and once my last wish is granted, the lantern will move on and I will probably never see her again. I considered freeing her from the lantern, but I don’t think she wants that: she loves being a djinni, appearing in new places and granting wishes. But I know she gets lonely at times, so this was my wish: “Whisp, I wish we could always be friends.” Whisp rose up, her eyes glowing: “As you wish!” I could see her smiling as she turned to smoke and returned to the lantern, which shot up and disappeared. I thought for a second that my wish wasn’t granted, but then my iCoffin lit up and I noticed a new app icon that looked like a little mirror. I tapped it and there was Whisp! Now, not matter where in the monster universe she is, we can talk to each other! “Yes, Mother, I’m talking to myself down here.”

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

now on ao3

In all the years they've travelled together, the only person they've ever come across on the road is Yennefer, much to Jaskier's immense displeasure. And then proceeded to run into her suspiciously often. Geralt puts it down to a wish or some such nonsense, but Jaskier doesn't care why so long as he doesn't have to spend any more time with her than he has to.

So when he hears Geralt talking to someone as he makes his way back to camp, his heart sinks immediately, expecting it to be Yennefer. But when Geralt makes it up to the campfire, there are two people with him, neither of whom are Yen. There are a taller blond man and a slim woman with bright eyes, neither of whom Jaskier recognizes.

"Jaskier," Geralt grunts, "we have company."

Thank you, Jaskier thinks, I can see that. He doesn't roll his eyes, but only because he doesn't want to make a bad impression on their guests.

"How wonderful!" he says, turning and crossing the camp to greet them.

The woman - Gwendolyn - introduces them, explaining that her partner Dominic once fought alongside Geralt to rid their village of a swarm of kikimores. Jaskier raises his eyes at the Witcher, but Geralt ignores him. There's a golden story in there somewhere and Jaskier makes it his job to learn it in full - if not from Geralt, maybe from Gwen.

Gwen is also a bard and Jaskier instantly adores her. She seems less interested in the fighting and adventures that Dominic goes on than Jaskier is with Geralt, but they find common ground in their music. And it's nice to have someone who really appreciates what is one of the most important things in Jaskier's life.

Geralt invites them to travel with them, much to Jaskier's surprise and Gwen and Dominic set their tent up next to Geralt's. Jaskier is looking forward to having company, even just for a few days. It's not often he has anyone to talk to other than Geralt and if he's learned anything in their time together, it's that Witchers don't make particularly good conversational companions. So he's glad to have the company, but as the night wears on, Jaskier's happiness dwindles.

Gwen and Dominic are so happy together, constantly touching and laughing and sharing their joint stories of life on the road. They're happy together and very much in love and Jaskier's heart aches wondering if he'll ever share that feeling with someone. He glances over at Geralt where he's prodding at the fire and smiles sadly. Even after all their years together, he can't be with the one he truly loves and seeing friends of Geralt's so happy together hurts in a way he didn't expect.

He's never wanted that one special person in his life; he likes being with different people each night, but he also can't imagine not coming back to Geralt at the end of the day. Geralt is his constant in an unpredictable world, but Jaskier still finds himself wanting more. Even if he shouldn't. Geralt has never made any indication that he'd even be interested in something more and yet Jaskier aches for it.

He curls in on himself when they sleep that night, keeping his distance from Geralt in the small tent and tries to forcibly ignore the empty feeling in his chest. When they wake in the morning, the four of them set out again, travelling at a steady pace.

Gwen joins Jaskier at the back, chatting away happily about the ballad she's working on and Jaskier's spirits rise again. They talk throughout the day as they walk and she asks about Geralt and their time together. Jaskier tells her a little, but leaves out certain details, not willing to face those feelings in the bright light of day.

When they stop for the evening, Jaskier pulls out his lute and plays for them while Geralt gets the tent set up. Dominic and Gwen join him and after a while, Geralt comes and sits next to him, much to Jaskier's surprise. He shares his wine and Jaskier drinks more than he should, overcompensating for the persistent ache in his chest.

Jaskier plays his best songs and Gwen sings along with more of them than Jaskier would expect her to know. He's pleased to know his words reach so far across the continent and it encourages him to sing louder, more enthusiastically. Geralt gives him a look, quirking an eyebrow at him, but Jaskier just winks in response and continues. Geralt may not appreciate him, but their new friends do.

It's not until the fire burns low that the ache returns. Gwen is sprawled in her lover's lap, grinning up at him and Jaskier has never seen someone look so in love. He's pleasantly drunk, toeing the line between a light buzz and too much. When Gwen and Dominic turn in for the night, scurrying away to their tent hand-in-hand, Jaskier excuses himself and slips away into the darkness. He’s not quite ready for bed, but he’s not up to sitting alone with Geralt right now, either.

The moon is full and bright, lighting the field adjacent to their camp and Jaskier strolls through the long grass. He wants what Gwen and Dominic have. He wants to feel that overwhelming adoration and have it reciprocated - even just for a little while. Love comes and goes, but he wants to know how it feels to have someone love him so completely. His romances have been fleeting or have taken place over years with their encounters few and far between; the only person he's been with for longer than a few weeks is Geralt. But Geralt is far from his true love - if there even is one true love for him.

But Geralt is different and Jaskier knows he will always hold a special place in his heart above the rest. Even if their relationship never becomes anything more than it is, Geralt will always be different. But the thought of continuing as they are sits heavy on Jaskier's heart. For the first time since he can remember, he feels alone, unwanted. And he knows it's not Geralt's fault for not wanting him, but he can't help being miserable anyway.

Footsteps approach from behind and he turns to find the Witcher coming up behind him. His hair shines in the moonlight and Jaskier lowers his eyes, smiling sadly.

"Come to bed, Jaskier. We have an early start tomorrow."

"Alright."

Jaskier offers up a smile and follows after him as usual, forcing down the desire to reach out and press up against him.

In the morning, Geralt is missing, but both Gwen and Dominic are sitting outside when Jaskier crawls out of his tent. He keeps his spirits up as well as he can, eating breakfast with their companions and passing his low mood off as sleepiness. When Geralt returns, he seems quieter than usual, but Jaskier suspects it's because this is the third day with travelling companions and Geralt is used to it just being the two of them.

They make it to town that day and Geralt takes on a contract for a ghoul that's been terrorizing the town at night. It means they'll be in town overnight at least and Jaskier books them a room at the inn and settles in while Geralt discusses his terms with the mayor.

Geralt leaves in the late afternoon and takes Dominic with him. Jaskier and Gwen stay behind at the inn, neither one less confused than the other. Jaskier doesn't say anything about it, but he finds himself worrying about what could possibly have spurred Geralt to take a companion to fulfil a contract. He rarely even lets Jaskier go when he promises to sit to one side and not get involved. Jaskier orders them a round of drinks and pushes the thoughts from his mind.

"So tell me about Geralt," Gwen beams, leaning across the table. She stretches her hands out, looking up at him expectantly. He knows what she wants to know, but Jaskier has nothing to offer.

Jaskier tells her everything he can. He recounts their travels together and sings Geralt's praises, talking of his achievements and all the lovely songs Jaskier's written because of him. Gwen just looks at him and he knows none of this is what she wants to hear.

"I've heard your songs," she says, "I want to know about him."

"I think you've got the wrong idea."

"I don't think I do," Gwen says softly. "I see the way you look at him when you don't think anyone is watching. The way you look like you could be happy to spend the rest of your life following blindly after him."

Jaskier opens his mouth to interrupt, but he's silenced with a single look. "Okay," he breathes.

"I also see the way he looks at you," she says, "like he's afraid you're going to walk out of his life one day and he'll never see you again."

"It's not like that. Geralt is my best friend and my muse and I don't know what I would do without him, but it's certainly not mutual. I'm giving him a better name, that's all. It's why he keeps me around." The words keep coming, but Jaskier's heart thuds heavily against his ribcage and he doesn't think he'll be able to stop speaking if Gwen doesn't interrupt him.

"Geralt is..." he falters, trying to come up with something to say and Gwen looks at him with such earnestness that he can't lie to her. "He's beautiful," he admits, "and he's so much kinder than anyone knows and if he wanted to settle down, he'd make a wonderful husband, but-"

"It's not like that?" she asks and Jaskier just offers her a sad smile.

When Geralt and Dominic return, both parties go their separate ways. Dominic and Gwen are moving on, but Jaskier has already rented a room and Geralt is tired and worn out by the time he returns. They say their goodbyes at the door to the inn and Jaskier watches as they saunter away hand-in-hand.

When they turn in, Geralt falls asleep nearly instantly. Fighting really takes a lot out of him and Jaskier pulls a blanket over him, smiling down as Geralt grumbles and rolls over in his sleep. Jaskier sits on the floor, leaning against the bed. He doesn't want to climb into bed with him because Geralt wakes easily and he needs his sleep. And Jaskier doesn't expect to sleep much tonight anyway.

He can't stop thinking about what Gwen said to him. Surely Geralt doesn't really look at him when he's not paying attention. And if he does, it's only to wish him silent.

They head out in the morning, but they don't get far before a storm breaks out. Roach spooks easily at the thunderclaps and Geralt herds them all under the shelter of the trees. They find a stone overhang that's just tall enough for them to crouch under and Geralt ties Roach to a tree a few feet from the entrance and sits with her until she calms.

Jaskier watches from his spot undercover, a small smile creeping onto his face. Geralt really is so soft and gentle and no one ever sees it. No one but him. He pushes himself up to keep from staring and collects as much dry wood as he can find for the fire, stacking it into a neat pile. He's no good at lighting them, but he can get it ready for Geralt to come back.

When he does, Jaskier smiles up at him from his spot against the wall. Geralt takes a seat next to him, quickly forming the sign to light the fire and Jaskier swallows back the spark of arousal that always accompanies Geralt using magic.

"It was nice to have company," he says simply and Geralt hums.

"I think I prefer when it's just the two of us."

Jaskier's heart leaps but he tries not to think too much about it. He smiles up at Geralt and slumps against the wall. Maybe it would be nice to be showered with affection all the time, but when he looks at Geralt, he can't imagine trading him for anything. He watches as Geralt pokes at the fire and realizes no amount of love and affection makes up for what he has now. They might not be together and Jaskier never expects things to change between them, but he loves Geralt for the emotionally unavailable idiot that he is.

They lay their bedrolls out and Geralt stops Jaskier as he moves further toward the back of the shelter. "It's a cold night," he says, "you should move closer."

"To the fire?"

"Hmm."

Jaskier looks up and Geralt is staring down at the ground. The thought that Geralt might want to keep him close bounces around Jaskier's head and he lays his bedroll between Geralt's and the fire. When he lies down, he still feels cold, but Geralt slips up behind him and Jaskier can feel the heat of his body against him. It makes his breath catch in his throat and he shuts his eyes, pressing back into him. He doesn't open his eyes because he can't bear to.

"If you want to leave, I won't ask you to stay," Geralt says quietly and Jaskier freezes.

"What?"

"The way you looked at Gwen and Dominic... you're a lover Jaskier, you can't spend your life chasing after an old Witcher."

"And if I want to?" he asks. His heart thuds loudly and he can barely think over it. Geralt stirs next to him and when Jaskier opens his eyes, Geralt is above him, looking down.

Jaskier reaches up, sliding a hand over Geralt's cheek. He can barely breathe with the fear of saying the wrong thing and when he opens his mouth, he almost forgets what he wanted to say.

"My darling Witcher," he breathes, "where else could I possibly want to be?"

"But you want more," Geralt says and if Jaskier didn't know better, he'd say he looks sad.

"Not if it means leaving you," Jaskier breathes. And he means it. He wouldn't give up Geralt for anything.

Geralt doesn't say anything and Jaskier doesn't know how long he can last hanging in this silence where he doesn't know what to say and Geralt looks like he wants to kiss him. He can't think, he can barely breathe in the silence, but he reaches up, sliding his arms around the back of Geralt's neck and sliding his fingers into his hair. He waits for a moment, giving Geralt the chance to pull away. He doesn't and Jaskier draws him closer.

"Don't do this just for me," he whispers and Geralt barely gives him a chance to finish before closing the space between them. His lips are soft but hesitant and Jaskier brings him closer, shows him he has nothing to be nervous about. When Geralt draws back, he looks almost sheepish.

"I'm not. I know I'm not good at things like this," he mumbles and Jaskier lets his hands slide to Geralt's face. He shakes his head and draws him close again.

"You're perfect."

[newworldriot]

because only one person wants this besides me, fallout 4 companions reacting to meeting sole survivor's best friend, courier six!

Cait:

A bit suspicious of the courier at first, however, she changes her tune once she sees how much the courier cares about Sole.

Also, if Six is ballsy enough to fistfight something like a Yao Guai, there is a decent level of respect off the bat.

Cait is still gonna side-eye Six. That's her partner, after all. But, as long as there's no push for Six to take over Sole's life, then Cait will stick to the side-eyeing.

Codsworth:

I feel like, out of all the companions, Codsworth is one of the most hyperaware of Six's presence.

He remembers how bad pre-war Vegas was, he's terrified to know how it is 210 years later.

That being said, while Sole is capable of handling themself, he still worries about them and the courier's intentions. Vegas earned the name Sin City for a reason, and if that's where Six is coming from, he'd hate to see Sole get hurt because of the courier.

Now, while suspicious of Six's intentions, he would also sympathize if Six opened up to them about the scar on their head. Learning Six was shoved into such a dangerous game of cat and mouse without ever having a say in the matter hurts Codsworth. This is elevated if the courier is younger or was younger at the start of their journey to find the Platinum Chip.

He probably won't ask about the scar, even though it's the first thing he notices about their appearance, but if they approached him to talk about it (be it out of fear Sole will coddle them or just not wanting to add more to their best friend's plate), he's more than willing to listen.

If Six has the Good Natured perk, then Codsworth would gladly fight alongside them. He can see they're pure hearted, even if they take a less than stellar approach. He'll have some recommendations, though.

Overall, I think that Codsworth would warm up to Six, even if it might take a while for him to overcome his protective nature towards Sole. Who knows, he might even become protective over Six, too.

Curie:

Very curious about the courier, especially if they've suffered some super bad levels of radiation. Like, how are you not a ghoul yet?

Also curious about the Mojave. She, like most of the Commonwealth, has only heard rumors about the desert, but nothing ever stays in the public sphere of interest for long, especially if it has nothing to do with the Brotherhood or Institute.

If Six is clumsy or gets hurt more often than not, Curie will simply laugh and shake her head while helping patch the courier up. If Sole is more graceful, she'll joke about Sole needing to "keep a closer eye on our friend here" so they'll stop getting bandaged up so much. It's all in good fun, of course.

I feel like a less aggressive Courier Six would get along with Curie perfectly, especially if the courier is eager to learn. They'll have more to bond over and share between them.

A more aggressive courier would worry Curie, she wouldn't want that aggression to spill over into the courier's friendship with Sole or her blossoming friendship with the courier. It's hard enough knowing total strangers will kill you without hesitation, it's worse when the threat is even closer to home.

Much like Codsworth, Curie instantly notices the scar. She won't push for answers, but she might hint at wanting to know where that came from. If Six decides to tell the tale, Curie is horrified and makes sure Six knows they have a friend in her, if they ever want to talk about it further.

Danse (Pre-Blind Betrayal):

Paladin Danse has no real concern for Courier Six, save the outfit if they don the NCR Ranger Combat Armor. He might have some questions then, maybe even take them aboard the Prydwen to let Maxson ask some questions.

Other than that, as long as they can fight, he's has no real opinions for them upon first encounter.

However, if Six is openly against the Brotherhood, he will not hesitate to tell them to leave or face the consequences. He'll tirade about why the Brotherhood is good for the waste and how they're helping, etc.

If he finds out they're the one who destroyed the Mojave chapter, he'll be pissed and they'll face Maxson.

If Six keeps that information to themself and just talks about New Vegas, Danse will be intrigued and want to record all of their knowledge. Having that in the Brotherhood archives might be useful later. Even if it isn't, he still wants to know about where this courier came from and how they ended up in the Commonwealth.

I doubt Six would tell about the scar until after Blind Betrayal, but if they do manage it beforehand, he'll provide his sympathy and remind them he and the Brotherhood are there for their protection.

Danse (Post-Blind Betrayal):

Now, without the Brotherhood, Danse is ghosting by, but he's learning who he is with the help of Sole and Six. He's glad to have these two as his friends, and especially wants Six to know him better now that all of it's over.

He can more clearly see why Sole chose Six to be their best friend. Six is a fighter, whether through fists or words, and refuses to give up. They stood up for him against Maxson, they stood by him when his family tossed him out and they're still here, even though they have no real reason to be. He hopes that they see him as a friend, even if they've already said they do.

With the Brotherhood out of the picture, he might feel more inclined to ask about where the scar came from. If Six is willing to open up at this point (assuming they hadn't before), they'll tell their story. While Danse isn't much for physical comfort, he might place a hand on their shoulder, acting as an anchor so they don't get lost in the memories. If they cry, he won't judge. It's a lot to go through, especially after being shot in the head.

Once they're all on more stable grounds relationship-wise, Danse won't be as quick to defend Maxson or the Brotherhood if Six talks about their feelings towards the BOS (if Six has any bad blood with them). Especially after learning what the Mojave chapter did to them, in perspective of Blind Betrayal, he can understand where the anger and hatred comes from. He'll still defend the people he knew and cared about, but he'll be more open to speaking on the Brotherhood's mission as a whole.

If Six is good with repairing things, Danse might invite them to work on fixing power armor or weapons with him as a bonding experience. Sole is always invited, as usual, but he'd also like to form more of a relationship with Six. Their friendship means a lot to him, and he'd like for them to trust him as completely as they can. If they're not great at it, he'd be more than happy to teach them.

Deacon:

Deacon is fascinated by Six. He knows so much about the pre-war world, and them coming from Vegas? Oh my god, he wants to know everything.

Placing this post-Hoover Dam, if the courier is a House Always Wins run, them even mentioning who they work for will send Deacon into a frenzy. They work for the Robert Edwin House? He's still alive and they work for him? Oh my god, oh my god-

If Six is more of a Charisma build with high Speech, Deacon will adore them instantly. They know what to say and how to say it, very spy-like, which is a big plus in his books. Especially if they're big on wardrobe changes to face certain people. He loves that.

If Six is more of a Strength or Intelligence build, Deacon has a lot of respect for them. Being strong enough to punch a Super Mutant and knock them out takes some serious work, and being smart enough to go head-to-head with Robert House also takes a lot of work, so he admires Six's dedication.

Honestly, Sole might be taking the backseat for a hot minute while Deacon picks apart Six's brain for all the knowledge they have on the Mojave. He wants to know what's different between there and the Commonwealth, and will be thrilled if Six seriously offered to take him back with them.

But, he still loves Sole and likes seeing them hang out with their best friend. It warms his heart to know they have Six, someone they can trust as much as Sole trusts Deacon. He'll give them room to do best friend things, and will gladly accept time with his partner. But, he has a new best friend too, and the three of them are inseparable.

Hancock:

Hancock is welcoming of Six, especially if they first meet in Goodneighbor. He gives them the spiel about what Goodneighbor provides, why its there, so on and so forth. He reminds them of who's in charge, and not to mess with that balance. If Six shoots back with some sarcasm, he'll laugh it off. He appreciates their sharp wit, and is an instant fan of their ability to shoot off without hesitation.

He doesn't need to know Six's story, but if they mention someone like Raul or the ghouls around Freeside, his curiosity gets the better of him and he'll pry for answers.

Six would become a good friend of his in a short amount of time, especially if he witnesses their combat abilities. Seeing they're able to protect not just themself, but Sole too, makes them a favorite in his eyes. His sunshine is able to care for themself, yea, but knowing someone else would take a bullet for them gives him some sense of relief. Sole has someone watching their back, and that's good enough for him.

The courier is welcome in Goodneighbor any time, and will always be greeted by Hancock with a smirk and some sarcasm.

Maccready:

Maccready already struggles to open up to anyone, but Sole's best friend? Now that's a challenge.

Who is Courier Six? How much do they know about Sole? Are they gonna try to replace him? It's a mix of anxiety and suspicion.

However, when Sole warns Mac about Six going through a lot, and then seeing the scar on their head, he instantly reels it back. He's seen enough gunshot wounds and scars to figure out what happened to them and it hits him that the shit they've been through is heavy. He'll be curious about the scar, naturally, but once he learns the story, his tune changes.

If Six is a skilled sharpshooter, Maccready will arrogantly challenge them in the middle of combat to see who's the better shot. If Six takes him up on it and wins, he'll give them an irritated 'congrats.'

But, he likes Six well enough. They protect Sole, they're good in a fight, and they're smart enough to not get themself killed again, so he has very few qualms with the courier from the west.

Nick Valentine:

Nick has varying opinions on Six, depending entirely on the kind of person they are. If they're good hearted and wanting to help the people of the wasteland, he likes them and wants to help them achieve their goals. If they're cruel and out for their interests only, he has a problem with them.

Nick's perceptive nature will give him enough of a lead to decide if he should ask about that elusive scar on their head. If the courier is jumpy or timid, they may not open up about it. If they're level-headed and only slightly pissed off, they're more likely to share the details. He'll end up asking at some point, it'll just depend on how much they trust him to know.

If Six travels with Sole and Nick to the Memory Den, they may use it as an excuse later to show Nick what happened if they're too afraid or traumatized to outright say it. If they open up and he doesn't completely believe the story, they'll more than happily show him what they went through as proof.

If Six's memories are lost of their life before Benny shot them, Nick will sympathize with waking up and not knowing who or what exactly you are. He'll want to help them as best he can, even if it only works a little bit.

Sole and Six are close, and he doesn't wanna interfere with that. But, if the duo invite him to join in their explorations or activities, he won't turn them down unless he's working on a case. He likes knowing he can trust Six to keep Sole safe and happy, and it makes him proud to see his partner having such a good relationship with their friend.

Piper:

Piper, like Deacon, is fascinated by Six, but for completely different reasons.

I mean, c'mon, a courier from the west shows up in the Commonwealth and stirs the pot? Now that's a story waiting to be told.

Now, if Sole tells Piper to back off with the journalist stuff, she'll ask if she really has to, but will tone it down if Sole says yes.

Piper will still want an interview, but will also take the time to get to know Six more personally so that she can understand her partner's best friend better. She wants to get along with them, if not to befriend Six, than to for Sole's sake.

If Six is witty and sarcastic, much like Hancock, Piper will be a fan of Six. She appreciates that they take no bullshit, and won't hesitate to make sure any instigator knows not to fuck with them.

If Six is more innocent, nervous, she'll feel bad for pushing so hard to get their story. They've been through a lot, and to force them to relive it when they're obviously still struggling with it is unfair of her to do. She might act more protectively over the courier if anyone in or around Diamond City tries to push Six around.

If Six is more cool and collected, Piper might push her luck to get the inside scoop on what happened to the courier and how they ended up so far from home. Their calm demeanor about being shot in the head may be off-putting for Piper, but hey, at least she got her story.

Seeing Six and Sole laugh and joke both makes her jealous and happy. Jealous because that's her Blue, and happy to see Sole has such a good friendship with Six.

X6-88:

X6 has several questions.

Where did Six come from? Why are they here? What are their intentions?

In time, he'll learn all the answers.

For now, he tries to read Six and see if he can determine the courier's motives. However, he falters when he sees Six take a bullet for Sole. One that would've gravely injured them.

He's still suspicious, but he quickly learns Six isn't there to hurt Sole. In fact, they'd rather be the one to get hurt over letting Sole take the hit.

It makes him reconsider his ideas of the courier. They did it because they care.

Maybe he won't study them and take this knowledge back to the Institute.

He doesn't get super close to the courier, but he does always take up their invitations to hang out with them and Sole. It makes him happy to see Sole enjoying themself.

Maybe there's hope for him to be friends with Six after all.

[violetnotez]

Izuku x reader

⤷ Genre: Fluff

⤷ Word Count: 2330+

⤷ Warnings: none!

⤷ Synopsis: You wake up one night to a nightmare, and the only person you want to comfort you is Izuku.

Song Recs: ⤷ Revive-Lione ⤷Graveyard-Halsey ⤷Passion-Mree

This fic is for the @bnhabookclub Bingo Event! Here’s my masterlist to see all my work for this event!

Bingo Slot: Lingering Hugs

Sorry for this being short! I just really wanted to keep it short and fluffy like Izuku

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

You tossed in your damp sheets, the fabric suffocating as it stuck to your skin.

Damn your brain-it was barely 1 in the morning, and of course you had to wake up, covered in sweat and your heart racing from fear, due to a nightmare.

Your brain relayed the terrible scenes in your mind, your heart picking up pace as each one flashed against your eyes. You tried to push the thoughts away, the skin of your eyes scrunched up tightly like thin rivers cross crossing against your skin.

Somehow the darkness behind your eyelids made your anxiety hitch even more, the walls of your room somehow feeling too small and suffocating.

You knew it was childish to be so scared of a figment if your brain’s imagination-but it felt so real, so terrifying. you flipped the sheets over your head, protecting yourself from any lurking ghouls and demons as your hand swiftly flailed out to grab your phone from the bedside table.

Your hand encased the device, bringing the small contraption quickly under the sheets with you. You cuddled closer to the phone, your eyes squinting from the intense brightness of the screen as you clicked it on.

Your cursed quietly from the intense flash of light, your thumbs unlocking the phone screen and quickly going to your messages.

You felt bad to be texting Izuku so late at night, knowing the poor boy must be tired. He was always studying or training, always working towards his goals yet always refusing to ever sleep. You were always the one to force him to take a nap or actually get a few hours of rest, so you felt guilty for ruining his sleep when he rarely got any.

But the race in your heart and the panic in your mind pushed away that guilt-all you could think of was the comforting embrace of your green haired boyfriend, and his reassuring voice telling you everything would be alright. You desperately craved his positive energy and warm hold, your fingers quickly forming a quick text-

“Are you awake 🥺?”

You sent the message, the little bubble of speech displaying on the screen. You stared at it for a few moments, your brain somehow trying to will Izuku to look a his phone.

You sighed, knowing that that was futile and, well, not possible. You fingers clicked off the messaging app, your tired mind deciding to go into Youtube and watch a few videos, hoping they would lull you back to sleep.

Maybe he would message you back-and hopefully soon.

Even as you clicked on your favorite YouTuber and settled into a comforting old video, your heart was still racing with the fuzzy scenes of your dream. They were gripping your body with fear, making your muscles taut with anxiety and your brain fumbling to stay sane.

Your toes curled in the sheets, scrunching the now hot fabric as you prayed Izuku would text you back soon.

Not too long after you delved into your second video, your screen pop up with a call from Izuku, his name you had given him, “Broccoli Bae💚”, bringing a small smirk to your cheeks. You quickly took the call, bringing the screen to your warm ear.

“Hey ‘Zuku,” you grinned slightly, your heart flooding with ease as you heard Izuku’s calming voice on the other side.

“Hi puppy,” His voice sounded thick with sleep, his tone sounding slightly worried, “ are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Izuku was always fussing over you, making sure you were comfortable, safe and happy. It was heartwarming how much he tried to make sure you were okay, and sometimes you wondered how you were able to land such an amazing guy as Midoriya.

You sighed, shifting slightly under your thick blankets.

“Well, um, I had a bad dream…” you chuckled nervously, feeling embarrassment trickle into your stomach.

Even though you knew Izuku wouldn’t judge you or find you strange for having a nightmare, it still felt silly you had to call him to feel better. Something about Izuku though always calmed your nerves, making you feel so safe and secure. He was your rock, your shield, your home away from home when your life was in turmoil around you.

“A nightmare?” He repeated, his sweet voice awakening slightly from the grogginess. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’d-rather not..” you smiled softly, the motion evident in your voice. “I just wanted to hear your voice,”

You heard Izuku chuckling nervously, imagining the boy’s adorable blush as he laid in his bed, one of his comfy shirts wrapped around his frame. A pang of want filled your chest, wishing you could crawl yourself out of your bed and into the comforting arms of Izuku’s.

“Oh-oh I’m happy I can make you feel a little better!” He stuttered out, his voice feathery and bright. “It must have been pretty scary if you needed to talk to me…”

He almost said it as an afterthought, as if he was talking aloud to himself and didn’t realize he had spoken it so clearly. You sighed again, brushing a damp piece of hair from your face. Memories flooded into your mind again, making a cold pang of fear attack your chest.

“It-it was,” you gulped, trying to push that fearful feeling down your throat. “Can you stay on the phone? Please? I just need to take my mind off of it-“

You hated how needy and desperate your voice sounded, as if you were pleading to Izuku to stay up with you.

“O-okay, don’t worry, Ill be with you for as long as you need me,” you heard the worry in Izuku’s voice multiply, making his voice soft and warm as he spoke to you so gently.

You began to here a rustling on the over the side of the phone, the faint sound of a door opening and closing swiftly entering the connection.

You cocked a brow, holding the phone closer to your ear-was he walking around?

“Whatcha doing ‘Zuku?” you mumbled into the phone, a nervous chuckle cascading into your ears.

“Nothing!” he immediately stated, a grin forming on your lips.

Izuku was the most terrible liar-ever.

Just as you were about to press your adorably awkward boyfriend for more information, you heard a slight rap on your door, making you jump. Your tired mind immediately reimagined your dream, your blood running cold from the thought.

But that’s when you realized you heard that knock a few seconds after though the phone speaker.

“Izuku-are you-outside my door?” Your heart soared at the thought, your voice full of shock.

Izuku gave a small chuckle, trying his best to stay quiet.

“I’m sorry, I had to come over once you said you had a hard time sleeping, I was hoping I could-“

You instantly flung your sheets off your sticky body, the smile bright against your cheeks as you ran to the door.

Any thought of that evil dream seemed to escape your mind-just the thought of Izuku being sweet enough to break the rules for you made you love him a little more. Midoriya was a good student, but wasn’t the best at following rules. Still, he could get in serious trouble for sneaking out in the middle of the night, and the fact he did that just to make you feel better made you have the intense urge to just wrap him in the biggest hug ever.

Your hand wrapped around the cold doorknob, the door creaking slightly as you were met with a blushing Midoriya. His eyes were bright and cheerful, the white shirt he was wearing crumpled in places and his curly green hair even more unruly than usual.

Even with his sheepish expression and awkward stance, he looked ethereal and protecting, like a knight in shining armor. Just his presence in front of you made your heart swell and your body loosen, as if the dam of fear that was cascading throughout your body was finally quenched and secure. Izuku held the fear at bay inside you,and you couldn’t be more grateful.

When Izuku had decided to come to your room, he was afraid you may be a little angry with him. You were always trying to make sure he stayed out of trouble, which was near impossible with his impulsive nature, but he couldn’t just sit in his room knowing you were overcome with fear. He knew he had to go and comfort you, even if it was just for a few moments, so you could get some well deserved sleep.

Now that Izuku was standing in front of you, all worry of you being angry left this mind. He could only focus on how adorable you looked when you first came from bed, your hair messy and tangled as the over sized shirt you wore pooled around your thighs. You looked so snuggly and warm, he felt embarrassed from the thought of wanting to hold you so badly.

Before he could even utter a word your body instantly collided with his, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. Izuku felt his blood against his eardrums, his face an unnatural shade of red as you cuddled into his neck, those soft green tresses tickling your forehead.

Izuku felt cool against your warm skin, a welcoming sensation from hiding under your blankets for so long. Your nose snuggled into the crook of his neck, taking in the scent that was so invigorating and intoxicating. It always reminded you of such soothing scents, like fresh linen or the ground after a rainstorm. The taut muscles encasing his arms wrapped around yours, holding you close to his body and making you feel secure. Your body melted into his, the worries of that nightmare doing the same.

Izuku sighed peacefully, his chin resting against the tip of your shoulder.

“You okay angel?” He asked sweetly, the palms of his hands rubbing soothing circles along your back.

It almost felt too good to be true, to have Izuku so close to you, even with his sweet voice gracing your ears. Your arms squeezed him a little tighter, almost like a vice against his scarred skin.

The shock of Izuku so near you mixed with the terrible memories resurfacing through your mind made your chest feel tight and your heart quicken. The fear was somehow growing in your chest again, your hands digging deeper into his skin.

Izuku felt your chest collide against his, the back muscles he was rubbing so tenderly tightening under his palms. A small sniffle emitted from your nose, warm tears trailing down your cheeks.

Izuku held you tighter, your tears staining the rim of his white shirt as you cried out the fear that had been stuck in your chest for so long.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’m not trying-to be- dramatic,” you blubbered out, the tears making it difficult to apologize.

Izuku lovingly kissed the skin on your neck, just under your ear.

“Puppy, you don’t have to apologize-really,” he cooed into your ear. “Just take your time, it’s okay to feel scared, I’m right here-“

He smiled gently as he noticed how his words affected you-you seemed calmer and more still, the muscles on your back and chest not so tight against his limbs. But he could tell you were still really shaken up by that nightmare, and he was more than willing to stay with you for as long as you needed.

“I-I’ll stay with you-for as long as you need me to,” he whispered into your ear, leaving a tingly sensation against your spine, “Is that okay angel? Would you want me to stay with you?”

You brain felt numb, your limbs heavy with lead from the breakdown that had overtaken your body. All you could muster was a quick nod, your chest still heaving slightly from the sobbing.

Izuku smiled gently, a blush creeping into his cheeks. His hands began to softly run downward against your back, his digits trailing lower and lower. Your breath hitched as his fingers hooked against the plush skin of your thighs, raising your legs up around his torso.

Your heart was beating fiercely against your chest as Izuku carried you into your room, shutting the door with his foot.

The feeling of your feet unattached to the sturdy floor made you grip Izuku tighter, a small giggle escaping your stuffy chest.

“You’re way more bold tonight ‘Zuku,” you smiled against his neck, making Izuku’s heart race.

“Well I-I want to make sure you know I’m here for you puppy,” he stuttered, his cheeks bright red with heat as he laid you gently against the bed. “Your my sweet angel, and-and I hate to see you feel so sad.”

You cuddled your tear stain face into the pillow, facing Izuku’s sweet expression. His wide eyes were bright with love, the moonlight shifting through your sheer curtains making him look ethereal, his green hair glowing eerily and his freckles dusted against his cheeks like little galaxies. His scarred digits wrapped against your own, bringing your hand to his lips. He gave your knuckles a chasté kiss, letting your fingers graze against his warm cheecks.

“Can I get you anything puppy? Do you need water? Or maybe some more blankets? I can go to my room and bring some more if you like-“

You gave the boy a grin as he began to start blabbering again, his ideas and suggestions so fast they were beginning to mold to one.

Your hands reached out for Izuku, the digits curling against the collar of his shirt and pulling him gently towards the bed.

You watched his eyes widened in shock, a small, sheepish grin forming against his lips as he realized what you were implying.

“Nope,” you smiled, popping the “p” in your sentence, “I just need you.”

Taggings:

@weebartistinc @orokayagi @leeeah-loooser @bakarinnie @freckledoriya

[kittenofdoomage]

Traps

@badthingshappenbingo​ Prompt: Compelling Voice

Fandom: Supernatural

Ao3 Link: Traps On Ao3

Rating: Mature

Summary: She’s on Michael’s trail to get Dean back (spoilers for S14)

Characters/Pairing: Michael!Dean, Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: 2344

Warnings: angst, angst, angst, mind control, character death. This really is angsty, guys.

She’s too late again. The small cabin - more of a shack really - is empty except for the corpse on the floor, his burned and hollowed out gaze fixed on the ceiling. Michael’s gone, Dean with him, and she’s only following a trail of bodies.

With a weary sigh, she sinks down into the armchair by the door, sliding her hands along the upholstery to clutch the arms tightly. Her phone beeps, so she pulls it out, finding another hit, Singapore this time. There’s no pattern to his movements, except that there’s a body or sometimes bodies, wherever he goes.

Sam’s left voicemails again, begging her to come home. It feels like forever since she’s seen him, but it’s only actually been three weeks. A little more since she’s last laid eyes on Dean, stumbling through the portal from the apocalypse world. She promised Sam she’d go home but she can’t, not until she has him back.

She doesn’t bother telling anyone about the body in the shack, putting her foot to the floor of her battered Honda and gunning it away. Within hours, she’s got another possible sighting, and she’s turning East, still hoping she can get back the only man she’s ever really loved.

Sam calls. She ignores it. Pulls into a motel about sixty miles from where she needs to be because her eyes are closing on her and she can’t try and pretend she doesn’t need to sleep anymore. She manages four hours, still too much, and she’s back on the road, gas pedal pressed down, not even the radio for background noise.

There’s a good chance any song she hears is gonna remind her of Dean, and she’s not sure she’s strong enough to not cry.

The sun’s coming up as she pulls into Bridge Falls, over the steel construct that passes the waterfalls that gave the town their name. It’s picturesque, small-town America, and she hasn’t got a clue what Michael would want here.

A few hours of driving around leave her with nothing but an empty gas tank. She finds a motel, books a room, and tries to contact the witch who’s been tracking Michael for her. He doesn’t answer, and she’s left alone in the quiet, unsure what to do next.

The bedside lamp flickers and she hears wings before she sees him; her breath catches in her throat and she grips the edge of the bed she’s sitting on, staring at him in disbelief.

“You’ve been looking for me,” Michael drawls, inspecting his fingernails as he casually leans against the divider by the door. “Why?”

“You know why,” she rasps back, reaching for the pistol in the back of her pants.

Michael’s not dumb enough for that. She’s surrounded by grace in the next minute, suffocated by it, and the archangel steps towards her, finally looking right at her. Those green eyes she’s so familiar with hold nothing but contempt and amusement, glowing blue as he exerts his power to get into her head.

He’s watching her memories of Dean, right down to the explicit stuff, making her watch too, and there’s curiosity now when he looks at her. “What do you want?” he asks in a low growl.

His question is an order that burrows into her skull and forces an answer from her lips. “D-Dean,” she chokes out, and Michael pulls her to her feet with the squeeze of his hand around thin air.

“And what makes you think I’ll give him back to you?” he murmurs, inches away from her now. He doesn’t even smell like Dean - he smells like burned ozone and embers, like destruction on her tongue. “What makes you think,” Michael continues, lifting his chin, looking at her like she’s a bug that needs to be squashed, “he’s even still alive?”

She doesn’t. But she’s never stopped believing in Dean. She’s seen the things he and Sam have done, the things they’ve defied, and she refuses to believe that this is how it ends for him. Tears are clinging to her lashes as she fights Michael’s hold, staring him dead in the eye.

“I have faith,” she spits bitterly.

Surprisingly, he laughs, and it’s a foreign, stiff sound from Dean’s lips, almost as if the archangel hasn’t quite gotten the hang of it yet. He moves with a mechanical smoothness that belonged to Dean first, turning his back on her but keeping her in his celestial grip.

“Your witch is dead,” he comments; she thinks she might have known that already. “I thought it was Sam at first, he’s usually the one who comes running after Dean, right?”

When she doesn’t say anything, he glances at her, his lips quirking into a smile.

“Answer me,” he commands, and the order is too powerful to resist.

“Yes,” she squeaks. 

“Imagine my surprise when it’s you,” he continues, tilting his head as he finds her duffel bag on the floor. “The girlfriend.” He spits it like it’s a bad word, and she’s helpless to do anything but watch as he rifles through her belongings, finding her wallet and the stupid photo booth picture of her and Dean she’s kept tucked in there for twenty years.

Can Dean hear her? See her? Is he even aware?

“He’s not,” Michael informs her and she grinds her teeth together, willing him out of her head. He finds that funny, chuckling as he tucks the photo into his pocket. “I should send a message,” he whispers, drifting back towards her. “A way to tell Winchester junior that he’s not going to get anywhere,” his hands lifts and he drags his thumb over her bottom lip, “by following me.”

The pinning warmth of his grace recedes. He knows she’s not strong enough to fight him now, he’s seen every corner of her mind. She doesn’t move when he releases her, remaining on the spot, his fingers curled around her jaw now.

“I could snap your neck right now,” he hums, tracing the line of her cheek with one long finger. “Let Sam know where to find your corpse.”

His hand drops to her chest, sliding against the exposed skin where her stolen flannel is hanging open. It’s warm against her collarbone, and so much like Dean that she feels herself weakening, ready to beg for his life.

“I could keep you,” Michael continues. He’s pressing under her shirt now, his hand is almost right over her heart. “You’d do whatever is necessary to get Dean out of this alive, wouldn’t you?” There’s a lie on the tip of her tongue but she doesn’t let it fall, shaking as his fingers tuck underneath the strap of her bra. “I can see why he enjoys you,” he purrs. “You’re warm and soft.” He’s closer now, his nose pressed to her cheek as he inhales deeply. “He likes the way you smell.”

Please stop. Please stop. She can’t bring herself to voice her plea. If he’s going to kill her, she wants him to get it over with.

“I don’t think I’ll kill you,” he chuckles.

His hand gets warmer, and it doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel good. It’s starting to burn, and she whimpers, trying to pull away.

“Stay still,” he orders, and she can’t help but obey.

The burning gets worse, like it’s reaching into her chest but worse, and she can feel memories slipping from her grasp, stolen away. Each little piece is hacked at, gnawed, burned out of her, and when Micheal finally pulls away, there’s a blank stare on her face.

He’s left a handprint that she’ll forget about in the morning.

“You’re going to sleep now,” he murmurs, the power of his voice just as strong even though he’s stepped away. She blinks three times, and the room is empty, and she doesn’t remember why she was even there in the first place. For a few seconds, she looks around, before a yawn splits her face, so she lies down, drifting off fully-clothed.

When she wakes, it’s daybreak. She packs her bag and checks out, trying to remember why she was even in Bridge Falls. There’s no hunt here, not even a whiff of demonic possession, so she’s back on the road by lunch, pulling into the next store she sees to buy a replacement cellphone. It’s easy to reload the numbers onto it, and almost instantly, she’s barraged by messages.

<<It’s Sam, can you please call me?>>

<<Sam again, just getting worried, it’s been three weeks, can you please call?>>

<<Y/N, please ->>

There’s text messages too, referring to someone called Dean, but she doesn’t know any Sam Winchesters or any Deans. As she’s mulling it over, her phone rings, and she answers, hearing a male voice on the other end.

“Thank god,” he sighs. “I was starting to think you were dead.”

“Who is this?” she demands, frowning at the familiarity in his tone.

He’s obviously surprised by her reaction as he stutters out his name. “It’s Sam, Y/N. Sam Winchester.”

“I think you’ve got the wrong number, dude,” she scoffs and hangs up. He rings twice more, she doesn’t answer and blocks the number.

By nightfall, she’s picked up a case in Lousiana. The odd phone calls have stopped and though it puzzles her, for some reason she doesn’t dwell on it. People are dying, and she’s got a job to do.

Two weeks later, she’s on the trail of a ghoul pack in Minnesota, and she’s stopped for some supplies at a local Walmart. She’s standing in the snack aisle, debating the merits of Cheetos vs Doritos when someone calls her, and at first, she thinks it’s her imagination. It’s repeated, closer, so she turns, raising an eyebrow at the slightly breathless and absolutely gorgeous man standing in front of her.

In the next second, he’s got her arms around her, and she reacts the only way she knows how; she flips him and puts him on his ass, swiftly pulling her gun free from her pants and jamming the muzzle into his chest.

“Who the hell are you?” she demands, and the guy splutters, staring up at her in shock with his hands by his face in surrender.

“Calm down, Y/N!” he stutters out. She narrows her eyes and jabs the gun in harder.

“How do you know my name?”

He seems confused, tilting his head, squinting at her like he needs to double-check what he’s seeing. It’s too familiar, it hurts her head - she pulls away, putting the width of the aisle between them. A security guard appears, giving her a quizzical look. “We all good here?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she snaps back, and he doesn’t seem to particularly care too much, wandering back off to his station.

The guy hasn’t moved from the floor, though he’s lifted himself up onto one elbow, and he’s still staring at her.

“You know me?” she grunts out, retrieving her basket of purchases as he gets to his feet, brushing himself down. His shock seems to have worn off but he’s still giving her a look that makes her feel like he knows her, intimately. The throb in her head becomes a burst of pain, and she hisses, pressing the heel of her palm to the middle of her forehead.

“Hey, you okay?” the man asks, concern in his voice, one hand touching her shoulder.

Someone’s laughing at her, a deep, throaty chuckle, but there’s no one there except her and the guy.

“You know me,” she whispers, blinking at him, and this time it’s a statement, to which he nods, visibly swallowing.

“Let’s get you some air,” he murmurs; she stops him with a hand to his chest.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

He smiles, and it’s a fucking gorgeous smile, reaching right to his eyes. “Dean,” he replies.

There’s a thousand images associated with that name, and it’s too much. He’s got her as far as the salsa aisle, and she’s flagging, the pain in her head like a flood, freezing every muscle, constricting her chest. Dean catches her when she falls, cradling her like he would a lover.

Which is exactly what she was, before Michael stripped away two decades of friendship and their final attempt at something real. He’s given it back to her now, but she’s not gonna be able to do anything. It’s a punishment, for not letting him go.

Dean’s begging, crying her name now - there’s a crowd gathering, none of them willing to approach - and she can feel tears in the corners of her eyes. How the hell could she forget him? Dean’s been the center of her universe for so long, she should have known something was wrong.

He’s crying. This punishment wasn’t just for her. The first thing Dean would do is look for her, and Michael’s just reminding him that he’s never going to be free.

She can’t even get the words out for the pain. 

She wasn’t supposed to go like this.

Her chest slows and stops, and Dean cries harder, cupping her cheek as his tears mingle with hers. Someone’s called an ambulance, they’re on their way, he hears it but he doesn’t really hear anything. He tells her he loves her because it might bring her back, he’s managed bigger miracles before, except her skin’s getting cold already and her eyes don’t see anything.

Sam’s there by the time they’re pronouncing time of death, and Dean’s got one of those stupid foil blankets around his shoulders. The EMT tells him it’s shock, and he’s very sorry for his loss; Dean’s quiet, staring at the covered lump of a body where Y/N used to be.

He doesn’t drive home. He lets Sam take care of him. Stays in his room and looks at the picture he found in the pocket of the tux Michael had been wearing. The photo of them, so long ago, when their friendship was the only thing that got him through. Now he feels like he’s got nothing.

Nothing except revenge.

[nonbino-chaos-fox]

Oki so tell me about this Caleb James thing it looks interesting.

Also, give me some found family headcannons for califormia and Macnamander on the run pls I love them.

I get to ramble about both yay! :D (Sorry for the delay, got caught up in a meeting.)

Also, this is gonna be long so here is your break!

(And trigger warnings for: corrupt government groups; unethical experiments on children; kidnapping; death; mentions of bad family lives; violence;

Okay, gonna start out with the corrupt!peip au because it is the first one I want to talk about rn. (If you want to go straight to Caleb James, there is a marker for where that begins.)

So in the beginning, it is just John, Hannah, and Lex on the run together. At first, Lex really doesn't like John because she is a rebellious teenager and he works for the people who have just been psychologically tormenting her. But Hannah trusts him immediately (also helps that Webby tells her to trust him as well) and eventually Lex starts warming up to him.

During their time together on the run Lex and John form this weird snarky sarcastic father-daughter relationship where like 80% of what they say to each other is sarcasm, but Lex still doesn't fully trust him. Then at one point, they are staying in this small town under fake aliases and on the spot, Lex comes up with a lie that she and Hannah are John's daughters.

Hannah and John also bond a lot because they both have ASD and also John is really good at helping her out when she is having a panic attack. They don't spend a lot of the story directly interacting mainly because Lex is protective and she doesn't trust John at the start, but eventually they spend some time together and he kinda unofficially adopts him.

Then eventually Ethan turns up! Yay! John almost instantly adopts him as his son, and they bond a lot early on over their mutual love of mechanics and working with their hands. I don't have much of a plan for when Ethan arrives. But he probably arrives kinda wounded ('cause running from the government is dangerous) and John helps patch him up which instantly wins a bunch of approval from Lex. (Especially because they had gotten into an argument shortly before Ethan shows up.)

Then after a while (like a solid couple of months for the characters), we finally have the return of Xander! John is overjoyed to see him again and they have a very sweet reunion which is kinda interrupted by peip soldiers trying to kill them... again...

Xander is not really a person who gets along with kids much (social anxiety!Xander my beloved), but he eventually befriends them. Plus, him and Ethan bond over both of them having to go on month-long searches for the people they love.

Also, Xander and Hannah bond over art, because I feel like that, would be adorable and I am a big fan of artist!Xander as well.

So yeah, that is what I have planned for our chaotic weird found family who are on the run from the government.

.

.

Now onto my personal original story:

Caleb James

"My name is Caleb James, I'm seventeen years old, and last week- I died."

I don't quite remember where this opening sentence came to me, but as soon as it did I was immediately hooked to this story that didn't even exist.

This is a story about a teenager who lived in a small town in a small family with a boring life. I mean sure there was always legends of ghosts and ghouls, but what small town doesn't?

His family wasn't anything strange, his dad was the local town pastor, his mum is a stay-at-home mum who sells pyramid schemes to her neighbours and friends, his older sister is a rebellious stoner, his younger brother is the golden child with his entire life planned out ahead of him.

But Caleb's just Caleb. He's the middle child, no expectations, no worries, no controversies, he is a boring kid with nothing important going on.

And then he died, he doesn't quite know how he did, but he's dead and buried. But his soul isn't in heaven or hell- it is in the wheatfields.

A week after he died he woke up in his childhood home all alone, the power still works, but there is no signal or internet and the tv is nothing but static. But there is something strange when he goes outside, his house isn't on the street he's been on for his entire life.

His house is in the middle of endless wheatfields.

He tried going through the wheatfields and it took him all day, but he ended right back up at his house. As if the world was looping on itself with the endless fields.

The story covers him trying to find out where he is, what happened to him, and what the creature in the wheatfields is. It follows both his afterlife in the Wheatfields and his life back when he was alive.

So yeah! Here are my rambles about corrupt!peip and also Caleb James! I really hoped you liked learning about what I have planned out and what these stories have to hold.

[multifandomwriter56]

Mistakes Can Be Forgiven

A/n: This is for @sdavid09​ Tale Teller 2020 Bingo 

Square Filled: Friendship

Summary: Jaskier and Geralt take care of Y/n who decided it was a good idea to get drunk at a marriage ball.

Characters: Geralt, Jaskier, Platonic!Reader

Warnings: language 

Word Count: 883

"Oh, shit."

"Hmm." Geralt's eyes narrow at the young lady across the room.

The young lady he, unfortunately, knows.

Jaskier's mouth drops as Y/n flings herself at some random knight. "She's drunk." He laughs, but quickly stops when his friend turns his glare towards him.

Geralt sighs. This is why he hates coming to these. Y/n may be like a sister to him; but sometimes he thinks he could strangle her.

"We're leaving, bard." He tells his friend as he makes his way to the drunken woman.

Jaskier opens his mouth to object, but the witcher is already too far away to hear him. "Y/n owes me for this." He mutters to himself.

"Aw, come on, Charles. We could have some fun."

"My name is not Charles." The man in the knight armour says.

Geralt gently grabs Y/n's forearm. "Let's go. Y/n. We're leaving."

She yanks her arm out of his grasp. "I don't wanna."

He rolls his eyes. "Come on. You're drunk and harassing random people." He tries to grab her arm again, but Y/n stops his attempt.

"Stop trying to fucking manhandle me." She snaps. "You're not my dad."

Geralt huffs a breath through his nose, trying not to loose his temper. "Y/n, I know I'm not your father. I'm your friend and as your friend, I'm cutting you off-" He takes the almost empty drink out of her hand. "And I'm taking you back to your room at the inn."

"N-"

"Hey Y/n, this marriage ball is boring. I'm going to the inn and getting drunk. Want to come?" Jaskier gives Geralt a 'trust me' look when the witcher looks ready to kill him before focusing back on his other friend.

Y/n smiles at the bard, clearly liking his idea. When she nods her head, Jaskier offers his arm and the two head for the doors; a slightly mollified witcher following behind them.

It only takes the two men an hour to get Y/n to her room. Thankfully she had forgotten about Jaskier's offer when they reached the inn.

Geralt was a little concern when she went from snapping at him to apologizing for every little thing.

Y/n may be in her late twenties, but anytime she bites her lower lip and looks up at him with her big doe eyes; he swears he sees the young girl he saved all those years ago. And just like then, he swears to himself he will protect her at all costs.

Even when he has to protect her from herself.

Like now. He thinks to himself as he catches her before she falls to the ground and hits her head on the corner of the bed frame.

***

Y/n wakes up with a headache and a queasy stomach to go with it. She groans as she slowly lifts herself up.

"Having any regrets?"

Y/n jumps at the voice, snapping her head to the side of her bed and instantly regrets it when pain flows through her whole body.

"Geralt." She whines. "I don't feel good."

The older man snorts. "No shit, Y/n."

She decides she's not ready to get up yet. So she leans back down, closing her eyes and sighing in satisfaction when the pain subsides. "If you're hear to lecture me, than you should leave. I know I fucked up and I don't need you rubbing it in my face."

Geralt smirks, shaking his head even though she can't see him. "I'm not your father, remember?"

Y/n winces at his remark. She slowly opens her eyes and turns her head so she can see him properly. "I'm sorry, Geralt. I didn't mean that. I know we're family; just not in that way, which I prefer." She assures. "I've just been feeling so useless lately. Ever since you and Jaskier had to save me from those ghouls. I mean, if it was just you, I would still feel bad; but Jaskier was there! If it wasn't for him suggesting us to hide in that pond, I don't know if you would've made it in time."

Geralt nods, letting her know he understands. "Don't underestimate the bard." He reminds her; satisfied when she nods her head back to him. "You made a mistake. We all have. Jaskier and I don't think of you any less than before. You're a great fighter, Y/n. You're still learning and that's normal."

Y/n smiles at the witcher. She bites the inside of her cheek so she doesn't verbally point out that she can easily get him to say more words in five minutes than the total of words he's said in a week to anyone else.

"Thank you, Geralt."

The witcher smiles, standing to his feet. "What are friends for?" He kisses her forehead. "I'll get you some herbs and food."

"Thanks."

"Y/n! You're alive!" Jaskier booms as he lets himself in the room.

The two of them roll their eyes at the happy bard.

"I just heard there's going to be a ceremony for the duke in the next town. I was invited to play a song or two. Isn't that great?"

"Wonderful."

Jaskier ignores the sarcasm laced in her tone. "We should go and cele-"

"No!"

Forevers: @beautycinders​ @desiredposion​

Henry Cavill: @alyxkbrl​

[youralternantpersonality]

Dreams

Seth x Reader: Wanting you

Warning: Breaking fourth wall. Let me know if you catch it 😉 and gender-neutral parental names

Part 1: “Dreams” by Ella Eyre

Part 2: “You’ve Got It Bad” by Usher

Part 3: “Never Give Up on Love” by Bobby Tinsley

***

Y/n POV

“Will that be all for you?” I say, finishing up writing down the order.

“Well, I could get your number, beautiful.” One thing that is horrible about being a waitress is dealing with the harassment that comes with it. The best way to deal with verbal harassment (like in this situation) is by giving them the “AS,” as my friends would call it. The Awkward Stare. Now, this stare isn’t having ME become awkward; oh no, this is to make sure THEY do. Essentially, you would look at the predator straight in the eyes and give a resting bitch face until they become uncomfortable and silent. To the point where the whole table is uncomfortable. Kind of like your high school teacher would look at the student when no one would shut up. Once they were fully engaged in avoiding my eyes, I gave a final smile and went put in their order at the counter.

“You know, you could be a little less cute and more intimidating?” said Orion, my now lifetime best friend since I had started this job a couple of months ago. I turn to look at him and give him the finger as he walked around me to bring his tables their food.

“He does have a point. Straighten up your back more, pull your shoulders back, and clock your head to the side just a little. That way, you’ll really knock them.” Emily said. She was a regular here. Every Wednesday at 4 pm and Sunday at 12:30 pm, she would come in, go to her usual spot at the counter, and either order the chiefs salad with a side of a sliced pickle, the garden burger with seasoned fries, or 5 stack pancake with orange/apple juice. Her husband Sam or another kid named Jared and his girlfriend Kim come on Sunday morning, grabbing a crap ton of food (so Emily doesn’t have to cook) and leave. Polite men, scary—at least Sam can be, but polite. Jared is just a child, and I can do nothing but pray for Kim.

“You mean like that ugly pink toad lady from-”

“Don’t say it!” I roll my eyes. Ever since KJ Bowling expressed her feelings towards the LGBTQA+ community, she refuses to acknowledge it. The disbelief and sadness that took over for the love of Henry Planter she had were wild, yet kind of crazy to watch.

“Look, it could be worse. You could love the Dawn saga by Tephanie Neyer and find out that she is horrid in disguise. But hey! Once it hit 2 years, you’ll start realizing all the fucked-up shit in the series and slowly be okay. Dawn fans know Tephanie is fucked up, we know the series is fucked up, we acknowledge it all and take full responsibility for liking it, but some still like it. We don’t support it, but we like it.” I tell her, shrugging my shoulders. I have to remember, she’s a rookie in this game.

“That’s true. Why are the best authors the most fucked up?” she says, playing with her fries I just placed down in front of her.

“Because they hate us and know what the population likes. Just like politics.” I say, stealing one of her fries.

“I don’t know how you guys like that series! Wasn’t there racism, classism with the Ghoul’s and Werecats, hyper-sexualization on the prides where the cats came from, misinformed information, plagiarism, and too, I don’t know, squishy and fluffy in them?” Orion asked.

“First off, they were shapeshifters. Secondly, only in Dawn, Dusk, and Night were squishy. But only because Bethany and Elliot were on their honeymoon in the last one. Daytime didn’t have it because Elliot broke up with Bethany.” I nod in agreement while grabbing the food for my tables.

“I thought their name was Ben and Evy?”

“No, that’s the gender swap version,” I say, walking away with the food. I place the food down at one table and refill drinks to another; some of the reservation guys come in. Seth, Embry, Jake, and Quil. I look over to Orion to call him for his table, but it looks like he and Emily are in a heated discussion about the book series. So, I take over for him. As I walked over to the table, I made eye contact with Seth, and my stomach flipped.

Why you in my dreams? Don't know much about you But I heard about you for the longest time And I see you 'round whenever I go out With some friends of mine And I remember when I saw you standing in a different light It's funny where my mind goes when I'm in my bed at night though

As I lay in bed, I notice that my feelings become stronger and stronger for him almost every time I see him. He was a few inches shorter than me, cheerier, and lanky. I always saw Seth and his friends, but out of nowhere, these…flutters? Feelings? Emotions I don’t like started eating me up every time I see him. I know it might be a crush, I won’t even deny that, but…why?

I toss and turn that night and eventually give up on trying to sleep and just stare at the ceiling, thinking of him. Confused and resistant to even wanting to think about it. The last thing I need is to be in a relationship while in my fucked situation as is. I don’t need my guardians knowing anything about Seth either.

But then again, just like evil authors, life fucks us all over, and you can help but go along with it. Well, unless you sue them. Then that’s different.

'Cause I push you away in real life You ain't even close to my type But when I'm sleeping Everything's upside down, upside down, yeah I saw you last night in my, my dreams It felt so beautiful, I almost believed We were a thing and I liked it I never looked at you like this Till I saw you last night in my, my dreams Why you in my dreams? (Why you in my? Why you in my?) Why you in my dreams? (Why you in my? Why you in my mind?) Seth POV

I saw her again today. She was walking down the hallway with Orion and Kayla to gym class, and we made slight eye contact before Jake decided to take my attention away from her. I look at him, but I don’t really pay attention to him. I don’t know when it happened, but I have always loved Y/n. When she transferred here in middle school, she was cute, shy, and had (and still has) a babyface.

I could never talk to her. Every time I was around her, I’d get so scared and freeze up. And although we’re in high school, I still can’t control it. Lately, my feelings have been getting stronger. Not just with her, but in general. I don’t know what it is, but it’s taking a lot more of my energy trying to control myself. Leah and mom have noticed it too. But Embry was the worst. Speaking of which,

“Hey, where’s Embry?” Quil and Jake looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

“But did you hear a word I said?”

“Obviously not. He was too busy gawking at Y/n.” Quil said, laughing. I rolled my eyes and walked away. Ass-whores.

After school, we head to the diner and, like always and on cue, Jake and Quil make fun of me because Y/n works there. I roll my eyes at them and attempt to push them off me without smiling, but I can’t help it; they’re stupid. It’s not their fault.

Fell asleep at nine And once I closed my eyes, girl, you were so, so mine We laid in the dark, you left in morning light But, girl, it felt so right And if it's in our minds then we should make it life Girl, I mean real, real life Nothing's never for ya We were all and over for ya 'Cause I push you away in real life You ain't even close to my type But when I'm sleeping Everything's upside down, upside down, yeah I saw you last night in my, my dreams It felt so beautiful, I almost believed We were a thing and I liked it I never looked at you like this Till I saw you last night in my, my dreams

That night I quickly dreamed of her without even having to try to at this point. Every time I want to or attempt to talk, I freeze. Thinking about her just makes me feel…warm. Her beautiful y/e/c eyes are captivating. They’ll draw you in, and once you’re in, you’re stuck. Her y/h/(L/C/T) hair embraces and defines her facial features.

The dream always starts out the same. I’m running through the forest at a high fast pace towards a place that always ends up being her home. I follow around the house to her room on the left side of the house towards the forest. As I look at her window, I see her sitting at the window seal and we instantly make eye contact. My heart stops for a second—she smiles and I walk up to her window to come inside. She doesn’t open the window. She places her hand on the window and my much larger now hands cover hers. We look at one another and smile.

I’m not bothered by her not opening the window. I’m just happy she isn’t freaked out about my presence. Unfortunately, every time she goes to open the window, my alarm wakes me up. And when I mean alarm, I mean Leah.

I groan and curse her and the need to wake me up so early. As I get ready, I think of Y/n and I can’t help but smile. Today’s going be a good day.

Why you in my dreams? (Why you in my? Why you in my?) Why you in my dreams? (Why you in my? Why you in my mind?) Y/n POV

The weekend comes and I’m heading in for my shift Sunday morning. I usually wouldn’t work weekends, but that was before I met Emily. I have Friday and Saturday off instead. It’s eight in the morning and Kayla, two of the cooks, and I all pile in before we open at nine. By 9:30, a few families start piling in and by 10, we have the food catered to Sam or Jared ready.

“Hey, Kim!” I wave to her as she walks into the diner. She waves back and heads to the counter. After setting up my table, I head over to the food and help her pack it up in the truck.

“I see you guys ordered more food than usual. Did more family members move into the area?” I say, passing her the multiple trays from the cart to the car.

“Yeah…something like that,” she laughs it off, “but rest assure, this will be gone within the next 45 minutes…maybe sooner.” I laugh with her. I believe her 100 percent. After seeing Jared and Sam, I already know their family that Kim describes them to be, is just as big, if not larger, then this food should hold them off for 2 hours. Maybe.

“Well, that’s all of them: drive safe, Hun. And stop by sometime after school. You’ll miss the adventures of Orion and Emily arguing over pink and rose gold.”

“Aren’t they different?” I nod my head. “But they’ll argue over that?” I nod my head again. She shakes her head and smiles. “Em usually starts it?”

“Sometimes. Only when she needs a good laugh or when she just feels like fucking with him. Last week they were in a heated discussion about the Dusk saga.”

“Oh, dear god! She told me about that. I can’t believe she went that deep into it with him.” Kim laughs.

“I know. That’s probably the only time they’re not being repelling off the same topic. Normally one would disagree for the fuck of it, but they put their fuckery aside and agreed to agree on that topic.” We both laugh. I finish up my conversation with Kim and head inside.

If I gotta fall asleep, sleep to see ya Then I'm gonna fall asleep, sleep to see ya It's different in the daylight Miss you, I dunno know why If I gotta fall asleep, sleep to see ya Let me fall, fall deep, deep to see ya It's different in the daylight See you in a new light 'Cause I push you away in real life You ain't even close to my type But when I'm sleeping Everything's upside down, upside down, yeah

I wave bye to Em, and Orion comes in. I clock out for my break and go sit in one of the booths in the back. As I am prepping my garden burger with ketchup, I think back to my dream I had last night. This one was recently new, confusing, but knew. I take a much-needed bite of my food and relax for the next 15 minutes.

I just got done with my daily nighttime routine, unable to sleep due to Taylor and Kennedy arguing, I go to my window and look outside. I look up at the sky and just drift off into a world of daydreaming until something catches my eye in the bestrew of trees next to my house. As I continue to look, I see big brown eyes of an animal. I smile and the animal walks out of the trees slowly and morphs into Seth. I smile brighter as he comes closer and closer to me. By the time he reaches me, I can feel myself become excited and full of glow, happiness, and this sensation of warmth.

He steps up to the window and smiles down at me. I place my hand on the cold glass and he looks down at my hand and does the same. I can feel the heat radiating from his skin, which only makes me smile more. I unlock the window and just as I am about to open it, my alarm wakes me up.

I’ve been stuck on this for so long that Orion had to shake me out of my daydream. I put my food aside for later and went back to work. I’ll just deal with the dream another time.

I saw you last night in my, my dreams It felt so beautiful, I almost believed We were a thing and I liked it I never looked at you like this Till I saw you last night in my, my dreams Why you in my dreams? (Why you in my? Why you in my?) Why you in my dreams? (Why you in my? Why you in my mind?)

MasterList

[swissthot]

The Reunion

A pure fluff fic of the band returning from tour. Swiss is readers best friend and Rain is readers s/o.

For @namelessghoulie It was supposed to be just Rain but I put your two favs in just because I love you so much 🖤🖤🖤

It's finally here. Copia and his Ghouls are returning from their latest tour. Today was the day.

They'd been sorely missed by the Congregation and you had tossed and turned all night unable to sleep due to the excitement. You were finally going to see your newest Papa and his ghouls. You couldn't wait to see your best friend Swiss and of course the Ghoulettes. But most of all, you were thrilled that you were going to see your Water Ghoul after what had seemed like forever apart.

You'd spoken on the phone with Rain most days while he was away and video called a few times too, he'd even sent you a few letters along with small trinkets from different places he had been with the band. Now you were running down the stairs towards the front of the Abbey to join the Congregation waiting to welcome the band home. As you hurried on your way, you began to hear the murmuring of the crowd that was beginning to assemble in the entrance to the Abbey.

Once you reached the end of the stairs you saw the mass of people that had gathered. The great entrance doors were thrown wide open and people were spilling out of the doorway into the courtyard in front of the Chapel. Weaving through the crowd you made your way through the doors and claimed a spot to the left of the entrance where you would have a clear view of the driveway.

You nervously tapped your fingers against your thigh as you waited, it was a long time coming and now that it was almost time the anticipation was killing you. Just when you started to bounce from one foot to the other you heard the crunching of tyres on gravel. Your eyes snapped up to see three sleek black cars coming down the driveway towards you. Behind you a chorus of "they're here" and "look they're coming" started to echo out and other Siblings started to surge forward in hopes of getting a better view. You held your ground against the crowd and as the cars came to a stop in front of the Abbey, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Cheers rang out around you as a Ghoul opened the rear door of the first car and the newly appointed Papa Emeritus IV stepped out. Resplendent in his new Papal vestments and skull paint, he paused to take in the crowd gathered to welcome him back to the Abbey. You were captivated by his bejeweled Mitre and your eyes followed him as he started to make his way through his flock of Siblings and up the steps towards the Chapel. You were so focused on Papa that you completely missed someone calling your name out behind you.

You startled when a hand came to rest on your shoulder and another was held gently across your eyes blocking your view of Papa Emeritus IV.

"Guess who, love." a deep voice laced with mirth rumbled into your ear.

"You know what, I haven't got a clue." you teased, knowing exactly who it was.

"Hmm are you sure about that?" he asked as his hand slipped from your shoulder to tickle at your ribs. You were instantly squirming away from your attacker but he held you firm as he continued his assault on your ribs.

"How about now?"

"Okay okay! Swiss please stop!" you gasped for breath as the Ghoul let go of you just to turn you around and bundle you up into an enormous hug. He brought his face level with yours as he set you down. His deep golden eyes seemed to be sparkling and you could see the fanged, toothy grin behind his mask as well.

"I missed you, love. Touring gets boring when I haven't got you to tease. Oh and don't even get me started on your Rainey boy! He's been pining for you the whole time! I've got so much to tell you, and some juicy gossip too! But that can wait till you've seen Rain, judging by the looks of him he's about to run over here and steal you away all to himself." His eyes flicked over your shoulder as he spoke and his forked tongue poked out of his mouth and waggled at whoever he was looking at.

Just as you were about to follow Swiss' gaze, his arms came around you once more and he held onto you tight as he spun you both around in a circle. Your laughter rang out together and your arms wrapped around his neck as you realised how much you'd missed Swiss. His chaotic energy was infectious and he never failed to put a smile on your face. You were well aware of the attention Swiss was drawing to you but you couldn't care less right now, your favourite people were back at the Abbey and you were finally going to be able to spend time together again.

"Swiss put me down I'm getting dizzy!" you squealed as he seemed to speed up his spinning. You squeezed your eyes shut as the blur of your surroundings started to affect you. Tightening your arms around his neck so you didn't slip, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, the fabric of his jacket soft against your cheek and the scent that you could only describe as unmistakably Swiss caught your senses.

He set you down just as gently as the first time, his strong hands coming to hold your waist as you swayed about slightly.

"Come find me later, I've got a tour present for you and we can catch up. Now you'd better go, Rain is giving me the stink eye for monopolising all your attention."

You held onto his arms until you stopped swaying and your head stopped spinning. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself by falling over on your way to Rain.

"I'm so glad you're back, Swiss. It's been too quiet without you causing trouble around the Abbey. Although I think Sister Imperator has enjoyed the break from yours and Dewdrop's mischief." You grinned at him as you spoke knowing that the Sister was soon going to have her hands full of rowdy band Ghouls once more."I'll see you later, okay? I know he's waiting for me." You gave him one more soft smile before turning to find Rain.

You spotted him leant up against one of the cars the band had arrived in. He was all long legs and easy elegance as he waited. Rain's eyes were cast down to the ground as he was seemingly fixated on the gravel he was moving around under his boot. You immediately felt a pang of guilt as you watched him, feeling bad for being so completely focused on Swiss.

He must have felt your gaze on him because his eyes quickly darted to lock with yours. Even from this distance you could see the soft yellows and golds of his honey coloured eyes sparkling in the sunlight. You stayed like that for several moments, just waiting, staring at each other. Seeing who was going to make the first move. You hadn't realised until you felt his hand give you a gentle push that Swiss was still behind you. But it was all you needed to get you moving towards your Water Ghoul.

Your feet quickly picked up into a run and before you knew it Rain was pushing himself away from the car and you slammed into him, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you possibly could. He'd been away so long and yet you still fit together perfectly. With your cheek against his chest you could hear his thundering heart beat.

"I missed you." he whispered into your ear before tucking his head into the crook of your neck and deeply breathing in your scent. It was so comforting and familiar to him and you could feel some of the tension leave his body as he held you even tighter. You could have stood like that forever, wrapped up in his embrace, one of the only places you ever felt truly at peace but it seemed Rain had other ideas.

He pulled back from your embrace and though you were sad to lose his touch it was easily made up in the way he was gazing so lovingly at you.

"I have something for you." Your Ghoul reached into the inner pocket of his jacket as he spoke and took hold of your hand in his free hand. Carefully he placed your present into your waiting palm. Two fairly large pieces of perfectly smooth sea glass. One was blue and the other honey coloured. They were almost a near perfect match for his changeable eye colour.

"I found them on the beach in Mexico, after our final ritual. I thought we could add them onto your necklace together, if you'd like that?" Rain spoke shyly, almost as if he was certain you'd reject the idea. You could just imagine the blush on his cheeks under his mask as he looked at you waiting for your answer.

"I'd love that, Rain." You ran your fingers over the glass as you spoke, your voice catching slightly in your throat. You knew you were so incredibly lucky to call this Ghoul your own. Before you could do anything to stop it you were crying.

"Hey why are you crying?" He asked, the concern plain his eyes.

"It's okay, they're happy tears. I just missed you so much, I'm so glad you're home."

"So am I," His hand came up to hold your cheek as his thumb wiped away one of your tears. His eyes were soft and his voice was gentle as he spoke, "Home is wherever you are."

You took his hand and laced your fingers together as you headed towards the dorms. Your Ghoul was home, and hopefully he wouldn't be going anywhere for a long while yet.

[mhdiaries]

Diary of Kieran Valentine

You’ll steal my heart if you read my diary.

May 1st

When I left Monster High after Draculaura’s Sweet 1,600 birthday party, I was angry, humiliated and stinky from falling into that pit of eternal body odor. I stank so bad, Mom wouldn’t even let me in the house: I had to sleep in the guest room above the garage. Looking back, I can see it was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. Even my considerable powers to charm were no match for the power of the stench that surrounded me. My powers slowly weakened as I was deprived of what sustained them: the love I selfishly took from others. I was in a stench-induced imprisonment - rarely leaving the garage - but it allowed me time to do some serious thinking, and I realized I wasn’t being true to myself. Then one day there was a knock at my door, and I opened it to see a little old goblin woman with a cane staring up at me through thick glasses. “I’m Mrs. Goblin, but you can call me “Mrs. Goblin.” I’m a friend of your mother’s.” She said, “you need to get out of that room, and I need some help, so let’s go.” She turned and walked off, and, with nothing left to lose, I followed. It turned out that she ran an unwanted-creature shelter and couldn’t keep up with all the cleaning, feeding and daily upkeep. It also turned out that she had no sense of smell. “Lost it back in ‘72,” she told me. Mrs. G. ran me through the daily routines and gave me the tour. “You can start today,” she said as she handed me a mop and a bucket. It’s hard to believe I agreed, but I didn’t have any other options. The shelter was home to an unusual collection of exotic creatures: gremlins, flying monkeys, lap dragons, miniature manticores, and many others that had been picked up as strays or turned in by monsters who didn’t want them. Even though the work was hard, and not always pleasant, I began to look forward to it. In fact, I usually felt more energized after I finished a day than when I started. I felt my powers returning and every day I got stronger. Eventually, I mentioned it to Mrs. Goblin who snickered, “You emotional vampires never get it - stolen love is just empty calories. I’ll never sustain you for long.” She could tell I still didn’t get it. “Love that’s freely given is the most powerful source of energy in the monster universe. You’ve been coming here every day, taking care of these critters, showing them kindness, and the only thing they have to give you is their love - and believe me, they have a lot to give.” I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. I must have been standing there looking stupid because she said, “Close your mouth before the the flies get in and go clean the flying monkey cage. They’ve been throwing stuff again.” I was in a daze. Why had no one ever explained this to me? Rather than dwelling on it, I was just happy I finally knew.

May 3rd

I now know that I did it - stealing love - because I thought that’s want an emotional vampire was supposed to do. But it never felt quite right. I thought if I kept doing it, it would eventually feel right. But it only made me angry and frustrated. Then when Draculaura called me - well, Toralei, really - I thought that if I could get the heart that got away, it would change me and everything would be fine. But I was just a real pain in the fang to everyone and made a fool of myself. So I’ve come to a conclusion: being myself has to be easier than not being myself, right? Back then, I hated the thought of who I really was, and that conflict made me become someone who wasn’t me. It’s time to be true to myself, but it’s scary.

July 1st

Today was my one-year anniversary at the shelter. As I left the garage, I ran into Mom. She sniffed. “You don’t stink anymore.” It was true - the stench was gone. I gave Mom a hug and told her it must be due to what I’d learned from working for Mrs. Goblin. I thanked Mom for telling her I needed help. Mom looked at me strangely, “What are you going on about? I don’t know a Mrs. Goblin.” What? I ran to the shelter but when I got there it was boarded up and empty. How could this be? I crawled through a broken out window. A thick layer of dust covered everything and it looked like no one had been there in years. Then I noticed a piece of paper on the table where Mrs. G. used to sit and drink her tea. It was a not addressed to me:

V,

There’s nothing more I can teach you. The rest will come when you put what you’ve learned into practice. Know that you are loved for what, and who you are.

Sincerely,

“Mrs. Goblin”

P.S. Do the right thing or I’ll come back and make you clean out flying monkey cages again.

July 2nd

I decided that I would try and “do the right thing” by heading back to MH to try and make up for my mistakes. I thought if I hid in the shadows and helped the couples of MH, you know be a Cupid to what was my destruction of love, I could make a difference and they would see that I was a changed monster. Well, my intentions were good, but things did not go as I had planned. I kinda, no, did, mess things up. Luckily, it all seemed to work out in the end, I guess, just not as I had hoped. I don’t think any of Draculaura and her friends will ever really trust me. And while I hope one day they can see I have changed, I know it will take time, too. I guess I can’t expect them to just forgive me right away. I will say one good thing hopefully came out of it. While attempting to hide in the shadows I bumped into a student I didn’t recognize. He said his name was Spelldon Cauldronello, he had only been at MH a couple weeks as he had been traveling with his older sister. Meeting him totally made me space and forget to send a text that was supposed to help Clawd. He asked if I went to MH and I said I was just visiting, but I would love to go to MH one day if I can. He said he’d keep me up on the groanings on around the halls if I wanted, so I gave him my number. At least the trip wasn’t a total stake. I do wish I could figure out how to make it up to Draculaura and her friends though. I know now that real friends help each other with their problems, not try to solve them for them.

July 7th

I was tempted to stay in my room today and treat myself to a monstrous blue funk, but, instead, I walked aimlessly outside until I found myself sitting on the beach watching the sun go down. That’s when I noticed something unusual partially buried in the sand. I pulled it out and die-scovered it was an ornate lantern caked with seaweed. I brushed it off... and got the shock of my unlife! The lantern began vibrating and glowing, like I had awakened something inside and it was not trying to get out. I dropped it like it was hot and fell back as smoke swirled up and out of this thing. When the smoke cleared away there was a ghoul floating above me. “I am the djinni of the lantern. What is your wish?”

July 10th

The djinni’s name is Whisp and we have something in common: the direction of our unlives changed because of Monster High. We shared our stories and struggles; neither of us has made the beast decisions, but we both want to be better monsters. We talked so much that Whisp had to remind me I had three wishes. I asked her I should wish for and she said, “I cannot tell you what to wish for, nor can I tell you what not to wish for, but I can say be scareful what you wish for.” I laughed and told her that sounded ominous. She didn’t see the humor in her statement. “Wishes are tricky things,” she replied, “They often have a mind of their own and don’t always come true in the way you expected.” I thought for a moment, and wish I could go back to Monster High and fix the things I had broken. Whisp rose into the air, her eyes glowing, and said, “As you wish.” Instantly, I was back at Draculaura’s Sweet 1600 party, only I was dressed like a repairman - tool belt and all. Headless Headmistress Bloodgood stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. “You need to repair the barrier around the pit of eternal body odor before another monster falls into it!” This wasn’t what I meant by “fixing what I had broken,” and there was no way I was getting close to that pit again. That’s when the other students saw me. A very large minotaur pointed his finger at me, “There he is again! Throw him back into the pit!” I wished myself out of MH and back in my room just in time to avoid another dunking. Two wishes down, one to go.

July 12th

Whisp has been very apologetic but she needn’t be. I wished for something so general that it could have been granted in numerous ways. What I really wanted was a chance to do something unselfish for the monsters I hurt - to give and not take. When I started working for Mrs. G., there were times I wished what someone else would do the dirty work so I could just play with the creatures. Now I know I just wished it to be easy. Whenever I was in the middle of something particularly loathsome, Mrs. G. would cackle, “Sometimes work stinks, doesn’t it?” The first few times she said it, I wanted to drop everything and go home. But I stuck it out, and, although I still have a long way to go, I’m a better monster for it. Unlife is a lot of work and I guess some problems aren’t meant to be solved by wishing them so. Speaking of wishes, I need to think of something non-ambiguous for the last one...

August 1st

I summoned Whisp today to grant my final wish. I admit I put it off because I was being selfish. I’ve never had a friend like her, and once my last wish is granted, the lantern will move on and I will probably never see her again. I considered freeing her from the lantern, but I don’t think she wants that: she loves being a djinni, appearing in new places and granting wishes. But I know she gets lonely at times, so this was my wish: “Whisp, I wish we could always be friends.” Whisp rose up, her eyes glowing: “As you wish!” I could see her smiling as she turned to smoke and returned to the lantern, which shot up and disappeared. I thought for a second that my wish wasn’t granted, but then my iCoffin lit up and I noticed a new app icon that looked like a little mirror. I tapped it and there was Whisp! Now, not matter where in the monster universe she is, we can talk to each other! “Yes, Mother, I’m talking to myself down here.”

[deerlyloved]

friends of friends

under cut: a long fanfiction about my fallout 3 oc, clyde, and his experiences with trauma after the pitt

The Capital Wasteland was an inhospitable place, one that even the most toughened of people would struggle in. Mountains of concrete left in radiated piles around the once-bustling city meant it was a struggle to get anywhere in the decimated city unless you decide to take your chances with the potential fall, and the people who flooded the streets you could traverse made the fall seem ideal.

The dangers faced when just trying to walk through the Capital Wastes were bad, but when you tried to settle they got worse. Raiders, slavers, radiation, ghouls, or sometimes just plain bad luck… It seemed near impossible to try and live there, the land mostly infertile and the people hostile.

And that’s why Clyde loved it. Just like home, but with way fewer trogs and way more people. Another plus was being able to do whatever the fuck he wanted to with slavers he found and people not care, either way, no praise for being a hero or dirty looks from someone he kept alive as a reminder. Just quiet apathy and blank looks. It was nice.

He kicked a raiders face in one day and the settlers he was bothering said thanks and moved on. He broke another's legs the next and no one mentioned it.

Maybe resorting to violence to get his feelings out without having to address them wasn’t healthy, but he didn’t know that that was what he was doing, so he didn’t care and just kept swinging and shooting to his heart’s content.

The journey from the Pitt to the Capital Wasteland was...hazy to him. He remembered refusing to go back to the steelyard to give her to Wernher, making him come out instead. The days that followed as Midea took charge, forming new systems to make sure everyone was safe, new expansions, new everything still made him feel almost hopeful. He stood next to her with a gun the entire time and damn near snarling at anyone who got too close, same with Marie. Midea was so hopeful, so happy to see a light at the end of the tunnel finally, and it was infectious. Once they had a farm going, they cleared out Haven of food, and once people got something edible in their stomachs?

Clyde had never seen the place so busy. Even when they had slavers breathing down their necks and beating them, when pain and death were reasonable responses to so much as stumbling, they weren’t as busy and motivated as then. Reinforcements were built up in a day or two, the steelyard was cleared in three weeks and lit up in another two with ingots being found much more easily than they ever were when slaves were being thrown in for fun.

It was almost a settlement, somewhere that could turn out to be worth-fucking-while to put effort into, especially once word got out and traders stopped by again.

And that might be why Clyde left. He could remember packing, and then stopping and having to talk himself into telling Midea, saying goodbye before he up and left. It went about as well as he thought it would, Midea clinging to him and his armor and crying, asking him to stay. Marie was too young to understand, so she didn’t cry like Midea or the other newly not-slaves did. Clyde felt a small twinge of guilt, but it was knocked away by his usual state of uncaring that was so ground into him he couldn’t help it.

The walk took a few days, but he just kept going. Only stopping to sleep and take a small break here and there, he walked to the ruined area of DC and then kept going until he found himself near a tall, crumbling building, three-stories high with a gate. He stared for longer than he wanted to admit, realizing he’d been traversing through unknown territory and not even caring for his surroundings until now. He finally noticed the relative chill of the night, feeling that his skin had flushed at the new temperature.

He was so used to the constant heat of the Pitt that he wanted to shiver at the air around him, even though it was more than welcome.

Finally, someone spoke, a woman. She shouted from the second story, half-hidden from behind a ruined window frame. “What’s your business, stranger?”

Clyde didn’t know what to say. He had no idea what his business was, he just didn’t want to be in the Pitt anymore so he walked and walked and ended up here. He opened his mouth to speak, finding the most convenient lie to spout just like he’d been doing since he was 13.

He said he wanted a place to trade and rest his feet, never mind the fact he had nothing to trade and it was obvious. The woman narrowed her eyes, her finger staying on the trigger of the guns he already had readied and trained on Clyde.

“Hannibal says I gotta let folks like you in, but that don’t mean I have to like it.” She shouted back at him. Keep your hands in sight, and don’t make any sudden moves.” Her gone lowered just an inch, and she paused as she scanned Clyde up and down. “I’m coming down to open the gate.”

Clyde went in. The woman, Simone, literally locked him in the building, telling him to go speak with the previously mentioned Hannibal before she talked to him. Once he found out they were all escaped slaves, the woman’s hostility clicked in Clyde’s mind, and he suddenly felt the same protective feelings he had towards his not-slave family for everyone in the building.

Not love, maybe not even a bond, just a need to protect them.

So he left as quickly as he could. He left and just walked the streets of DC, another soul lost in the ruins of a forgotten civilization.

During the months he wondered, he joined a mercenary company. He became the “quiet one”, the “new kid”, and he earned a minor reputation for being reliable. Even with a bullet in his shoulder and blurred vision, he would make sure every last feral ghoul in the area was dead before he paused to take care of himself.

Something he still looked back on with confusion and wonder is how he found the time to revisit the Pitt, and by extent, the people there. He would never understand why he let himself go back, or why he even wanted to in the first place, but he found himself at the gates one day, a bag full of toy cars and teddy bears for Marie.

The first time he had ever done that, Midea had nearly tackled him with the hug she gave him, and she made sure Wenher had brought Marie out to see him as well. He stayed for a week or so before he decided it was time to head back to the Capital Wastes.

Clyde never cared for the people he traveled with, barely caring to learn their name, but he found himself passing through the streets of DC one particular night, following behind a pack brahmin weighed down with scrap metal and junk.

In the distance, he saw it, shining lights from a crumbling building being patched up with plywood and scrap metal. He raised his gun as they approached, as did the rest of the guards, but the closer the more they realized what they were approaching.

The Temple of the Union had expanded and moved to a more reasonable state of living. The Lincoln Memorial now housed them, the walls that had been torn down through years of abuse and neglect now patched up with wood, stone, and lots of hard work. It had become a central part of the Capital Wasteland, a beacon of hope for some people and an intimidating force for others.

The caravan he guarded stopped to trade and rest their feet for the night, and Clyde found himself at the end of the stairs with a stabbing in his chest keeping him from walking too far up. A woman shouted down at him after a few minutes of him standing around kicking his feet, almost mockingly, “What’s your business, stranger?”

Clyde felt just a tiny bit better as he met the gaze of Simone, who walked down with her gun in her hands and a smirk on her face. “Long time no see.”

Simone coerced him up the stairs with promises of ammo and extra water, and Clyde was almost instantly bombarded with quiet cheers from the slaves he once knew when he stumbled across the Temple of the Union months ago.

When morning came, Clyde didn’t follow the caravan out. He handed the man his caps back and went back to the room he had been sitting in all night. It felt… right to be here. For once, something felt right to him, not almost-right where he was walking on eggshells trying to find a place to sit. So he stayed. He stayed until a woman named Rosie Red came marching into the Lincoln Memorial like she owned the place, a woman with a deactivated slave collar trailing behind her with knives attached to her belt and a smirk on her face.

He stayed until Rosie looked at him, asked him how much his contract was, and bought him out for the year. Then, he followed Rosie around, not that she went far.

She boasted herself as an old assassin, a black widow in the wasteland that took down scummy men to make sure they never hurt another person. She’d quickly add “well... women too…” and wink at her partner, Clover. Rosie went on and on about how she had a reputation, and when Clyde asked around it was confirmed that she did. A few people even said that Rosie had been the one that freed them in the first place, killing their masters, buying them and turning them loose, or just doing something as simple as opening a gate.

Clyde didn’t trust her, contract or not, and he always made sure to keep a closer eye on her than was necessary.

The Union had grown so much, and after Clyde had his week in the Memorial, he considered leaving just as he had with the Pitt. The prosperity was too much for him, it almost reminded him of Haven when he was young. Every small, innocent interaction was painted dark, the heat of the Pitt finding him even in the coolness of DC as Clyde watched two raiders exchange cigarettes before turning back into the good-hearted ex-slaves on the stairs they were.

It’s like he was being haunted, even small things pulling him back however far into his past it wanted him to go. One of the slaves had a baby when she came in, and he had to cup his ears so he’d stop picturing Marie in her crib, confused and whining as he killed her mother just feet from her.

He tried to leave after that, standing and grabbing his bag, packed and ready to go like always. He went for the stairs, the chill seeping into his bones and his ears still ringing from the sound of the whining baby, trying to walk down without drawing too much attention to himself and failing miserably evidently.

His arm was grabbed, and Clyde whirled around and reared back to hit whoever it was that grabbed him, only to come face to face with the aged face of Hamilton. The man gave him a solemn look, lips pursed into a fine line. The air between them was still, the city seemed to go quiet for a few moments as they stared at each other, Clyde blankly and Hamilton ever-so disappointedly.

“Just promise to take care of yourself.”

Clyde almost grimaced at the words, but years of training had made sure he didn’t, and he just stared, moving from Hamiltons grasp as he continued off down the stairs after the look grew too much for him to bear. The feeling followed him, and all Clyde could feel as he stared down the decrepit streets of DC was those eyes on his back, watching, waiting, disappointed.

He stopped just at the bottom of the steps, some ache in his chest keeping him from walking any further as he stared into the night. He thought, and thought, and then he couldn’t stand thinking anymore so he sat on the bottom steps, eyes sliding shut and his head in his hands.

Clyde didn’t want to be Clyde. He didn’t want to be a weapon, or a monster, or a hero, he just wanted to not be anything. Maybe he wanted to be dead. Just the product of some asshole in power armor thinking torturing a child was the way to a new, better world. Just a weapon, a weapon always, what more was he good at? Any ability to decide who he was wiped clean long ago-- He couldn’t even remember who he was. Was Clyde even his goddamn name?

He sat on the stairs, trying not to curl in on himself, just trying to find some semblance of calm in the rushing thoughts in his head. He knew he was alone once the hairs on the back of his neck stopped standing, and all he could do was think.

Clyde sat for what seemed like hours in the moonlight, thinking but not really having many thoughts besides “Oh God, what have you gotten yourself into?” and “You have a job, finish it.”

His head snapped towards someone sitting next to him, and he saw the fair face of Rosie Red. She leaned back on the step behind her, her legs stretching out in front of her as she looked towards the sky. Even at night, she was wearing red lipstick, her hair a mess and a look of knowing on her face. He stared, suspicion creeping back on him as he stared. What did she want? He said nothing, knowing better than to speak up against his boss, but his face gave it all away.

“You don’t have to finish out your contract, but I would have appreciated a warning, kid.” She said softly, eyebrows knitting together in worry for a split second before her entire face relaxed again. “If you want to go, you can. Just be safe, alright? It’s a dangerous world out there.”

“I owe you a few more months of work, I will give you them.” Clyde replied, looking down towards the pavement between his feet.

“But you don’t want to.” Rosie retorted.

“I owe you a few more months of work--”

“What do you want, Clyde? Do you know?”

“I will give you them.”

Rosie sighed deeply, her eyes sliding shut. “You remind me of Clover.” She murmured, going silent for nearly a minute until she spoke again, “Well, kid… If you want to stay, then stay. If you want to go… Ask yourself why.”

Rosie then stood, smiling down at the man before she turned and walked back up the stairs, where Clover was waiting tiredly by the entrance to the memorial.

No point in questioning your boss.

A loud clattering noise snapped Clyde out of his reminiscing, and his eyes snapped to the caps spread across the floor and the man cursing as he picked them up. Bottlecap, of course. He was the person that was best with numbers, so he was put in charge of the money by Hamilton.

Clyde watched stoically as Bottlecap knelt down, gathering the caps back into the cloth sack they had spilled from with more grumbles and complaints, though he shooed away those who attempted to help. Ever protective of the job he was given, just like the rest of them. Regardless of how much you disconnect yourself from your history, the habits you form never leave, it’s why Clyde was a mercenary, why Bottlecap looked up terrified when the woman tried to help him gather the caps he’d spilled, and it’s why that woman flinched when Bottlecap told her to leave.

He had decided to stay a year ago, though he didn’t understand why even now. He didn’t think it mattered, though, as long as he was here, employed by a woman who deserved his protection, he didn’t feel bad. Rosie let him make a trip every few months to the Pitt, though she didn’t know that’s where he went, no one did. Clyde tried his best to make sure no one knew he came from the Pitt, an act of protection in his mind.

The DC chill still bothered him, even now as he was comfortably cool, and he felt the need to just stop patching his armor halfway through to have the extra layer on. He’d ditched the cracked leather years ago, now in comfortable metal pieces that he constantly took care of, always remembering the time he spent in the steelyard with nothing between him and the snapping jaws of the trogs but cloth.

He was ever grateful for metal armor.

Sun shone in through the holes in the walls of the memorial, and Clyde focused his attention back on his armor, finally going over the last few pieces with careful eyes before he put it all back on, standing and looking around the room with a long, slow glance as he moved for the door. Bottlecap had gathered the last of the caps he’d dropped and had moved on to wherever he was going, and the room was filled with a relative silence once more save for the quiet murmurs from people too far for Clyde to hear clearly.

He walked out the door, grimacing at the sunlight that hit his eyes and blinded him for a short moment before he finally adjusted, looking around the area. A farm had been set up in the mangled debris, encircled with its own fences, gates, and guards like it was the most precious thing in the world.

He turned his head to clance at the top of the memorial, seeing a chair set up next to a crate with Nuka Cola bottles covering it, and a small, blonde woman positioned just next to it. She had her hand on a sniper rifle next to her, her legs dangling freely over the ledge of the Memorial in a way that just taunted fate. She saw Clyde looking and raised her hand to wave before she leaned back and grabbed a half-full Nuka Cola.

Everything was exactly as it should be. Clyde had grown used to the relative peace the Temple of the Union held, though the urge to flee bubbled up nearly every day-- he always ignored it, thankfully. At this point, if he took off, Rosie would hunt him down just to scold him for worrying her.

He moved to one of the pillars that held the Memorial up, leaning against it and looking out onto the street. Junk walls had been put up in an attempt to fortify the Memorial, and they worked rather effectively. Made of metal and welded together, it was hard to get past the wall without Liberty taking you out first, and Clyde liked to think he was support. Anyone who got past the walls, whether by pure skill or blind luck, didn’t make it any further thanks to him and his gun.

Just as the relative peace found him and his thoughts, it was gone.

A bullet lodging it’s way in the pillar Clyde stood on snapped his attention towards the road, scanning the little road he could see just above the walls for any sign of movement. He heart Liberty scurry above, knocking off dust and pebbles as she readied herself to shoot.

He saw nothing, and since Liberty wasn’t firing, she saw nothing. The workers outside all went quiet, most freezing in place as they looked towards the gate, others moving slowly towards the Memorial to take cover.

And finally, Clyde saw movement, but Liberty saw it first, and the person moving just outside the gates was shot down before they got any closer. Clyde hated to say it, hated to even think it, but he knew the armor, even though he just barely saw it. His feet were moving before he even realized, and he found himself at the gate, peering out of it with narrowed eyes to see a raider-- no, a slaver-- on the ground with blood beginning to pool. He had no gun.

“Ah shit.” Clyde murmured, spinning around and motioning for those outside to take cover, looking over his shoulder out the slot in the gate again. 

“Here we fuckin’ go.”

[tiaragqueen]

Tatara (Tokyo Ghoul) x shy female s/o ☺️ thanks

Guerdon

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Tatara x Chi She Lian clansman! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,2k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Isolation, manipulation, mention of death, possessiveness

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

I know I'm very late, and it's already the end of the month, but let's just pretend today's Valentine for the sake of the plot.

“I could tell you lots of things, they're gonna turn out useless. Sometimes you need to challenge your questions. You don't need to know everything.” - You Don’t Need To Know [Excuse Me Moses]

Tatara was among those people who couldn’t find the importance of Valentine day. He believed it was just a waste of time and money, because why would you present your loved ones chocolates and roses only during Valentine? What happened to surprising them on ‘normal’ days? Wouldn’t the gifts be much more memorable if they were given randomly, when your partners least expected it?

Excluding that pointless and totally unnecessary day, Tatara had never cared much about dating, anyway. As far as he was concerned, having a lover only brought more problems than benefits due to many factors: his nature, the unremitting threats from the CCG and other petty ghouls, the organization he participated in, and the inevitable tragedy. Sure, he wasn’t a workaholic, but he deemed his organization and its objective more important than anything else. Thus, splitting his time – especially for the sake of someone else – would be challenging.

Besides, Tatara was already content with his life. As long as he still had his brother and other members whom he secretly cherished, Tatara wouldn’t complain much.

That was years ago, though. A lot of things had changed since then, including his love life.

Frankly, you weren’t his girlfriend. You were just a member of Chi She Lian; one that he’d never really conversed with, let alone dated. You both had missions to do, and you both had stark differences in statuses. You were far from weak, though, and Tatara had heard some kind words from Yan regarding your proficiency.

However, nobody was perfect. You were shy, so painfully shy you couldn’t keep eye contact with anyone – particularly the higher ones – for more than three seconds. Tatara didn’t mind it, of course. It just proved that you were aware of your place and respect the superiors.

Before long, fate brought the unlikely pair closer than he’d expected.

A CCG investigator managed to locate his organization and eliminated nearly the majority of its members, forcing him to bring you along to Japan for a hideout. You initially refused, insisting on fighting the damned man, until Tatara knocked you out. It was a rather extreme method, but he knew better than to let you contend senselessly to death. An opportunity for revenge would surely come soon and he needed you to be on your best behavior.

But after joining Aogiri Tree and seeing its vast influence to the Japanese ghouls, Tatara realized that he’d gotten a lot stronger than before. He was certain he could easily take down that bastard without your assistance or anyone else in that matter.

No, as the other survivor, it was better for you to remain ignorant.

He didn’t want to admit that he feared your death someday, and how lonely his life would be without you. Eto might be his new leader, but she wasn’t a part of Chi She Lian. She didn’t belong to, nor did she come from his past the same way you did.

That was why he resolved to isolate you in some derelict apartment, although his original purpose was to deflect the enemies' attention.

And it worked more than he’d expected.

You’d gradually learned to crawl out of that poky shell and engaged in a small talk, mainly consisting of his condition and missions. You’d also begun to grow more attentive to his mood and always tried to help him whenever and however you could, even offering a sliver of your flesh when he lied about being hungry. And you did it all with a smile, gleaming eyes void of malice or reluctance.

It was such a heartwarming yet fragile view; one that would surely shatter to thousand pieces if you were to learn about the truth. Tatara almost felt bad for lying to you.

Regardless, he wasn’t completely frigid. He knew how to reward someone, even if it was exclusive to you.

And Eto just had to suggest a present for Valentine day, because it was the most ‘romantic’ event aside from Christmas. Tatara couldn’t understand how an ordinary day could be any more romantic than the others, but as long you got the gift, it didn’t really matter what event today was.

“[Name].”

To say that he felt awkward would be a huge understatement. How could he not? This was the first time he ever gifted someone, and to a woman nonetheless. He didn’t display his discomfort, obviously, instead shoving the present on to your hands as if it was a ticking time bomb.

“Open it.” he ordered simply, coolly because he couldn’t afford to lose his composure in front of you.

You reeled back in surprise and stared at him for further clarification. When he remained mute, you looked down and inspected the heart shaped box. Was this… what you thought it was? You’d assumed he wasn’t the type to celebrate such event – being a busybody he was – and you didn’t truly notice it, either. It was simply a special occasion meant for couples, created by those sentimental humans.

Still, it was nice to receive something once in a while.

Gingerly, you tore the dark pink ribbon and its matching wrapper and peeked in. A choked gasp left your agape mouth as you swiftly opened the lid and found several – and literal – hearts placed in such a way until they formed a heart shape. In lieu of ketchup, blood garnished the ‘candy’ equivalence like crimson strings connecting and binding the hearts together. You wondered if they were meant to represent your past in Chi She Lian, with the first two organs being you and Tatara as the survivors.

But that would be a crazy idea, wouldn’t it?

“This…” Had you were a human, you’d instantly throw the box away the second you sniffed a particular stench. For you, the ghoul, it was the best gift you’d ever gotten in your entire life. “This is amazing! T-thank you so much. You shouldn’t have to…”

“Nonsense.” he retorted. “I didn’t give it to you so you could pity yourself.”

You squeaked. “I-I’m so sorry!”

Sighing, Tatara stepped forward and squeezed your shoulder. It was a subtle and harmless action, but you knew he could crush the bone underneath if he so wished.

If the time when you’d no longer be needed came…

"Keep up the good work.”

… that gentle touch would be the last affection you’d felt from anyone.

Or him, because he was the only person you met every day.

Sparkles waned from your eyes as you bowed, clenching the box to keep the tears at bay. It didn’t matter if today was Valentine, you couldn’t feel anything else other than compliance.

And the reward on your hands was just a rock meant to deter you from leaving.

“Yes, Tatara.”