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#just letting the world know that happened
mwagneto · 1 day
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hungarian/nomadic magyar tumblr circa 998AD dashboard simulator
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🏞️ vándor-ló-979 Follow
not yall still spreading emese's foundation myth??? she literally claims she fucked a bird????? like either she's lying or she cheated and she's trying to cover it up or well. i dont even want to consider the third option
🪺 magánügyek Follow
tengri forbid women do anything???
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🦅 szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow
okay im sick of the discourse let's do this.
8,572 notes
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🐎 istván-rovására Follow
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that took so long lmao -> !!!!!!!∧◇ᛏ⋈∧
481 notes
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🐴 csillagösvény Follow
i'm so serious rn if you support """istván""" in any way just unfollow and block me. we do NOT need him or his dumbass god and what he's been doing to our people to spread his religion is shameful.
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
btw we all know your real name is vajk stop larping as a christian it's EMBARRASSINGGGG
✝️ esztergom-örökké Follow
love seeing my mutuals reblogging this /s anyway op has multiple posts on their blog supporting quartering and human sacrifice. in case you were wondering. anyway stand with István
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
1) we dont even do human sacrifices, are you fucking stupid??? show me ONE post where i talk about that. 2) are you seriously forgetting that your bestie istván LITERALLY QUARTERED HIS UNCLE?????
#sorry to put this dumbass on the dash😭 dont even engage just block them #ur not making it up the tree of life lmao #discourse
3,264 notes
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🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow
friendly reminder that just because you're white passing doesn't mean you're not a real magyar!! people with mixed parents are just as valid <3
🏇 attila-népe Follow
cranky coz ur ancestors decided to mix with the europeans arent you
🧺 lemezelő Follow
isnt your girlfriend literally frankish????
🏇 attila-népe Follow
you had to have done some serious stalking to find that💀 and first of all i didn't have a choice, my parents picked the tribe, and second of all she's not my "girlfriend" i got her via ritual kidnapping (WITH consent. before anyone gets weird)
🌐 a-kiber-kovács Follow
Couldn't you have kidnapped another magyar woman? Or someone from another mongoloid tribe?
🔅 hadúrsimp Follow
ohh sure so now human pet guy is gonna chime in to advocate for the kidnapping of our women while being lowkey racist. what are you even doing on nomadblr????
🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow
what the fuck happened to my post
19,276 notes
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🪔 rakabonciás Follow
for the nth time, you're only a true shaman if you were born with teeth OR with extra fingers OR in the sac. the rest of you are faking & we can tell.
🦅szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow
okay people keep spreading this but this is literally just wrong?? like congrats on the 6 fingers op im glad u and Little Golden Father have a special connection (genuinely) but like. táltos and sámán and mágus and garabonciás and javas etc are all different things with completely different requirements and life paths which you should definitely know if you're claiming to be one?? especially since your post says shaman but you're listing the criteria for a táltos, and your username looks like a play on garabonciás so. which is it🤔 maybe get your facts in order before trying to gatekeep
anyway don't listen to op!! your connection to the Upper World is yours alone and you're the best judge of what the Fathers and Mothers want your path in life to be!!
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🛐 mea-culpa Follow
It breaks my heart that the majority of my people still refuse to see the One True God and insist on sticking to their pagan spirits. I fear that when judgement day comes, we will all be wiped out thanks to their foul godless ways.
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
how tf am i godless when i literally have dozens of gods? little mothers and little fathers are in everything all around us & it must suck ass to live in a world where you're not surrounded by the small gods that inhabit everything. manifesting that the fene and the guta tag team beat your ass tonight
🔅 hadúrsimp Follow
hadúr will literally strike op down personally. he told me himself. whispered it to me sweetly even
🐴 csillagösvény Follow
while i agree with you, i feel like you might also have ulterior motives, nomadblr user hadúrsimp
#but live your truth! doubly so on the posts of these freak repressed bible lovers. meanwhile on the #COOL side of magyarhood we walk around butt ass naked!!! op have fun never experiencing joy ever again tho #discourse
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👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
posting from an alt so i don't get cancelled but lowkey i'm starting to think koppány was right.... maybe this christianity thing isn't gonna work out after all
👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
WRONG BLOG
👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow
THIS WAS A JOKE. IGNORE THIS
🪺 magánügyek Follow
ISTVÁN????????????? 💀
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maxtermind · 2 days
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“your opinion of me won't change, right?” + lando (who kinda has a fuckboy reputation but fell for the reader)
“your opinion of me won't change, right?”
( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one where a fuckboy gets turned into a loverboy? ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: hurt/comfort
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the knock on your door comes around midnight when you're almost going to bed. you don’t expect anyone, especially not him.
for a second, you stand still, unsure of what to do with heart thudding. but the persistent rapping doesn’t stop, and despite the days of silence between you two, you already know who it is.
when you swing the door open, lando stumbles in, his shoulders slumped, eyes clouded with alcohol and something darker. his hair is a mess, damp from the rain, and he reeks of whiskey and regret.
“y/n,” he breathes out, almost as if he’s relieved to see you. but you’re not relieved at all. you’re angry, confused, and hurt and looking at him really hit you so hard that you had to squeeze the ends of your his t-shirt to not stumble.
you close the door behind him, and he sways unsteadily. he’s drunk—drunker than you’ve ever seen him. his clothes are disheveled, his usual cool confidence replaced by something pitiful, something raw.
"lando, what the hell are you doing here?" your voice is sharp, meant to sting, because his presence alone already rips at the wounds that haven't even started healing yet.
he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you with those familiar blue eyes, the same ones that once made you weak in the knees, but now… they just bring back the pain. his lips tremble as if he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.
"you—" lando slurs slightly, stepping forward, hands outstretched. "you weren't… supposed to leave. you—" it washed over you like a bucket of cold water and you're already moving away from his touch.
"don't." your voice cracks, and you hate how fragile you sound. you take another step back, putting more space between you two. "don’t come here like this again."
lando rubs his face, pacing around your small living room slowly, stumbling over air. he’s spiraling, trying to collect his thoughts, but the alcohol muddles his brain and you can see the struggle on his face.
“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want you to leave,” he mutters. he turns to you, desperation in his eyes. "i messed up, okay? i know that. but i… fuck, i’m trying, y/n."
you cross your arms, every muscle tense. "trying? you’re drunk, lando. that’s not trying."
his face crumples at your words, and he stumbles back, this time collapsing onto the couch like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. his hands run through his hair, pulling at it in frustration, in agony.
you vividly remember what happened a few nights ago when a girl texted him asking if he was up for 'another' great night. it wasn't easy being with someone while knowing he could have anyone in the entire world and with his past, you were already always on the edge of letting your insecurities out.
it just led to a bigger argument where instead of assuring you how you were the only one he ever wanted, he asked you to either start trusting him or leave.
so you left.
"do you know how much i fucking hate myself?" his voice is hoarse now, barely above a whisper, but the rawness in it cuts through you like a knife as it brings you back to the present. "i tried to be better for you. i… i tried."
you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying to stay firm, but it’s hard. it's always been hard with him. "you have a funny way of showing it."
he lifts his head slowly, tears brimming in his eyes now, and the sight is enough to make your resolve crack just a little. you've never seen him cry before. not like this.
“your opinion of me won’t change, right?” his voice breaks, and you freeze. the vulnerability in his question sends a jolt of pain straight to your chest. he sounds small, defeated, like the weight of everything he’s been carrying has finally crushed him.
“lando…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you finish.
"because everyone else—" he pauses, taking in a shaky breath. "they all think they know me? that i’m just some… some asshole who doesn’t care, who’s not capable of… anything real? but i’m not. i’m not, y/n. you know that, right?"
the room feels heavy, like the air is thickening with every word. you want to say something, to tell him that you believed in him once, that you saw the good in him, the real lando, but it’s not that simple anymore.
"i fell for you," he says, voice trembling, eyes glistening as he stares up at you like you're the only thing that can save him. with the rapid blinking of his eyes, tears start to fall and so does your resolve. "i wish i didn’t put you through this, but i did. and i didn’t know how to be that guy… the one you deserved. but i tried. i’m still trying."
it’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of his ragged breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
you look at him, really look at him. his face is flushed from the alcohol and the tears, but beneath that, you see something more. he’s broken in ways you never let yourself see before.
all the cockiness, the bravado, the charm—it was all just a shield. he never thought he was good enough for you either, and maybe that’s why you left. you repeat it to yourself but it was a losing war.
the old lando wouldn’t be here, in front of you, crying and baring his soul. he wouldn’t have admitted any of this. isn't that reason enough to give him another chance?
he was selfish before, reckless, hiding behind his reputation as the playboy, the fun guy who never cared too deeply about anything. but now, now you see the cracks. you see the vulnerability he’s tried so hard to bury and it kills you to give in but the words leave you before you can stop yourself.
"i thought you didn’t care," you admit softly, feeling all your defenses start to crumble. "that’s why i left, lando. i didn’t think you could care."
"i fucking love you," he lets out a bitter laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. not believing what you were saying at all. "i care too fucking much. i just… maybe i don’t know how to show it right."
you sigh, sitting down beside him on the couch, still keeping a little distance between you. "it’s not about showing it right. it’s about showing it at all."
he looks at you, his gaze softer now, more open. "i’m sorry. i know i’ve been… i know i fucked up. but i’m… i love you, y/n. i really fucking love you. and i didn’t know how much until you weren’t there."
his words hang in the air, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel anger or hurt. you just feel… sad. sad for him, sad for you, sad for all the misunderstandings that led you here.
you reach out, gently brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead. he closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it like he’s starved for your touch. he probably is because so are you.
"i’ve changed," he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion. "i swear loving you has changed me."
you don’t respond right away. instead, you lean forward and press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. his skin is warm beneath your lips, and the simple gesture feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever shared before.
when you pull back, lando looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his emotions raw and exposed. "i love you too," he mumbles, his voice barely audible, like he’s falling asleep or slipping into a dream where things are better, where you’re together again.
you don’t know what’s going to happen next, or if you can really fix what’s broken between you. but for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe… just maybe, you can try.
and maybe this time, it’ll be different.
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3
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verstappenverse · 2 days
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Revved Up
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: Max grows jealous after your Instagram post attracts unwanted attention, including from an ex.
Authors Note: Do I actually believe Max posts on his own instagram these days... let alone would post with a 'scandalous' caption...no? but this is fiction so it's all good 😂
1.4k words / Masterlist
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Max was sitting on the plush leather couch in your shared Monaco apartment, flipping through TV channels with all the enthusiasm of a man waiting for a commercial break. He glanced at the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the stunning Mediterranean view, but even that wasn’t enough to distract him. It wasn’t the usual race strategy or upcoming practice sessions that had him restless—it was something far more personal.
You.
More specifically the photo you had posted on Instagram earlier that day, a simple mirror selfie, a little scandalous but nothing crazy. You looked radiant, sure, but that was normal for you. You were always beautiful to him. What had caught his eye was the flood of comments, the notifications popping up every few seconds as he scrolled through your post.
As he scrolled eyes narrowing as the likes kept ticking upwards. Then he saw it.
Your ex.
The guy who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that you were Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, because clearly he didn't see an issue with leaving a flirty comment that set Max’s nerves on edge.
'Looking gorgeous as always' it read, with an obnoxious little winking emoji at the end.
Max’s fingers tightened around the remote as the thought of some guy—especially your ex—thinking he had any right to compliment you in that way made his blood boil. You were his. The world knew it, but apparently some people needed reminding.
He didn’t say anything when you had walked into the living room earlier, cheerfully oblivious to his growing annoyance. Instead he had kept quiet, but now it was simmering just under the surface. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Max was used to; on the track he was calm, confident, but when it came to you, his cool, collected exterior faltered. Especially when some idiot tried to act like he still had a chance.
You entered the room now wearing a loose sweatshirt and leggings, a casual look that contrasted with the glamorous image you had posted earlier. Max glanced at you his jaw tightening, you could sense something was off.
“Max, is everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head as you grabbed your phone from the counter. You didn’t even have to unlock it before he spoke.
“That picture,” he said abruptly, his Dutch accent thicker than usual, which tend to only happened when his emotions were running high. His fingers tapped on the arm of the couch in an impatient rhythm.
You furrowed your brow. “What about it?”
He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and you could see the tension in his posture. “Your ex commented on it.”
“Oh,” you said, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed.“I didn’t even see that.”
Max didn’t like the idea of you looking at that idiot’s comment again, but you opened the app and scrolled down anyway finding the offending message almost immediately.
You rolled your eyes and let out a light laugh. “Seriously? He’s such a loser. I haven’t talked to him in forever.”
Max didn’t seem to find it as amusing as you did. His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, he still thinks he can leave comments like that. Like I’m not here.”
You couldn’t help but smirk at his grumpy tone. “What, are you jealous?”
His reaction was immediate. “Jealous? Me? No...” He paused. “I mean... you know how many people liked that picture?”
You raised an eyebrow, amused by how serious he looked. “Max, it’s just Instagram I think the point is to like pictures," you laughed but his expression didn't change ,"Max come on it’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, though he still sounded more irritated than actually angry. “Everyone’s drooling over you in the comments. And then there’s him.”
You couldn't help chuckling again and slid onto the couch next to him, pressing your hand against his knee. “Are you worried someone’s going to steal me away?”
He gave you a look, his lips twitching upwards at the edges, betraying the smallest hint of a smile. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re being ridiculous.” You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his cheek.
Max sighed dramatically throwing his head back against the cushions. “Maybe I should just post a picture with you, remind people who you belong to.”
“Oh, who I belong to?” you teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. “That sounds a little possessive.”
There was a teasing glint in his eye now, but you could still feel the underlying jealousy. “Can you blame me?”
You bit your lip to keep from laughing, enjoying how worked up he was getting over something so trivial. Seeing him this riled up over some stupid comment was kind of… adorable. You kind of loved when he got all possessive, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.
“No, I guess I can’t blame you,” you admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But you know I don’t care about those comments, right? Especially not from my ex. I didn’t even notice it.”
“Maybe you should block him,” Max muttered back to sounding grumpy.
You laughed again, unable to stop yourself. “Max, it’s fine, if it’ll make you feel better of course I’ll block him. But I need you to know I never think about him.”
He softened a little at that, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. “You better not.”
You smiled, nuzzling into him the warmth of his body calming. “Besides, none of those guys commenting are Max Verstappen now are they?”
“Exactly,” Max said, and there was that cocky smile you loved so much. The mood lightened as his fingers brushed through your hair. “None of them stand a chance.”
You grinned up at him. “And neither does my ex, so you can relax.”
He seemed to settle after that, his hand lazily stroking your arm as the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Good. But still…”
“Still what?”
“I think I should post a picture with you. Just to make sure everyone knows.”
You snorted. “You just want an excuse to show off.”
“Can you blame me?” he repeated, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reached for his phone. “Come on, one picture. Let me remind everyone you’re mine.”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just one.”
Max scrolled through his phone finding the perfect shot of you two together arms wrapped around each other, he quickly typed out a caption and hit ‘post.’ Not long after, your phone buzzed with notifications. His fans were quick, already liking and commenting on the post.
You glanced at it over his shoulder, chuckling at the caption: Just a reminder—she’s mine.
“Oh my God Max,” you groaned playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”
He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s true.”
You laughed and shook your head, leaning into him once more. “You really are something.”
“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And don’t forget it.”
The rest of the evening passed in a much lighter mood. The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, you spent the time teasing Max about his jealous streak, much to his dismay.
“You know, I never thought I’d see the day when Max Verstappen got jealous over a social media comment,” you teased, curling up beside him on the couch.
He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m not jealous. I’m just… protective.”
“Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous,” he admitted, pulling you closer. “You’re kind of amazing.”
You beamed up at him, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “Well, good thing I’m all yours, huh?”
“Good thing,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet. When he pulled away, he added kiddingly “What about, no more selfies without me in them.”
You laughed and nudged him playfully. “We’ll see about that.”
But deep down, you didn’t mind the way Max was with you. The way he got protective, a little possessive, and sometimes even a little jealous. Max was known as a fierce competitor on the track, but when it came to you, his heart felt just as fierce. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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cutielando · 2 days
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a baku special | l.n.
synopsis: in which Y/N is there for the Baku GP
my masterlist
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To say that Lando was excited for the Azerbaijan weekend was an understatement. Baku was probably one of his favorite tracks, and he was excited to finally be back after a year away.
He was especially excited that you were finally able to attend the race, having been stuck at work ever since you came back from the summer break. You were just as bummed that you had to miss the Dutch Grand Prix, especially since his family was there for Lando, but you finally managed to get some time off of work to join your boyfriend.
The entire team was grateful that you were able to tag along, frankly. They never failed to let you know just how mopey Lando was every time he had to leave you behind at home, how down he was and how much it took to get him to even smile or seem excited about the race.
Poking fun at him with Jon and Will was one of your favorite things, in truth. Even though he always got embarrassed, you knew he secretly loved seeing you get along so well with the closest people to him from the team. 
The weekend started very promising, to say the least. Both Oscar and Lando seemed very consistent and quick during the runs they did in the free practice sessions, and everything was looking very well for the qualifying session later that Saturday.
Lando had a very good feeling about it, jumping up and down in excitement in the last half hour he had free before he had to get in the car.
“You look excited as hell” you commented as Lando brought you with him as he started getting ready, smiling at how bouncy and energetic he was.
“I have a good feeling about this weekend, just wait and see” he smiled, giving you one last kiss before putting on his balaclava and his helmet, making you press a kiss to it before he made his way towards the car.
It had become your little ritual whenever you attended a race, giving his helmet a little kiss before he would get into the car. It made him feel more confident when you did that, reminding him that you were there with him, supporting him like you always did. 
But as the minutes ticked by during Q1 and Lando exited the garage with 2 minutes left on the clock, your heart started racing a little and panic started creeping into your veins. 
They had left it very late, and with the amount of yellow flags that have been shown during every single session so far in the weekend, you worried that something was going to go wrong and he wouldn’t be able to set a fast lap in time.
And, unfortunately, that was exactly what had happened.
He was doing so well, his lap times were so much faster than his previous lap and he was so close to the finish line when the marshals decided to wave that yellow flag for Ocon’s car, ultimately ending your boyfriend’s quali run in that exact moment.
Slamming on the breaks just mere meters away from the finish line, Lando slowly limped back to the pits, the session over for him much earlier than anyone had expected.
You didn’t need to see or hear him to know how gutted and disappointed he was by the pure bad luck he had with the timing of that yellow flag, the fight for the World Championship now more intense than ever. There was no room for mistakes, everyone knew that, but what could you do when things out of your control happen?
Will was just as disappointed as Lando when he had to tell him he did not have the time to start another flying lap, Jon was just as sad as you were to see him aborting and coming back 17th, and you… you had no words left in your body.
Lando got out of the car quickly, taking off his helmet and balaclava before accepting the water bottle you had been holding for him, his expression neutral, but you could see the turmoil happening in his eyes.
You slowly approached him as he drank from his bottle and stared off into the distance, pressing a hand on his back as you leaned in to whisper in his ear “Do you want to go back to your driver room for a bit?” 
He nodded, his mind still somewhere else but he allowed you to pull him with you, not even glancing at anyone in the garage. He felt bad enough as it was, he didn’t want to see the disappointed faces of his entire team, it would only make him feel worse.
You silently walked through the motor home, smiling slightly at people passing you and praying that none of them say anything to Lando. He just needed to be alone and away from everyone for a moment, he didn’t need to be bombarded with questions from the media just yet.
He deserved to be alone for at least 5 minutes following that qualifying.
The moment you got to his room, you locked the door behind you as he sat down on a chair, staring at his feet with an absent look on his face.
“Are you okay?” you asked as you kneeled in front of him, taking the bottle out of his hands and taking his hands into yours.
“The championship battle is over” he muttered, biting his lip as he sniffled. 
You shook your head, squeezing his hands into yours.
“Don’t say that, don’t you dare say that. You had back luck, baby, everyone knows that. You would have been P2 if that yellow flag hadn’t happened, and you know it. It had nothing to do with your performance, baby. It was FIA's mistake, don’t beat yourself up over it. You’ll come back stronger in tomorrow’s race and you’ll show everyone what a brilliant driver you really are” you said, punctuating every single word.
“What if I can’t do it? P17 is not really an ideal start” he said, but the corner of his lip threatened to lift upwards.
He was slowly coming back to you, slowly realizing that this wasn’t the end of the world, and it certainly wasn’t the end in his championship battle with Max.
“You will fight like hell and you will come back from this. I’m sure others will receive penalties and you’ll move up either way, but you’re a brilliant driver and this is nothing but another challenge to prove to everyone just how good you are and how much you deserve to have a quick car and win with it” you declared, your heart growing fonder once you saw the small smile Lando had on his face.
Just for the moment, he didn’t care about the race tomorrow, or about the fact that he had to start at the back of the grid. The only thing he cared about in that moment was that you were there with him, and that was all he needed in order to push through.
Just you.
♡♡♡♡♡
The morning of the race was very busy for Lando, having woken up a good while before you and left for the track so he could discuss the strategy with his team thoroughly. 
You didn’t wake up until 10am, having taken your time to get ready before heading to the track alongside Jon. 
Meeting up with Lando took longer than you had expected, him finally emerging into the motorhome an hour and a half before he had to be in the car to start the race.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” you asked once he came into your view, joining you as you were grabbing breakfast.
He sighed, resting his elbows against the table and his head against his palm.
“I’ve been up since 7, going over different strategies since 8:30. I’m starting 15th, by the way. Pierre and Lewis are both starting from the pitlane, so that’s some good news” he said, making you smile and squeeze his arm.
“Remember what we talked about yesterday?” you asked, making him nod. “This is just another day where you have to drive your best and show everyone just how talented you are with a good car. Don’t think about how many cars you have to overtake, just go out there and have a good time. I have faith in you” you smiled and kissed the side of his head, resting your forehead against his shoulder as your hand caressed the hair at the back of his neck, the soft curls waving between your fingers.
“Sometimes I don’t know how I manage when you’re not here with me” he said, resting his head against yours.
You smile sadly, wishing that you could attend every single race in order to be with him. 
The two of you had had some talks during the course of your relationship, with Lando suggesting that if you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to work because he had more than enough money to comfortably support the both of you.
But you liked your job, you liked the feeling of belonging to a place just like Lando belonged in the racing world, and you liked earning your own money (even though you barely used any of it because Lando always insisted on paying for everything). But when there came times like these, when your fiancé just needed you to be there for him, you wanted nothing more than to quit your job and just follow him around the world.
That was a conversation you would have after the race, though.
“I love you, never forget that. I’m always here for you, even if I’m not physically here. I’ll support you from whatever corner of the world I am at, never doubt that” you turned his head towards you and kissed him, pouring every single emotion into the kiss.
Lando melted at the feeling of your lips against his, the feeling of kissing you never having less of an effect on him than it did when you first got together. The butterflies were still there, and he still giggled on the inside whenever you two kissed, like a teenager in love.
Because he was in love with you, head over heels, and he would never get over it when it felt so good.
“I love you too”
♡♡♡♡♡
Frankly, the race was one of the most stress-inducing races you had ever attended personally. 
You were biting your lip every time the screen would cut to Lando overtaking someone, the sight of the walls coming at him at very high speeds making your heart jump every single time.
But seeing him climb through the order as fast as he possibly could made you prouder than you thought you could ever be.
The last sting on the mediums trying to catch and overtake Max had you the most stressed. You knew it was a pretty high gamble, one that both Lando and the team were willing to make, but you also knew how badly Max defended his positions, whether he had the car to do it or not.
Painful flashbacks of their fight in Austria came at you with high speeds, the unfortunate retirement on Lando’s side with just a couple of laps to go still haunting the both of you.
But then, he got closer and closer to Max, with fewer and fewer laps to go, and then he was in front of him. You didn’t remember cheering as loudly as you did in that moment with the team, not even when he won in Miami or Zandvoort.
Crossing the finish line in P4 was more than anyone could have wanted, and with Oscar winning the Grand Prix and McLaren leading the Constructors Championship, it was an amazing day for everyone in the team, every single person involved.
But especially for Lando.
You were anxiously and excitedly waiting for him to get back to the garage, ready to congratulate him on a superb drive that he should be nothing but proud of.
And then when you finally saw him approaching, you couldn’t stop yourself from running over to him, jumping straight into his arms, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and your legs locked around his waist.
“I’m so fucking proud of you” you whispered against his neck, tears running down your cheeks from how proud you were of him.
“Who would have thought, right?” he joked, sighing against your neck as he took in your scent and your presence, his adrenaline starting to wear off as your presence calmed him down.
The world around you seemed to not even exist anymore, it was only the two of you locked in a tight embrace, ignoring every noise other than the steady breathing and heartbeat between you.
“I never doubted you for a second. I know what you’re capable of and you proved everything today on track” you lifted your head from his neck and took his face in your hands, not wasting another second before pressing your hungry lips against his, kissing him like he was your oxygen and your life depended on him.
And so, in those moments, after such a disastrous start to the weekend, the love of your life prevails, with you by his side.
Like always.
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wosoluver · 2 days
Text
Oh, baby
Georgia Stanway x reader.
I know nothing about giving birth so bare with me. Also please don't kill me for the plot changes, Hope you like it!
Other players masterlist
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──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Fuck!" you said feeling the warm liquid run down your legs. "No, no, no." You were staying over at her parents' house. Tomorrow would be the final match at the 2023 world cup and you would be gathered to watch the game there.
"Jo! We need to go, my water just broke!" you said grabbing her mother's attention. Her dad had gone to Australia to support her, but her mom refused leaving you, pregnant and alone. And you thanked the universe. You were 36 weeks, you were to give birth only next month. You had been feeling small contractions, that were apparently normal in the third trimester.
That was the only reason Georgia agreed to go.
A million thoughts went through your mind. Would the baby be okay? Would they have to do a C-section?
Would your fiancé be okay, knowing she missed the moment se was waiting so excited for? Were you even ready for this?
You started to cry immediately.
"Don't worry love, I'm calling her as soon as you're in the hospital."
"No please! You can't! You know her!" you said followed by a scream when you felt the sharp pain of a contraction hit you. "Please, please wait as much as we can. This is important for her, she needs to be a hundred percent focused."
"But seeing her daughter's birth is too..."
"I know but even if she knows, she'll won't get here in time. Please."
She only nodded agreeing with you. And you asked her to call your parents instead.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
While you walked around the room, preparing yourself for the ride ahead, in attempt to stay sound, you thought about what had led you here.
You and Georgia had been together for almost six years.
You had met at Man City, both came from a small town and were around the same age, sharing the dream to become big players.
You started dating, and your relationship went through a lot.
You endured for years a long distance relationship, when you moved away to play in Spain and she stayed back in Manchester.
A couple of seasons later you transferred to Bayern, where your girlfriend soon followed suit.
And you both finally managed to start your life together.
She didn't want to wait any longer, all that time had been enough.
From living together to her proposing, life felt like pure bliss.
And after the 2022 euro's title, you felt like it was the right time to have a pause on your career.
It wasn't an easy decision, since the World Cup was around the corner.
But differently from your teammates, you now had a bigger dream, Georgia fully supported you, she herself had always wanted to be a mother.
You didn't expect for it to work so soon.
Along with the risks the doctors had told you, it could take more than one try.
Fortunately the whole pregnancy had been very healthy, and nothing gave you any reason to think something like this could happen.
You questioned yourself if you were doing the right thing, by not updating her on the matter.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Georgia's head was buzzing, Spain was winning by a goal. England had slightly recovered at the end of first half, but it wasn't enough.
She sat on the locker room, trying to cool down, zoning out a bit. All she could think of was winning this, to come home as a champion. For her girls.
She could have never imagined you had been in the hospital for the last couple of hours, let alone giving birth. So she didn't bother to look for her phone.
And before she knew, she was walking back to the field for the second half.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Just one more push, yeah?"
And you did as a loud cry filled the room. And they placed her right on your chest.
You felt like you could pass out from how tired you were.
But you couldn't, yet.
"You did great darling." her mom cooed you in between tears.
"Is the game over yet?"
"Yes, they won second place." she handed your phone over.
You cried hard a the sound of that. She had been deprived of being champion and seeing her daughter's first moments in the same day, at the same time. You tried to recompose yourself while you pressed to facetime her.
ongoing call...
"Hey love, what took you so lon-" she managed to get out before shutting up at the realization. A big smile appearing in her tear stained face. "She's beautiful."
before she could say anything else, Lucy, who was prying at the video call, loudly announced to everyone.
"The baby is here!" and you could hear the girls cheering loudly. Running to try and congratulate you.
"You guys are so loud, geez." your soon to be wife said after a few moments, walking to a more private place, so you both could talk.
"I am so sorry." you said eyes filled with tears.
"We couldn't have known." she said giving you a reassuring smile. "I was going to show you this baby here," showing her silver medal at the camera. "But it seems like you're already holding our baby right there."
And for over ten minutes you two sat quietly, just admiring the angel you had brought into the world.
"Is she okay? I mean she clearly looks like it, but since she's early..."
"Better than expected actually. They said she's around 6.30 lbs and over 19 inches. Pretty big for a preterm. They'll run some tests in the morning, just to be sure." you said letting out a yawn.
"You need to get some sleep. And I'm getting on the first plane home."
"I love you, and I'm so proud of you."
"Oh baby, I'm the one who's proud. I love you. Both of you."
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Maybe another part with G meeting baby Talia?
like & share pls!
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Text
Heart-Stopping
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Surgeon!Female!Reader
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: fluff
Summary: After a ten-hour surgery, all you want to do is go home and be with your husband. When he comes into the ER needing surgery, your entire world is turned upside down.
Square Filled: "Oh, don't worry, this blood isn't mine." (2022) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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x
You trudge out of the OR into the scrub room to clean your hands and arms. The surgery you were just in lasted an atrocious ten hours. You’ve gone for more, but this was so tough since the patient’s heart kept arresting and her blood vessels were so friable that it was hard to do any kind of stitches. Still, you managed to get her fixed and stable enough to be transferred to the ICU.
All you want to do is go home to your husband and cuddle until you fall asleep in his arms. He understands your job and how you can’t always be home with him. He’s in the FBI so he has the same demand even if he’s doing work that’s completely different. The reason your marriage works is that you two make it a point to call each other every day, plan an at-home date every week, a date anywhere that’s not your house every month, and have a small vacation every six months.
He’s your rock and you don’t know what you’d do without him in your life. He’s your biggest supporter and the love of your life.
You’re scrubbing away the sweat and grime from your hands when your pager goes off. You grab a microfiber towel and dry your hands before checking the pager. 911 ER. You toss the towel away and run out of the room hoping you can get to the ER in time. There is a patient who needs your attention and might die if you’re not there. It amazes you that you have so much energy after a surgery like that and maybe it’s because of the silent promise of saving as many people as you can.
You push the double doors open that lead into the ER and look around to see if you can spot the patient that needs you.
“Dr. Y/N! I need you to know that everything is okay…”
You can’t hear anything your resident says because all you’re focused on is your husband lying on a stretcher covered in blood. Your entire world comes crashing to a stop. You’re a very skilled heart doctor but it feels like your own heart is going to stop at the thought of your life without Spencer in it. His coworkers, Derek and Emily, are by his side without blood on their clothes.
“Y/N!” Derek grabs your shoulders and snaps you out of the silent panic you’re in. “He’s okay, I promise he’ll be fine.”
“What happened? Spencer!”
You rush over to him, and he grabs your hand gently.
“Oh, don’t worry, this blood isn’t mine,” he mumbles.
“What happened?” you ask Derek and Emily.
“There was an accident. He tried to save our victim and got caught in the crossfire. She’s right behind him.”
“Y/N, we’ll take care of him.”
You turn to see your chief of surgery and your best friend who has a determined yet empathetic look on his face. You can’t take care of your husband because he’s your husband so the only person you trust to take care of him is the chief.
“Okay,” you whisper. “Don’t let him die, please.”
“We go it. Go to Trauma One!”
Spencer is wheeled to the first trauma room just as the victim comes in right behind him. She, you can help. Spencer is wheeled into surgery to fix an injury on his leg while the general surgeon and neurosurgeon take the victim to surgery. If there is anything to be done on her heart, they’ll call you in. You’re stuck thinking about Spencer instead of being in surgery to take your mind off it. You leave Trauma Two and walk over to Emily and Derek who are talking to each other.
“What happened to him?”
“There was a car accident, the car the victim was in. They skidded on a patch of ice and the car slammed into a tree, ejecting the victim out of the windshield. Spencer was the first to her which is how he got all of her blood on him. Another car came around the corner and didn’t see the crashed vehicle, and they collided with it, sending shrapnel into Spencer’s leg. He lost a lot of blood on the way over here.”
“Shit,” you whisper with tears in your eyes.
“He’s going to be okay. You have a talented team of doctors here.”
“I know,” you nod.
There is no choice but to wait for Spencer to get out of surgery. When he is, they take him to a private room where you can sit with him. It takes twenty minutes for him to come out of the anesthesia, but he’s still pretty loopy from it.
“Hey, baby, how are you doing?”
You take out your stethoscope and check his heart and lungs, relief clouding your head when you don’t hear anything bad about it.
“Doctor… I need… I need some… some flowers.”
“Flowers? For what?”
“My wife. Her birthday is this weekend, and I want to get her flowers.”
Your heart swells happily at his little confession. He knows how much you love getting flowers. They brighten up even the darkest of places.
“It’s very important, please.” He rolls his head to the side and looks at you through hooded eyes. He doesn’t seem to recognize it’s his wife right in front of him. “I need you… Can you write her a card for me?”
“What do you want it to say?”
“I love her. Her eyes are pretty. She makes me so happy. Just say that.”
“Okay,” you grin with tears in your eyes.
Spencer’s eyes close and you sit next to his bed. You grab his hand and kiss the back of it, content with staying just like this until he wakes up.
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x
Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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squiddy-god · 3 days
Note
If asks are still open can I request savanaclaw with a bf who is quite literally a golden retriever? (Their a golden retriever beastmen) make it nsfw if you want but that's up to you.
I decided to keep this as cute and fluffy but i really like the idea, i was torn between having reader be a member of savanaclaw  or themes till being the ramshackle prefect who happened to come from a world with similar beastmen. I left it ambiguous but yeah ♥︎REQUESTS OPEN♥︎ cw : none, fluffy, male reader!,
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Leona 
At first he thought you were an annoying dog because like, cats and dogs haha
But he warms up to you, his silly puppy
The real grumpy x sunshine trope over here, honestly you can be a bit rambunctious sometimes but he just wants to cuddle 
You seem to just have a 6th sense for finding where he is lol like you can just automatically know where he is 
Will never admit it but the happy look in your eyes when he calls you a good boy for doing anything kinda makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside
Same with when he sees your tail wag when you see him 
You can pry that from his cold dead hands tho
He really values the loyalty that you have 
He is not immune to puppy dog eyes so use that info however you want 
Claims that cuddling when you let him scratch behind your ears helps him sleep better, he's a dirty liar and just wants to pet you 
Has never gotten used to you basically pouncing on him when hes napping but makes you pay in cuddles so its fine
Thinks its really cute if you do the thing dogs do when they sleep and chase things in their dreams 
He calls you “puppy” and “mutt” affectionately but if anyone else was to call you either he will be having words (read : hands) with them. 
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Ruggie 
He loves this actually 
He ends up roping you into all of his schemes because you two always seem to be together, where one of you is the other is close behind 
He loves how sweet you are, and he often makes you food as a little treat
I think he would like having little matching charms, his being a golden retriever cham and yours being a hyena because obviously 
Favorite activity is flopping your ears because you are too adorable really 
He loves when you get all excited and run up to him and almost tackle him with a hug 
Yapper x yapper 
Teaches you the true ways of the puppy eyes so that you and him can tag team leona lmao because again he is not immune to puppy eyes
You become his little helper for everything and he loves rewarding you with treats and cuddles because you are in fact his goodest boy 
I think his nickname for you would be goldie because ya know golden retriever 
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Jack
The two goddess boys 
He thinks you are so cute because he is a wolf beastman and you are just a doggy lol, 
He would never admit that but its super obvious with the way his tail is wagging furiously 
Its cute because when you two hug or kiss both of your tails are going absolutely bonkers 
I think he likes to play wrestle like dogs do, but the whole time hes trying to be gentle because again he's a whole wolf lmao 
Can't hold your hand without his tail going nuts because he sees your tail going nuts and he gets embarrassed 
Another one where you can tackle him with a hug, but unlike ruggie he will just catch you lmao 
If you try to be intimidating he secretly thinks its also cute because he really sees you as too cute
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myeagleexpert · 2 days
Text
The Perfect Boyfriend ( PT 2 )
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𝕭𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖊𝖔𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖎𝖓��� 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝖕𝖗𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚𝖕 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖉 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖘𝖞𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖞 '𝕮𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖘𝖆𝖜 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖊
Doppleganger/Skinwalker!Yandere x YN (AFAB)Summary: Despite living in a pink world, there's a little voice in the back of your head that tells you that there's something strange with your boyfriend. It can't be anything important, right? (You'll regret not listening to it) Warnings: (Toxic relationships, obsessed relationships, mental manipulation, the smell of rot, description of death, description of fear and panic, a little sentimental smut, The thing loves you - too much.) Uncertain motives. He tries to keep you trapped. Some character will threaten to die, gore,The fic is long because it already has part3 included. The term 'YN' and 'you' is used several times in the fanfic for better grammatical use, my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. <3
PT1:Candlelight dinner PT2: She Knows.
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YN wakes up screaming.
She sits up quickly in bed with a cold sweat running down her forehead, looking disoriented as she tries to identify the dark environment around her.
“Shhh honey, it was just a dream.” A male voice, from the other side of the bed, approaches her comfortingly.
“W…wait-“ the girl tries to push the man away, still confused and tired, but the hand she uses to push him away is soon enveloped by his warm comforting hand.
“I'm here, sweetheart, you're safe and sound here.” He pulls her into a hug and makes her lie back down on the bed, pulling fluffy and warm blankets up to her neck. “It was just a nightmare, huh?”
Kain continues to hug her, caressing YN affectionately, small circles on her back and a warm hand in her hair as he wraps her protectively.
“L-listen….-“ she tries to break free but he quickly stops her, pressing a kiss on her lips to shut her up.
“Shh my love, you can talk about your nightmare later, okay? If not, you'll keep remembering and you won't be able to sleep anymore.” He gives her a few more kisses on the cheek “Let's go to sleep, okay?”
“You're safe here, YN. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. I'm here.” He continues to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, and then he starts to softly sing a strange song.
“Nana baby…… Cuca's coming to get you…. Daddy went to the farm, mommy went to work……
“You're safe here, YN. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. I'm here” He repeats. And again. And again. Even after you reluctantly fall asleep.
“Nana baby…… Cuca's coming to get you…. Daddy went to the farm, mommy went to work……
YN dreams with quick flashes of a disgusting creature, a rotten smell, a metallic smell… and Kain's smile. The young woman wakes up calmly a few hours later with the sun rising and the smell of food coming from the door… is he preparing something?
Oh, he was already ready.
"Good morning, dear!" he says, entering the room with the bamboo breakfast tray.
Kain places the tray on the dresser next to the bed gracefully and walks to her side, giving a soft kiss on the top of her head and then gently putting her tangled hair in a bun so she can drink her coffee properly. "How did you sleep, love?"
YN looks at him confused, not really knowing what happened or not… but decides to keep quiet about it.
"I slept… well, I guess?" she laughs, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek "But I don't remember falling asleep. What happened?"
Kain holds back a smug smile, choosing to focus on the feeling of YN's lips on his skin.
"Oh, sweetheart. You fell asleep on the couch yesterday, we were watching the movie when you fell asleep. I brought you here so you could sleep better in the room.”
“And… I was already wearing pajamas? I don’t remember that.” The young woman looks at the cotton pajamas, a white American pajama set with little pink hearts. It was a couple’s promotion, so Kain was wearing pink pajamas with white hearts.
“No, my baby, you were wearing that polka dot dress but I changed into pajamas.”
After all, he always liked to play house.
“Ok, my love, thank you for taking care of me”
“Everything for you, sweetheart.” He hugs her and goes to her closet, choosing the clothes for today’s work day, a habit he did when YN was late or simply wanted to be one less thing to worry about.
As soon as he finishes choosing the clothes, Kain decides to iron them while YN gets out of bed and goes to take a shower, locking the door for safety. In a long bath, YN tries to remember what really happened the day before, noticing that she feels slightly sore and tired, with her head too heavy for her body. The holographic bubbles mixed with the memories that she tried to connect in an almost random and disorganized way…..
I took a bath…… and I was happy…. I got a promotion at work…
There was a pink cake…… and some music playing….
YN gets out of the bath and grabs the pastel pink towel to dry herself.
I watched a movie, but I don't know what it was about…. I was with Kain in the living room, cuddling….. And the boss… had she sent messages?
The young woman takes a brush to comb her hair, noticing that it is more tangled than usual……
Yeah. She had sent messages. I saw the messages when I got out of the bath…. but what was it about?
As she dries her hair, she smiles to herself. It must be the photos from yesterday's party! How silly of me, I didn't even like the photos and shared them! Let me see now~
Wait… photos?
With a breath of realization the girl remembers, a deja vu connecting the loose memories and she holds her breath: the messages from the boss- ex-boyfriend- three weeks- fear- the perfumed path- rose petals- pink cake- panic- film- cell phone- door- Kain- rotten smell. But what happened for her to forget everything? YN has a script of what happened yesterday, but for some reason she doesn't remember the main key: Why was she afraid?
She continues combing her hair and notices that the back of her head is strangely sore, and not the kind that comes from sleeping badly… but the kind that comes from a blow. She lets go of the comb and with her hand she feels her head looking for the source of the pain, and finds a lump forming. Silently moaning in pain, she wonders how this lump got there. Kain is so careful with her, how could this have happened? YN does a quick skincare routine and thinks that if something has happened, she can check it on her cell phone.
“Everything is ready, honey! Your clothes are on the bed!”
“Thank you, love!” she answers to Kain’s voice. Hearing her answers, he takes light steps to leave the room.
As she leaves the bathroom, she feels that there is something strange, like a hole under the carpet. But that's not important now, not when she sees the clothes he's put out: an office chic look, there's not a single wrinkle or crease in the whole outfit, a sign of Kain's care, and there's a sweet smell on the clothes that makes YN feel like she's on cloud nine again, she picks up the clothes and brings them to her nose to delight in the sweet scent of fabric softener. Who would pay attention to these details about her? He's so perfect <3
What more could she want?
"Oh, how I love my boyfriend-"
Boss: YN THIS IS NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND.
Like a painful deja vu, YN remembers exactly the messages from her boss as she struggles to know if it was all a dream or not.
Boss: KAIN DIED IN AN ACCIDENT THREE WEEKS AGO.
She can see the messages on the bright screen of her phone, it was before she went down for dinner. She remembers feeling her heart racing as she tried to contain her despair. She remembers a terrible image of Kain in a car accident.
Boss: RUN AWAY IMMEDIATELY!
“Oh… fuck.” She curses in a low tone as she frantically searches for her cell phone in the room, the bathroom, and the dressers next to the bed. There is only one way to confirm, and she needs to find her cell phone. She has two options now: If this is a big misunderstanding from yesterday's horror movies, she will give Kain a big kiss for even doubting him, but if what the boss says is true… then she has to get out of there as quickly as possible.
In a hurry, she changes into the clothes he chose and for the first time in two weeks she walk straight ahead without looking at the pink bag Kain gave her. It accompanied her every day, a beautiful pink quilted bag with gold and pearl details, but it is small. Despite being a work bag, YN hardly carries anything other than her lip gloss, her cell phone, and other things, but this time, she needs to go further and chooses the black bag she had bought for herself. The bag was black and also padded, bigger and more spacious, with silver details and chains.
Before you freak out, let's get the facts straight like a logical and respectable woman.
She says to herself as she chooses silver earrings to match the beautiful silver necklace she is wearing. YN knows very well that she can't just go to the police station and accuse the man of being… I don't know, what crime is he committing? Anyway, until she proves that the man she is with in the house is not her boyfriend and a potentially dangerous person, she needs to keep a cool head. The police might think that SHE is the crazy one and humiliate the poor girl at the police station, belittling all her fears and anxieties.
The boss is my witness. The evidence is on the cell phone. …..And where is the cell phone?
She leaves the room with her bag and quickly goes down the stairs, alert, trying not to breathe too much of the air fresheners while trying to behave normally. Unfortunately, she misses a step or two, causing her to trip… but before she hits the ground, strong arms protect her from the fall.
“I could ask if it hurt when you fell from the sky, but… the stairs are closer, aren't they, angel?” Her boyfriend's voice is playful, but his arms touch something that gives him goosebumps, and not in a good way. “Why… are you in such a hurry, my love? Be careful going down the stairs.” He tries to hide it as he helps her up.
“I'm looking for my cell phone, er… honey. Didn't you see it?”
Act normal, act normal, act normal….
“It's charging in the living room.” Kain simply points to the outlet next to the couch
YN hurriedly finds herself on the couch, grabbing her cell phone and feeling a momentary relief at the thought that she would finally find the answer she was looking for. Her heart beats rapidly as she searches through the conversations with her boss.
Please tell me what's going on!
Boss: YN, can you format the document you sent just now? On page 3 you need to add the details of the client's project.
YN: Sure, I'll send it to you in 5 minutes.
The messages have been deleted.
The most recent one is from three days ago.
Her heart stops. Her breath catches in her throat. Her blood pressure drops to her feet. YN can't believe what she was seeing. She searches through her gallery and checks to make sure the message wasn't on other apps.
She feels like she's right on top of the hole the rug is hiding, but she can't remove the rug yet or she'll fall in herself. Kain watches her analytically from the stairs, still trying to decipher her emotions, wanting to get inside her head to know what she's thinking, why did she change her purse today? Why the silver necklace? He bites the inside of his cheek and tries to sound as normal as possible.
"Did you find your cell phone, sweetheart?" His smile is charming and irresistible, but it doesn't reach his blue eyes.
He's the one who turned it off.
You take a deep breath and hold your wide eyes, slowly getting up and going to the door "Yes… it's charged to 100%. I'm going to work now, I'll be back at night, okay"
Kain's smile fades "At night? You know I can't stand being away from you for so long." He says sweetly, leaning against the wall "Couldn't you come back before sunset? We could do something together…”
“You know my boss is very strict, Kain. I can’t ask her for an afternoon off.” Yn gives a weak smile, she could ask her boss for an afternoon off but she didn’t want to spend the afternoon with this strange man, now that she knows that the man is not the real Kain she sees him in a different light.
“Oh yeah? Maybe she’ll be in a good mood today.” Kain kisses Yn’s hand quickly, unlike usual, there’s a dark tone in his words
“Y-yeah, maybe she’ll be fine today. I have to go-“ even though YN opens the door and tries to get out of the corner, Kain’s hand still holds her tightly
“Aren’t you forgetting something, dear?” Kain looks at her with an intense and possessive look
YN is slightly terrified when she looks into his eyes, there’s a strange atmosphere in the place. “I… ar… I ……” she looks at him anxiously and the motorcycle outside waiting for her, and tries to pull her hand away once more, however, Kain continues to hold on tightly.
“I love you.” He chuckles, lightening the mood and pressing another kiss on the back of her hand, but still doesn’t let go, waiting for his beloved’s response.
“….. I… I love you too.” Even with hesitant words, YN manages to answer her boyfriend, sealing the promise and completing the daily ritual.
Feeling satisfied, Kain finally lets go of her hand and allows her to go to work, waiting for the motorcycle to completely disappear from sight before entering the house and preparing something special.
At work, YN feels a horrible sensation of being watched, but how can that be, the work environment is something safe, right? As soon as the break is allowed, she runs to the bathroom, locking herself in one of the last stalls and opening an anonymous tab…. as a precaution…. to try to understand what Kain is and how she can escape this situation.
“A skinwalker is a mythological creature that steals the skin of its victims and disguises itself as them…”
“…… an extremely malicious and sadistic creature with its victims…”
“DON’T BELIEVE ANYTHING THE CREATURE SAYS! The creature will say anything to get the victim.”
“The creature hardly gives up on its target. In two or three days it gets what it wants.”
“The creature leaves no witnesses, so if you are the target of a supposed skinwalker, flee the place immediately and surround yourself with people. It will not be able to attack you for fear of being seen.”
“If you cannot get away, use silver objects to protect yourself…”
“RUN AWAY IMMEDIATELY!”
Holy shit.
In life, there are times when you curse in anger or frustration for being in a complicated situation, but YN sighed in such a way that all her bones roared in unison “oh… fuck.” While she was still searching for more information so focused that she didn't realize that she was the only person in the bathroom and that the lights were starting to fade…
“YN~” a voice hummed as the echo of the bathroom did its job
YN remained silent, mentally thinking that the person would leave, however, elegant and slow footsteps in high heels echoed through the bathroom until they reached the last stall, the girl recognized her boss's black heels and smiled in relief.
“Oh Boss, it's you!” she sighed in relief and threw her cell phone into her black bag “I really needed to talk to you! About those messages you sent, you know?” she started talking nonstop trying to get the subject moving, relieved to finally have someone to talk to about this and a potential help.
As soon as YN opened the door she was faced with a strange sight, to say the least. She analyzed her boss from head to toe: Her black heels were tight, her clothes were so wrinkled that it looked like she had just rolled out of bed with them, her hair was in a messy hairstyle… and she found familiar blue eyes.
No..... no no no no no no......please no....
“Yes, dear? What did you want to talk to me about?” she smiles uncannily with her red lipstick smudged and poorly drawn, something that the perfectionist boss would never allow.
YN takes a step back, the boss takes a step forward.
“Boss…. are you okay?” there is a strange glow in her eyes, like a reflection that shouldn't be there.
I'm in a place with people…. he can't hurt me here.
“…. I'm fine, my dear." The boss says with a frozen smile and an impossibly straight and rigid posture, her voice is like a musician trying to play an instrument for the first time, testing out the tones and tones hesitantly, like a robot would slowly carry the answer “I really wanted to… talk to you.”
Yn walks past her anxiously towards the washroom, washing her hands and fixing her hair while looking in the mirror at the boss trying to get out of there as quickly as possible. “Yes, boss?”
The figure slowly turns to YN, the sound of high heels echoing with each step that approaches the young woman “You're making a mistake, YN.”
“….er, what am I doing wrong?” as she dries her hands YN turns to the other woman anxiously.
The boss continues with the same frozen smile.
“Your…silver necklace.” The figure points to the necklace around YN's neck “It's against company rules to wear that kind of accessory here.”
“That necklace? But I've already worn it be-“
“No.” The boss opens her hand and YN feels her body freeze with what she says next “I came to collect the necklace, you must comply with the company's rules.”
“I can keep it in my bag so… I don't want to bother you with such simple things.” The girl holds the necklace and slowly moves away from the boss.
“No.” The boss says in a more authoritative tone “I came to collect the necklace.” She approaches the girl with her hand still outstretched.
He can't take my necklace… but… what happens if the lady gets in touch with him? The website didn't say this part...
YN nods slowly and takes off the silver necklace, handing it to the boss who closes her hand immediately before the girl could change her mind in the last seconds.
“Good girl, darling.” The figure approaches until their chests almost touch, when she notices that YN was looking at the door and not at her, the woman gently grabs YN's chin, making her look into her...his blue eyes.
“You know, darling….. you work a lot, you know? I'm very proud of you, that's why I'm giving you the afternoon off so you can spend it with your boyfriend.”
“My boyfriend….?”
“Of course, he's such a perfect man for you, isn't he? And he loves you so much, YN, he'd do anything for you.”
Come on, is he advertising himself well?
“…. yeah, he's…. like a dream to me.” The boss widens her eyes at YN's words.
“A perfect dream, isn't it? You don't want to wake up and live a nightmare, do you?”
Yn just nods and stays quiet, feeling the implicit threat in her boss's words on her skin. She grabs her black bag tightly and says goodbye to her boss, leaving the bathroom while the lights still flicker. Maybe if she had been brave enough to wait for her boss to leave, YN would have seen how much she was staggering in her daily high heels.
He's here! Why didn't the silver work? And I still had the big mouth to talk to the creature from the messages!
She sighs again and again, she quickly leaves the company. Who would she run to for help? She's new in town, few family members know, and involving anyone would be too dangerous… what do I do?
Where would I run to?
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown, she remembers someone saying this and to add to it she completes: This kind of fear is like a snake that eats piece by piece of your body without a specific order, today it devours your toenail and tomorrow - if it feels like it- it can devour your stomach entirelyallowing the acids in her stomach, fueled by anxiety and tension, to season the meat so she can swallow it with more satisfaction.
Driving distractedly, YN's gaze remembers Mr. Thomas's flower shop… and for now, this will be her refuge until she thinks of a plan. The flower shop is quiet, only with old music in the background while Mr. Thomas, the good old man, is preparing a bouquet…
"Oh, Miss YN, are you back already?" He greets her from afar
The young girl feels so lost now, not knowing what to do, she wanted it all to be a big misunderstanding so she could go back to the floating pink world she was in, but the knowledge that something non-human would be ready to kill her when she returns makes her little feet stay firmly on the ground, makes her take slow and distracted steps that take her straight to the alstroemerias, the same ones from yesterday, and points to the flowers.
“…. I'll have a bouquet of those, Mr. Thomas.” In a monotonous and almost empty tone, she asks, making the florist stop what he was doing and asks her to repeat, fearing that his age is already getting the best of his attributes
“What did you say, YN? What flowers will you want?”
“The alstroemerias….. make a pretty bouquet, okay?” She takes robotic steps to the counter, waiting for the elderly man to make the bouquet. She trusts that it will be a beautiful bouquet of alstroemerias…. but for some reason she doesn't even know why she chose those flowers. The elderly man is experienced and knows that each flower has its meaning, but mainly the emotion of the person choosing the flower and the bouquet says more than they realize.
Mr. Thomas picks the best flowers from the astromelia and looks for some more to make a beautiful bouquet, at least to cheer up the poor girl. The old man takes the flowers to the counter to choose the wrapping and some messages and finds YN sitting, simply staring at the floor with her head down, distracted, with an anxious look on her face.
“YN, what paper do you want for the wrapping? The usual?”
Why hasn’t he killed me yet?
“YN? Are you listening to me, little one?”
Why didn’t he pretend to be my boyfriend… treat me so well? What are his intentions?
“YN!” in a louder but still soft tone the old man catches the girl’s attention
“O-oh, sorry Mr. Thomas… I’m just thinking about things. The wrapping paper will be…” she can’t think of anything, her mind wandering between unanswered questions and anxiety in her chest “Why don’t you choose? I know you’ll look for what best matches the flowers.” The girl smiles and pushes the decision to the florist who sighs worriedly
“Oh dear…. what's going on with you? Are you feeling okay?”
Please don't ask me that… not today…
“I'm fine but… I'm feeling… stressed. Work stuff, you know?” She pulls a hair behind her ear, as if she were tidying up whatever mental mess she was apparently having.
The florist narrows his wrinkled eyes at the girl, reading her like a book, then he does the most comforting thing YN has received all day. He approaches her, placing a hand over hers, with deep empathy and genuine concern that makes YN's heart melt, finding a true safe haven in the words of the old man, who looks at her as if she were his own granddaughter.
“It's him, isn't it? What did he do to make you like this?”
“Oh Mr. Thomas…” speechless, the girl lets her eyes water as she stubbornly looks up, preventing some tears from coming out
“What did he do to you, YN? You were so fine yesterday… and today you seem so anxious and sad.” He softly tells the story of the events, careful not to scare or scare the girl
Think of an excuse, YN, quickly…..
“....Remember what I said yesterday about how he was drunk and high?” the real Kain “Well…. yesterday he….. yesterday he came home under the influence, you know? Acting strange……”
“Did he hit you?”
“No… he hasn’t arrived yet.” The girl whispers almost inaudibly as she thinks about the possibilities
“… And, are you afraid of him?”
The girl, with no more strength to speak, closes her mouth and nods quickly as her heart races.
“I’m going to get something for you, keep an eye on the store, okay?” he whispers softly as he walks to get something from somewhere in the store.
Moments later a female voice is heard entering the flower shop.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Thomas!”
YN had never been a religious person, but she could thank God for sending Sister Martha at that moment. In a new city and trying to find independence away from her family, there were few people she knew and had made sincere friends with. Coincidentally, a childhood friend had recently become a nun and was being assigned to the church in the new city. The sister was wearing her church uniform, her curious eyes searching for the elderly figure to pick up some flower order for a temple decoration.
“Oh, YN! What a pleasant surprise!” the woman smiled immediately upon seeing YN at the counter, giving her friend a tight hug while bringing an air of purity and warmth with her “Long time no see, girl!”
“Yes, Martha… I missed you so much!” YN hugs back and lets her friend's genuine warmth invade her. After a few moments of hugging, her friend slowly pulls away and looks at YN with a worried look.
“What happened, YN? How are you?”
“Nothing, sis…”
“There's no point in hiding it from me, tell me what happened!”
If it were anyone else, Martha would have talked better in a friendly and non-invasive way, but being Yn, she doesn't mince her words.
“Last week I saw you and you looked like a model, why are you so… like that? Who's the funeral?”
My.... Martha, it's going to be my funeral.
“It was him, Martha…” she reluctantly confesses, avoiding her friend's gaze.
“Him? Who is he? Ooooh…. your boyfriend.” Sister Martha had never liked the real Kain and even after his return with YN was nothing but flowers and wonders, she was very suspicious. “Your demon boyfriend.”
An idea popped into YN's head, like hope being born again. As a teenager, before becoming a nun, Martha was a curious and mischievous teenager, who looked for everything, including mythologies, magic, witchcraft, and the dark world that happens under the bed when children go to sleep. Nowadays, she fights spiritual wars, dealing with evil and good in a very physical and literal way. Maybe, just maybe… she can speak in some code so that her sister can understand.
"I'll invite you to exorcise him at my house then.” She jokes but knows that Sister Marta is seeing through her and YN hopes she reads the subtext
“I'll need a whole team to remove the evil inside Kain's body… that boy of yours is a complicated man.” She jokes
"Complicated defines him well."
The two laugh a little, lightening the mood, but Martha asks again in a more serious tone this time, whispering to her friend like secrets in a confessional......
“You… are you serious. Do you really think he's possessed by a demon?”
“I think he's something… worse than a demon.” You sigh worriedly and anxiously “it seems like someone else… you know?”
“YN…” the young nun widens her eyes, she has a slight idea of ​​what her friend is talking about but knows that the whole team doesn't have the capacity to solve this, it's something extremely dangerous and if not done right it could have bloody consequences. This should be dealt with by sorcerers, but YN needs something quick to deal with it
"Oh...."
“Oh my friend, I will pray for you. I promisse.” In an apopogetic tone with her mouth half closed, the nun apologizes as she walks away from the store, breaking YN’s heart and all the hope that had sprouted when she also understands the subtext of the sentence:
You are on your own.
The girl remains paralyzed, sitting on the bench so as not to lose her balance. She cannot think about how helpless and vulnerable she feels, as if she is in a philosophical debate about whether she should just accept it.
5 seconds later the nun returns to the store, looking agitated and anxious as she looks for YN, the girl feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
“YN!” she looks at the door then turns quickly, holding a package of leaves in the girl’s hand
“Myrtle. Myrtle tea - it's good for…. the cardiovascular system, for the skin, it's also good for stomach aches - and…. headaches and……” she searches for more answers while looking anxiously between the door and Yn's shaken face “Take this. It'll be good for you.”
The sister hugs Yn tightly and whispers seriously in her ear“Run away. Take this and get out of here.”
The nun still speaks loudly as she says goodbye again in an agitated manner “We'll be praying for you.”
YN is speechless with the sudden change in attitude and wonders if it was a message from God or if the nun saw something strange outside. Thoughtful, she doesn't notice when the old forester approaches with the colored papers for the bouquet and a surprise between them.
“Here you go, this paper will certainly enhance the tones of the flowers.”
“Oh, thank you very much!”
“Yn… I have something else for you.”
The old man puts a gun in YN's hand as he explains seriously, "They're just two silver bullets. One to distract him when that kid wants to threaten you and get out of line… the other for when he thinks you're a tough guy and you're putting your foot down on him."
Me… kill him? Are you telling me to kill him?
"Mr. Thomas, I don't think it's necessary…"
"There's no point in running away, girl."
He says so seriously that YN's smile falls and she looks at him with more questions than answers.
"You broke up the first time, and you got back together. You're trying to make things easier for him, and you're going to break up again, and then you're going to get back together again." He sighs painfully
"The cycle will only end when someone dies… and I don't want it to be you, girl."
The old florist was fed up with seeing rude boys pick beautiful flowers one day, and their parents come to buy funeral arrangements the next, apologies that turn into funeral invitations, beautiful flowers being crushed by ill-intentioned people, every day. Each story has a specific situation, but the cycle is the same: the girl dies in the end.
“With a man so obsessed with you, he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. He’ll go after you to the ends of the earth, YN.” The florist places his gentle hand on Yn’s hand and closes it, making the girl accept the gun firmly “This is for you to defend yourself… and end this cycle”
How ironic, from a place so full of life, YN left with two deadly objects in her bag and a beautiful bouquet in her hands.
--------
Unfortunately, the way from the florist to her boyfriend’s house is not very long and YN drives the motorcycle slowly as if she wanted to buy more time for the inevitable. In nature, the mother puts food in the mouths of the little birds because they cannot feed themselves and from one day to the next they are pushed off the branch to learn how to fly. YN feels exactly like this, her boyfriend took care of everything for her, from a hair out of place to more complex situations, in two weeks Kain had such a strong effect on YN's mind that she depended on him for everything and felt like she was floating in the clouds, without any thought or instinct for survival… now she feels pushed off the branch, struggling with her little wings to keep from crashing to the ground and fighting for survival.
When she reaches the door of the house with her heart beating fast, she realizes that she has no plan or strategy for this situation, just an instinct not to die.
It's him or me.
It's better to face madness with a plan than to sit still and let it take you in pieces. - the little voice in her head advises again
She could go back to her own house, but he would follow her there. She could go somewhere full of people, but eventually the two of them would come face to face. It could be at any moment. It's just a matter of time to postpone the inevitable, the anxiety was eating her up inside, devouring her stomach while her mind fought not to sink into this storm, looking for possibilities in which it would come out on top.
Fuck this. Fuck you. Fuck Kain. Fuck everything.
She knocks on the door with a blank look and prepares herself for the worst, clutching her bag tightly.
Is this how the victims facing the guillotine felt? A straight line to death?
5 minutes later, the door remains closed and YN decides that she will open the door herself and enter the house.
"Excuse me…. Kain?" She leaves the bouquet in the living room while following the scent coming from the kitchen. She looks for him around the house and comes across a breathtaking scene: The handsome man is wearing an apron again, humming some music with his headphones while preparing something in the kitchen.
“L… is for the way you look at me” he stirs the pan with something gelatinous, completely immersed in the music.
“O… is for the only one I see…” almost like a spontaneous dance. Kain takes a tray from the fridge and unmolds little hearts and places them on a crystal tray.
“V… is very very… extraordinary.”
"E… is even more than anyone that you adore can….." her boyfriend pours the appetizing syrup over the little hearts, it's a bright red, a mouth-watering syrup. But not as much as Kain, he's wearing a formal white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow exposing his strong arms and jeans that are tighter on the thighs, his locks are messy in an attractive way. For a minute her instinct tells her to bite him all over, mark every little bit of that juicy body and forget any stupid plans. His eyes widen when they see that his beloved has already arrived, taking off his headphones and meeting her at the kitchen door.
"Oh, my dear! Are you here yet?" he wipes his hands on a dish towel and takes off his apron, and hugs her, a smell of sugar mixes with his irresistible cologne.
"…yes, yes… what are you doing?" YN takes a moment to compose herself
“It was supposed to be a surpriseeeeee~” he whines, placing his head on her shoulder “I know you’re really stressed because of work, so I prepared a recipe for you to try.”
He leads her to the kitchen counter hand in hand before she can protest and takes one of the sweets from the tray, cooling it with a breath and placing it in front of YN’s mouth.
“Open your mouth, sweetheart~” with a hoarse voice he asks, placing the sweet in his girlfriend’s mouth “It’s delicious, huh? I prepared it with you in mind.” He whispers, keeping his eyes intense in her eyes, he licks his lips when she lets out a small sound of satisfaction
“It is…. but what did you put in here?” she feels her body go slowly limp and a strange heat starting to tingle through her body
“Nothing.” He grabs another sweet and eats it too, staring at YN as he holds her against the kitchen counter with strong arms “Just something to make you more excited… more relaxed” he squeezes her thighs, bringing her closer as he whispers in a sultry tone
“Let me take care of you, darling~” Kain presses a slow kiss to the girl's jaw
“You look so tense… what happened?” He could feel Yn's breathing intensifying, his own heart beating voraciously trying to keep his desire under control, needing to taste her once more, see her go crazy once more...
"W-wait, Kain…" with one hand on YN's delicate back, Kain pressed her tightly against him, taking her lips in a hungry and possessive kiss, frowning in desire, feeling the shivers on his body intensify
The juicy syrup was already delicious on its own, but when the creature put aphrodisiacs in it, it got even better. Everything was going well, everything was very good until the nosy boss spilled the beans, he dealt with it in his own way, but YN still remembered what happened the night before, he didn't know what exactly… but it was enough for her to move away from him unconsciously, wanting to be independent with that damned black bag, looking for answers to questions she shouldn't even be thinking about and worse… maybe she was planning to run away. He would never allow that.
The couple pulls away for air with YN biting her lower lip, making her let out a low moan “Oh my darling…. did you know I love you so much?” He presses their bodies even closer, practically glued together as his hand wanders inside her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her belly
"You're so beautiful…" he bites YN's ear in a hoarse voice "Did you know I would do anything for you, huh?"
"A-anything?"
"Yes, anything for you, my sweetie~" he goes back to kissing her with desire, his body trembling and writhing to touch every part of her, wanting more of her delicious love, sucking on her desire, wanting to get under her skin, molding her as if they were one flesh, isn't it beautiful?
He was hungry for her.
Every time she resisted a little as if she was coming to her senses, Kain would take another candy and put it in her mouth, and another… and another… until he was drunk with love in the valley of her breasts, with his pants getting tighter every second rubbing between YN's legs…..
"Oh my sweet Yn…. you're all mine huh?" he bites her neck "All of it. Heart and mind. Right?" he rubs harder
“I'm all yours, you know? All yours…. yours…” he murmurs a few more times in a low, hoarse voice
“I'm crazy about you…. I love you so much…” Kain's chest rises and falls hard, his breathing is heated as he moans lightly, his pupils extremely dilated as he observes YN's reactions, his gaze clouded by extraordinary sensations
“You love me too, don't you Darling?” smiling like a fool, Kain cups her cheeks making her look at him, it takes her a while to answer or even realize that he's talking to her “YN.”
“Hmm?”
“Do you love me?” this time his voice is more serious, hurt that she didn't answer at first. Is the spell being broken?
“…. I… love you, Kain.” She closes her eyes and answers, it was a painful truth and that in seconds, it would be nothing more than memories.
“I love you too, Yn,” he hugs her again affectionately, suffocating her with sweet words and his presence, “You don’t know how much.”
The fire dissipates soon after with such an intense makeout, leaving the ashes of what it consumed. YN feels disgusted and mentally tired, as if she had been trapped again.
Get a grip, YN, let’s go… there’s a killer in the house.
She washes her face and as if the neurons of audacity were being connected, as if the survival instinct spoke faster, she has an interesting idea.
“Honey, what flowers are those?” the male voice asks from the living room, looking with disgust at the beautiful bouquet of alstroemerias on the sofa.
YN turns on the fire and puts water to boil, putting some myrtle leaves in the water, making the smell slowly spread throughout the house. With a mischievous smile, she asks in a sweet voice.
“Honeey, bring it here to leave it there in the living room, please. I'll be right there.” He mentally curses the flowers, coughing and sneezing a lot as he grabs a nearby cloth and wraps his hands in it, taking the flowers to the other side of the room while YN stands at the kitchen door, debating internally whether he should continue with the plan in mind as she watches the scene.
He heads to the living room, sitting on the couch and gesturing for her to follow him. Meanwhile, his expression gently closes, showing a slight irritation with the flowers… and smelling a different scent in the air making him feel unbalanced, but he can't say what it is yet.
"Let's talk a little, my love. I feel like there's something bothering you."
"Yes, love… there's something I've been thinking about for a few days." She sits in the chair opposite him, her posture straight and rigid and her hands folded politely on her lap.
She mentally tells herself that she is strong and brave, and that this is not scaring her, when in fact her insides are screaming at her to get out of there and that this is just a serious conversation that every normal couple has.
Kain watches her with an expression of apparent interest and curiosity. He crosses his arms, his expression slightly closed as he listens to her speech.
"Oh, I'm curious. What were you thinking, love?"
What if I just break up with him and run away?
The handsome man waits expectantly for her to speak, although there is a slight tension noticeable in his body and expression. his fingers flapping on the couch like tired butterfly wings, an act that would normally make YN anxious and she would throw a pillow at him playfully as a tease. But not now. Not when she's closed like an old book, when her expression is hard to read.His eyes examine her carefully, looking for any sign of weakness or discomfort, wondering what he could do to solve this.
"You must have heard that saying, we all have skeletons in our closets…" she begins with the worst metaphor possible for a murderer, and as if she were slowly running her hand over a soft fabric, in a quick and unvarnished movement she asks:
"…and I've been wondering, is there something you're hiding from me?""
Kain straightens up in his chair as he listens to her, trying to appear calm and unconcerned. His gaze changes from curiosity to a slight discomfort inside.
"Ah, that saying… What makes you think I'm hiding something from you?" He tries to keep his voice soft, but there's a slight note of caution in his words
"I'll give you two options: Female instinct or survival instinct?" she asks, analyzing him, herself not knowing where to begin
Kain continues to look at her with a distressed expression as he tries to think of a way to make her understand. His voice comes out desperate as he tries to convince her to his side.
"Hmm, female instinct or survival instinct? It seems like you really want an explanation, love." He laughs and adjusts himself in the chair slightly. "Female instinct, come on. What are you saying?"
"Okay, let's go: You are not Kain… the real one." She calmly tells the fact that the skinwalker thought she would never find out, his smile falling and a surprised expression on his face.
"Who are you?" Kain's expression closes and his mask of calm and relaxation completely dissolves. His blue eyes widen slightly, showing a tone of surprise and fear inside.
After a brief pause, he answers with a voice that tries to be calm, but shows nervousness, the effect of the myrtle tea permeating the air makes Kain feel unbalanced in his powers and disguises, the magic becoming more difficult to maintain and an absurd hunger growing in his stomach.
"Me? I'm your boyfriend. The love of your life. The person you're going to spend the rest of your life with. What do you mean, asking me who I am?" he turns his head in a cute way with a scary connotation.
"Who are you?" YN asks again in a louder and more serious tone this time, standing up aggressively from the chair with her bag tightly clutched.
"The Kain I know died in a car accident!" YN spits out the fact, like a poison that needed to be released.
Her boyfriend watches her with a confused and nervous expression. Kain tries to think of an excuse or explanation, but he knows there's no way to get out of the situation, not after yesterday's gap, like pieces fitting together in a puzzle he knows she knows. After a few moments, he takes a deep breath, his voice coming out with a tone of resignation.
The house of cards has fallen. The bastille has been invaded. The spell has been broken. YN is fully awake now.
"Oh…"
"So you know." Kain continues, his voice taking on a more serious and possessive tone. "That makes things a little more complicated, doesn't it?"
"I won't hide from you anymore, sweetheart. I… I want you. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were special to me." Kain gets up from the couch and walks towards YN, who slowly moves away from him, watching him with a bitter look, no longer the passionate and loving look.
"I was watching you, admiring you. And finally, I managed to have you all to myself. But you're smarter than I had anticipated, love. More determined, harder to control. I admit it."
"So baby, I think our relationship should end….. what guarantees me that I won't be your next victim?" She quickly takes the gun out of her black bag and points the gun at him when she sees him transform into the monstrous appearance of the creature.
Kain watches her with a frustrated and threatening look, his voice becoming hoarse and deep as his body transforms into his true skinwalker form.
"Ohhh, baby, do you really think you can just break up with me like that, so easily? After everything I went through to have you?" his voice becoming hoarse and deeper as her body transforms into its true form
The creature gradually reveals its most hideous and repulsive appearance, stretching its body until it almost touches the ceiling, its hands becoming thinner and with prominent veins, its skin becoming terribly paler and with its color revealed, in certain places there are red and purple spots like bruises and in others, green spots like fungi in various parts of the body. The clothes torn by the transformation gave the girl the vision of the skin sticking together in some parts, delimiting the body in a terrible and pulled way, she could count how many ribs it had and the heart, as if swollen abnormally, makes a large bulge in the middle of the chest, she could count the beats clearly and a damn strong smell.
Faced with such horror, Yn lowered the gun slightly, and felt the acid in her stomach rise with such horror, the butterflies in her stomach were fake, they had transformed into spiders slowly scratching her throat. For a moment, she thinks she should have just dumped him on the bike and run away.
“You don’t frighten me,” said YN, although they did frighten her, very much.
The creature smiles.
“You are such interesting prey, love. So… tempting.” He approaches her, his voice taking on a more seductive tone.
Kain continues to approach her, his eyes shining with a mixture of desire and cruelty inside. His voice is soft but threatening and YN points the gun frightful at him again.
“You cannot avoid your fate, darling. You are mine. And I will not let you go so easily. You are my prey … And I will hunt you until the end of time if necessary.”
“Find someone else for this.” She says firmly as she walks away from him.
Kain takes two steps forward, YN takes three steps back.
They both dance in a tense and predatory rhythm.
The creature watches her with frustration as she move away from him. His body shows anger and aggression inside as he tries to think of a way to keep her close to him.
“Oh, my love, do you really think it will be that easy to get rid of me? You can try to escape, but I will always find you. And we will always find each other, even if I have to steal the skin of every person you see out there.” He roars determinedly “I will always hunt you. Don’t try to resist, love… It’s useless.”
“There’s no point in fighting, love. I am the darkness that inhabits the shadows, the creature that lives in horror stories. And you… You are my light, my obsession, my desire…"
He is now close to her, his voice taking on a more possessive and threatening tone as he sucks the shadows around him in a dark way, the horrifying creature feels stronger now and he makes sure to show it visibly, his body becoming larger and more muscular, the claws in his hands becoming large and sharp.
The poor girl's heart accelerates as her breathing becomes rapid and shallow and the feeling of desperation takes over her as she sees the creature's new form.
"You are my prey, love. And I will not stop until I have you as mine"
"My skin stays with me, thank you." YN says with anger in her eyes as she puts her finger on the trigger, the atmosphere is tense, and they both know that a fight will break out at any moment.
Kain watches her with frustration as his determination is challenged. His voice becomes harsher as he sees the gun in his girlfriend's hands.
"Oh, do you really think that this weapon will protect you from me? I'm older, more powerful, stronger than anything you've ever faced, love." He tenses, as if preparing to act at any moment."You can't beat me, love. No matter how much you try to resist…"
"I heard silver bullets are your weakness, love… let's find out together if this will work?" she says in a sarcastic tone.
Kain watches her with frustration as he realizes that she knows about his weaknesses. His expression closes, showing displeasure as he listens to her sarcastic provocation.
"Oh, you think it's very funny, don't you? But you don't know what I'm capable of doing to keep you tied to me. You don't know how cruel and desperate skinwalkers can be. I'll have you, love, no matter what it takes." At that exact moment there are frantic knocks on the door, making them stop immediately.
"YN, OPEN THE DOOR!"
It was old Thomas, the florist taking the place of the hunter in an old tale. The poor man, worried about the girl, decided to go check on YN's well-being. The situation must be very serious for her to have picked up the gun.
Oh…. no…..
YN looks at the door and at Kain.
Kain looks at the door and at YN.
Both surprised by Mr. Thomas's unusual visit to the house, but with different emotions.
YN is paralyzed by the idea of ​​him being in the middle of the shooting and the creature.
Kain smiles predatorily at the great opportunity in front of him.
"Ahh, it seems we have an unexpected visitor here, love." His gaze turns back to YN, his head turning horribly 180 degrees, his expression showing a slight tone of evil, licking his lips. "Maybe I should deal with him first, before he messes up our plans?"
"YN! TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!" the old man continues to scream outside, ignorant of the horrible situation inside the house.
The girl's breath catches in her throat, without moving a muscle, without any provocative response to retaliate against the creature, the gears in her brain stop momentarily as she weighs a possibility to remove Mr. Thomas from the scene, the loophole in her plan.
"Oh, my darling, you're worried about that nosy old man, aren't you? Will he ruin our little plans? Or will he just watch as I claim you as mine?" He uses an arrogant tone, with false sympathy as he watches his paralyzed girlfriend, he slowly approaches the door until he touches the handle.
"Don't. You. Dare." With a gritted teeth she threatens before she can think of the consequences. Kain watches her with frustration at her reaction. His hand is ready to open the door, but he hesitates at her determined voice. He looks at YN with an irritated look.
"Oh, you really think you're going to stop me from dealing with him, love? You don't know what you're messing with, sweetie."
YN's finger is on the trigger as she slowly approaches the creature, ready to shoot if necessary. "Leave Thomas out of this!"
Kain tenses as YN approaches him with her finger on the trigger of the gun, ready to fire at any moment. H
His expression closes as he watches her cautiously. "Ah, YN, you're braver than I ever imagined." He tries to maintain control of the situation, although there's a note of desperation in his voice that he tries to disguise with arrogance by raising his chin.
"What are you going to do, love? Are you going to shoot me? I'm faster than you."
"But not faster than a bullet."
Kain tenses when he hears the determination in her voice, the cutting words almost hurting him. His expression closes as he knows she's serious, YN has always been very determined and attentive to details, it was difficult to get into her life and he wasn't going to get out that easily.
"Oh love, are you really serious? Are you really capable of shooting me if necessary? I thought you loved me."
The old man knocks on the door again.
"YN, if you don't say you're okay, I'll break into the house myself!" Mr. Thomas threatens and Yn sighs again, knocking more frantically on the door, making her shiver.
Kain observes YN's frustration and fear as the old man continues to knock on the door. His evil mind works quickly and he realizes the delicious opportunity opening up before him. With a malicious look, he takes advantage of the situation.
"Oh, honey, it seems our friend isn't very patient, is he? Will he really come in if you don't answer?"
Oh my god Thomas…… what did you come here to do? How do I get out of this situation?
"Tik tok, little princess~ it's rude to keep visitors waiting. Aren't you going to answer?"
What if he comes in? Will he be another victim of this creature? Will Kain make a show of devouring him in front of me or the other way around?
THINK YN THINK
"I'm curious to know how this night will end… you or the old man? Do you want me to choose?" With her delay, the skinwalker walks to the door, steps light as a feather while the bones creak and move from place to place while walking in a bizarre way. When Kain puts his hand on the doorknob threatening to turn it, she screams without thinking twice.
"M-MR. THOMAS!" she lets out a scream that she had been holding in since the beginning of the conversation
"…. I….. I'm fine! I'll explain it to you by message later, okay? Have a good night!" She trembles all over when she hears the friendly florist say goodnight back to her, his footsteps receding and echoing in the silent night.
YN allows a momentary wave of relief to wash over her, telling herself that the important thing is that the old man is safe and out of the picture. Kain huffs in anger but inside he is smiling proudly, holding YN where he wants her, but when he turns around he finds her not shaking with fear or more sensitive because of the threat to the old man but finds the young woman remaining vigilant and with the gun, her arms hurt from holding the gun so tightly but she fears that the moment she lowers it she will be killed.
Do not take your eyes off the thing under any circumstances. Do not take your eyes off the thing under any circumstances. Do not take your eyes off the thing under any circumstances.
Her mind works quickly to come up with a plan of action, the mental gears working hard to overcome the lock. She knows that facing a creature with supernatural powers will not be an easy task, but she tries to remain calm even with the fear running through her veins. She tries to remember something she saw on the internet to help her, but her mind is blank, only focusing anxiously on the horrible figure in front of her.
"You're so stubborn, love. I'm trying to show mercy, but you insist on being difficult, don't you? I'm starting to get tired of your stubbornness. Let's see how long you can resist, princess." He huffs, slowly approaching her, like prey stalking prey until they are both close, his body bending inhumanly until he is at her level.
His voice booms in Yn's ears, as if bringing her back to reality and her surroundings.
As YN observes the locked door, an idea springs to her mind, she remembers that the bedroom window is open, which could offer an opportunity for escape… or distraction.
But Kain knows her very well.
"You know I'm faster than you." He immediately stops his train of thought by crossing his arms, the smell of myrtle still present in the room like a toxic and poisonous perfume. Her plan to try to escape through the window is unexpectedly interrupted when the creature intercepts his thoughts, speaking softly as it crushes any and all hope of YN, leaving her with one last and morbid solution.
"Are you really thinking of trying to escape through the window? I think you know that I am faster than you, my love. That would be useless."
"But you are not faster than a bullet." She repeats the phrase she said earlier, Yn's arms tremble painfully from holding on so much, but her gaze is more precise and focused now. Upon hearing her threat, the skinwalker lets out an irritated sigh. This story again?
"Oh, you are really going to threaten me with that thing? I told you I'm invulnerable to firearms," ​​he says, his voice turning cold and calculating. "Unless you want to make a huge mistake, you should put that gun down."
"You may be invulnerable… But I'm not." YN smiles as if she's won and points the gun at her own head.
The skinwalker's grim expression is immediately replaced by a look of shock and concern as you point the gun at yourself.
"Hey, hey! Stop it!" he barks orders, his voice surprisingly alarmed. "What do you think you're doing?!" The creature approaches you, clearly anxious about what you're about to do
"Please, put that rifle down!" he insists, trying to remain calm despite the tense situation, his blue eyes almost popping out of his misshapen head. "You don't want to do this, trust me."
"You're not giving me a choice, my dear, and desperate people do desperate things." YN shakes like a leaf in the wind and her eyes start to water again, but her entire aura shows his unwavering purpose.
He – the thing – can feel it.
"No, please don't think like that," he begs. "What you're doing is a mistake. We just need to talk and come to an agreement, okay? It doesn't have to be this way, my love. Please put that rifle down." The creature feels its own inhuman heart stop and with great pain and discomfort it returns to the humanoid form that YN was used to - the perfect boyfriend, Kain, extending his hand in a gesture of supplication
"Let's think it over, okay? We can talk, negotiate, anything. But please put that gun down. It won't help at all. Let's talk."
Now he's getting to where I want to go… let's negotiate: my freedom
"I know this whole situation is complicated," the boyfriend adds, clearly trying to remain calm. "But it doesn't have to end like this. Let's talk, find a solution, okay? There's no need to despair. Please put that rifle down." Kain grows even more tense as he watches the situation unfold before him. His words come out more insistent now as he desperately tries to think of a way to reverse the situation.
"Oh, honey, don't do this. You don't have to go that far. I can change, I can be less scary." He approaches her, his gaze filled with desperation as he tries to take the gun from her hands, slowly approaching her as the two walk unconsciously to the kitchen.
"Less scary, Kain? It's not about looks, but about your skeletons in the closet. I'm. not. going. to. be. next." She says, stamping her foot on the floor to punctuate her arguments.
Kain continues to look at her with a distressed expression as he tries to think of a way to make her understand. His voice comes out desperate as he tries to convince her on his side.
"Oh, love, I know I have my skeletons in the closet, but you don't have to go that far. I can change, I can be different for you. I won't hurt you, I'm not the monster you think I am."
"What guarantees that, creature?"
Ouch.
YN asks him, everything she read on the internet was that they were lying and sadistic creatures, how can she see such desperation and genuineness in his blue eyes?
Kain continues to look at her with anguish as he tries to formulate words that can convince her. His hands tremble as he hears her words ‘creature’ so venomously and cruelly, as if the two of them didn’t have a love story together - this one, which YN doesn’t even know half of the obsession.
“Love, I swear, I’m different from the others. I’m not a liar or a sadist. I only came after you because I wanted you, I just wanted to have you for myself.” He pauses briefly and continues to look into her eyes, desperately trying to make her see the truth in his words.
“Please, love, trust me. I won’t hurt you, I just want to have you. I just want to protect you and take care of you. I'm different from the others… You need to believe me."
Liar liar liar
In a moment of distraction, the pot with herbs that weaken the creature dries up and all the water evaporates, causing the herbs to start burning, drawing YN's attention. Taking advantage of the moment when the girl's eyes quickly observe the pot, Kain runs and takes the gun from her, throwing it under the table while hugging her and containing her in his strong arms.
"Ah, love, I finally managed to make you stop. You don't know how worried I was about you." His voice sounds soft as he hugs her tighter while taking them both to the floor.
Run awayrun awayrun awayrun away
"Let me go! Let go of me! HELP! SOMEONE! LET ME GO!" He hugs her tighter as he continues to speak in her ear sweetly.
"I know you were desperate, I know you were afraid of me. But you don't have to be afraid, love. I will never hurt you. I'm your boyfriend, I just want to take care of you and protect you."
"Let me go! Let me go!" she struggles in his arms. Kain continues to hug her as she struggles in his arms. His hands grip her tighter as he tries to hold her.
"No, my dear, I won't let you go. You're too desperate, and I won't let you go." He tries to calm her down as he continues to hug her, his voice comes out soft but determined.
YN continues to scream and tears of deep despair come from her eyes, she claws at Kain's arms as she tries to drag herself out of the desperate prison that is the creature's love.
"Shhh, love, you need to calm down. I know you're scared, but it doesn't have to be this way. I'll take care of you, I'll protect you like I've always done until now. You need to trust me."
"Are you going to protect me from what if the one who can kill me here is you? You fucking liar!" she stops screaming momentarily to retort to him, her hoarse throat thanks her.
Kain continues to hug her protectively as she desperately tries to get out of his arms, like a cat would try to get out of its owner's arms. His hands hold her tighter as he tries to explain his situation with sweet words, suffocating her with love and kindness as he holds her hands so that YN doesn't hurt him anymore, the small scratches she made were nothing compared to Kain's broken heart.
"My darling, you don't understand. I don't want to hurt you, I want to protect you from other creatures… and from yourself. You are safe with me. Trust me. Don't you like this world? Stay here and with me."
"Liar! Let me go! Let me go!" YN feels her eyes burning and the body with thorns piercing her soft skin, her air being suffocated with each passing minute painfully, as if he were in everything and every shadow in the kitchen watching her from every angle.
“Nana baby…… Cuca's coming to get you…. ...Đ₳ĐĐɎ ₩Ɇ₦₮ ₮Ø ₮ⱧɆ ₣₳Ɽ₥, ₥Ø₥₥Ɏ ₩Ɇ₦₮ ₮Ø ₩ØⱤ₭……
Eventually, after struggling in the man's arms and crying desperately for hours, Kain sings the strange and hypnotic song to calm YN, and finally finally she reluctantly falls asleep in Kain's arms.
Please Marta, fulfill your promise and pray for me.
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Tags: @buniwtch @spookynotkid @aminekun009 @twinklingbeautifulstars @heizouislife @cheesecakeyuri @hewhehe @sumeyyeecrin
(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥
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ckret2 · 17 hours
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@space-bowl Hi you didn't ask for an essay on this! But I happen to have a detailed headcanon, canon citations, and a piece of art I'm currently eager to procrastinate on so I wrote one anyway!
I base the headcanon that Bill isn't a very good artist on the canonical self-portraits he makes in Journal 3 while possessing Ford:
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That looks like the Euclidean equivalent of stick figures to me. I'm not impressed by his artistic prowess.
We know he didn't smuggle out the book he's working on in Theraprism. The Theraprism staff says "you have been contacted through this book against our rules" and includes a photo of Bill working on the journal—if the book was in their hands when they spied him working on it and confiscated it to write a letter in it, then they wouldn't have let it leave the Theraprism. So TBOB is already outside Theraprism when the staff finds Bill making contact with the readers. Plus Ford already knows TBOB exists at the beginning of the book—meaning it was already out in the world before Bill's death.
And so: the book Bill's working on in Theraprism is a different book, through which he (and then the staff) is making psychic contact with TBOB and manipulating TBOB's contents. TBOB never came into Theraprism, and the book Bill was working on in arts & crafts never left Theraprism.
And he SAYS at the start of the book he's manipulating TBOB's contents remotely. When he describes what the book contains, right beside the table of contents, one of the items is:
"Paper" made from pressed, pureed human brain matter. I can invade anything with neurons, so I can project anything I want in here!
In the photo of him working on his end of this TBOB tin-can-telephone, he's beaming his thoughts straight from his mind onto the page (and, presumably, through that page to our page):
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On top of that, note what his supplies are: paper, scissors, tape, and glue. We see a clipped-out picture and bits of paper pasted into the journal. He only has one black marker, no other drawing/coloring materials. The journal Bill's making in Theraprism isn't a sketchbook: it's a scrapbook.
And the one time we see Bill deliberately focus on the graphic design aspect of the book, the end result is...
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Graphic Design Is My Passion-looking ass.
So here's what I believe: the contents of The Book Of Bill are made up half of a collage of cut-up papers and pictures Bill pasted into his end of the book (magazine pages, textbook pages, newspaper clippings, chapter 2 of The Great Gatsby, etc) and then psychically altered the text of to suit his needs; and half of images that Bill projected straight from his mind onto the pages without needing to actually do any art (such as every time Bill himself pops onto the page to talk directly to the reader).
Still requires a little graphic design work on his end; but if he's largely just slapping down pages of somebody else's completed graphic design work, that takes a lot of the required skill out of it. Definitely doesn't require him to know how to draw.
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fandomxo00 · 3 days
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can you do a headcannon about Hugh getting reader pregnant and he’s like “omg how am I gonna have a kid at 55!?” But reader tells him he’s gonna be great and Hugh is like all dad mode now
hope this makes sense 😭😭
note: i'm so deulu is not funny, when i was younger i would come up with these same time of plots where like i'm related to a celebrity so i meet famous ppl and whatever or literally anything, ive come up hundrds of scenarios while i was playing outside, completely enveloped in the world. if i did that now....well lets just say im not going to and can go into so much detail when writing that its so much better.
Hugh never thought he was gonna be a father again, he never that he would have a biological child. It wasn't a loss for him, he loved his children so much. But he's nervous about how he was going to fit to your standards. He had many mistakes the first time around, and this was different for him. The love he has for you is something he hadn't ever felt before, he did need more children but Hugh wanted to give you everything. You didn't come from a loving family, you didn't feel safe for such a long time, in the beginning of the relationship you couldn't believe that he actually liked you.
You didn't think you were his type and you were in your early thirties. You'd met through the grapevine, your little sister, Gracie was getting really close with Taylor. The two of you being huge fans, you couldn't believe the two actually connected. You were closer to Taylor's age than Gracie was and the two of you became fast friends. She even invited you to help with The Era's Tour, being one of the backstage managers. That's when you met Hugh, he'd been heading towards divorce with his wife for a long time, and they were in the middle of it. You were hesitant when he was confident and respectful, the two of you getting to know each other better through different dinners and hangouts before you officially started going out with him when the divorce was finalized.
But after that things moved pretty quickly and within two years you were married to him, and deeply in love. Hugh couldn't believe that he had met you know. He'd wish that you had been a little older and he could've met you sooner. When he met you, there was this innate attraction and comfortably around each other. You were never comfortable around people you didn't know well, but Hugh made it seem like he'd known you forever. He knew about what you wanted, and he didn't even hesitate when it came to you. There wasn't anything that Hugh wouldn't do for you and vise versa.
Even though he wanted to give you children one day, he didn't realize it would be so soon. Though it wasn't and you'd been trying for awhile when you finally got a positive pregnancy test. You were so excited, even in your mood swings, weird pregnancy craves, and constant pain literally everywhere. Hugh did everything to soothe you asking you what you needed and doing that exactly for you. Listening to you carefully especially when you were so upset you were crying over something as simple as a snack or spilling a glass of water. Taking care of you reminded him of what his past looked like and what his future would consist of. He felt a warmness come over him as he did some refreshers on different parenting books. Going through a list of questions with you, things that were important for your parenting journey. It was important to compromise and listen to each other.
But one night he let out that he was indeed nervous, "I mean I'm 55, what if I'm not good at this, anymore? What if I can't be a good husband and a good dad? I mean look what happened-." He rambled, as your hand came up to his cheek. Hugh's hand coming to round pregnant belly, as you looked into his eyes.
"You are a great dad, and a great husband. And the difference between when you did this with your ex and me, is that our love is different. Right? You always told me that."
"Yeah baby, our love is different." Hugh hummed, leaning in to lightly kiss your lips.
The two of you balanced each other, it wasn't that you couldn't handle yourself without him. But rather it was just easier to be when you were with him. When you feeling like you were lacking he never forgot to remind you how valued and how much you meant to him. You tried to do the same, trying to give him hope at the end of the tunnel.
@ me for forgetting to tag ppl : @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland
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dovesdreaming · 2 days
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Catching you
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Summary: when you get injured while play fighting with Logan he won’t hear that your fine when your bleeding.
Request
Masterlist
Warnings: blood
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It started out innocently enough. A typical lazy afternoon in the cabin Logan had taken you to, his way of escaping the world for a while, away from the noise and chaos of cities and battles. The air was crisp with the scent of pine, and the afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting a warm glow over the wooden floor of the cozy living room. You were sprawled out on the couch, teasing Logan from across the room as he sharpened his claws, something he did when he needed to keep his hands busy. He had that gruff look on his face, like always, but you knew him well enough by now to see the flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Those things are dull by now, right?” you joked, eyeing the adamantium claws as they caught the light. He snorted, rolling his eyes. “They ain’t toys, darlin’. You keep runnin’ your mouth, you might find out firsthand”. You raised a brow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh, is that a challenge?”.
Logan glanced up at you, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. “You sure you wanna go down that road?”. Without missing a beat, you hopped off the couch, lunging playfully at him. You weren’t afraid of Logan, not anymore. Sure, he was all rough edges and tough talk, but you’d long since figured out that beneath that exterior, he was gentle with you in ways no one else ever got to see. You aimed for his midsection, a teasing jab, but Logan caught your wrist effortlessly, his strength always a bit shocking despite his casual stance. “Not bad” he said, holding your arm in place, “but you gotta do better than that”. “Oh, I will” you shot back, wriggling free and circling around him, your playful energy sparking off his calm demeanor.
For the next few moments, it was all in good fun a back-and-forth dance of dodging and light grappling, with you laughing every time he effortlessly blocked your attempts to catch him off guard. His smirk was infuriating, but also endearing. That was, until it happened. In one swift motion, you tried to tackle him again, but your foot caught the edge of the rug, sending you stumbling forward faster than expected. Before either of you could react, you collided hard with the coffee table, the sharp edge catching the side of your head.
The moment you hit the floor, the playfulness in Logan’s eyes vanished. His claws retracted instantly as he knelt beside you, hands already searching for the source of your pain. “Shit” Logan muttered, his voice tight with concern. “You okay?”. You winced, clutching your head. The sting was sharp, and when you reached a hand upwards your hand came back into view with a trickle of blood on your fingers. Your head spun as you said “I’m fine” trying to wave him off with a laugh that came out more strained than you intended. “Just... underestimated the furniture”. But Logan wasn’t having it. His brow furrowed deeply as he gently brushed your hand aside to inspect the wound. It wasn’t deep, but it was enough to have him worried, and Logan didn’t like seeing you hurt. Not ever. “Let me see” he said, his tone soft but insistent, one of his large hands steady on your shoulder as he examined the cut. “It’s not bad, but you’re bleedin’”. You tried to shrug it off, but Logan was already in caretaker mode. He stood up, grabbing a nearby towel and pressing it gently against the cut on your head, his eyes never leaving you as he worked.
“Logan, really, it’s nothing” you protested, though the warmth of his touch and the concern in his gaze was enough to make your heart skip a beat. “You sayin’ I shouldn’t care?” he muttered, his voice rough but low, the gravelly edge of it somehow soothing as he sat down beside you. “You’re hurt, and that’s enough for me to care”. You met his eyes, his expression a mixture of irritation and worry. The guilt in his gaze made your chest tighten, knowing that he blamed himself for something as small as a cut. “You didn’t hurt me, Logan. It was my fault. I got careless”. He shook his head, sighing as he pressed the towel against your side, holding it there with a tenderness that still surprised you sometimes. “Doesn’t matter. You’re still hurt. And I don’t like seein’ that”. You reached up, your hand brushing against his stubbled jaw. “You’re way too hard on yourself, you know that?”. He scoffed, but the tension in his shoulders eased a little as he leaned into your touch. “Yeah, well.. somebody’s gotta be”.
After a moment, he helped you sit up, still holding the towel to your head. His hand found the back of your neck, his fingers threading gently through your hair as he pulled you close, his forehead resting against yours on the non injured side. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. “You scare me sometimes, you know that?” he murmured, his voice gruff and low. “Not cause you’re reckless, but.. cause I don’t know what I’d do if somethin’ happened to you”. Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, Logan. I’ve got you to look after me, remember?”. He huffed a soft laugh, his arms tightening around you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Damn right you do”.
For a while, the two of you stayed like that—wrapped in each other, the worry and tension melting away with the comfort of his embrace. You felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, and the familiar scent of him; Leather, whiskey, and the faint scent of pine grounded you. “Guess I should be more careful next time we spar” you murmured after a while, a teasing lilt in your voice. Logan pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression softening in that way only you ever got to see. “Next time, maybe don’t fight dirty” he said with a smirk, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Or I’ll start winnin’”. You grinned, your fingers tracing over his hand where it rested on your side. “Oh, please. Like you ever let me win”. He leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss before he murmured, “I always let you win, darlin’”. You smiled against his lips, feeling safe, cared for, and more loved than you’d ever thought possible. Logan may have been rough around the edges, but with you, he was all warmth and tenderness, always ready to catch you even when you stumbled on your own. And in moments like this, it was all the proof you needed that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
-
Thank you for reading!!
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adilynnyuri · 2 days
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Just easy like that!
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Let me ask you to do something!
Count numbers from 1-10 or say the english Alphabets! Would you say it instantly right when I asked you or will you take time thinking "it's too tough" Or saying that "I don't know if I can do that"
I know damn well you will say that shi immediately because you have assumed or considered saying numbers from 1-10 or saying English alphabets is very easy for you, effortless shi which you can say even while closing your eyes.
Because that's your assumption about it. Keepin it simple. Why can't you do the same to your "bigger manifestations" Or even "shifting"
Start assuming! Start affirming! Shit is easy!
"Everything/Everyone in this fucking world is easy for me to have or be just like saying numbers/alphabets"
And that's why no matter what, nothing can give you any stress/resistance at any instance! Because everything and everyone around you is controlled by you. Thus, manifesting anyone/anything is too easy peasy so Everything will- MUST happen exactly like how you say because it's tooooooo easy for a hawt baddie like you!
With lots of love,
ADILYNN YURI🤍🌷
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darnell-la · 2 days
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can we get some nsfw of logan heavily infantilizing reader? i know he's a mean mean man and i want him to make us cry 🥺 just wanna be doted on but also fucked like a beast
note: Logan is a very nasty individual in this story. He’s degrading, calls the reader out of her name many times, fucks rough, is manipulative, possessive, and more…
having Logan Howlett claim you are one of the best-given things that could happen.
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How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!
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“You’re so fuckin’ childish, y/n, do you know that!? So fuckin’ childish!” Logan shouted at the girl as he placed her into his passenger seat. The man slammed the door in her face before walking around to the car.
Y/m scoffed as she crossed her arms, knowing she was wrong for what she’d done tonight, but at least she had fun.
Logan treats y/n like she has no idea what the world is like. Wade speaks to him, telling him he should take it easy because is his friend. Not Logan’s.
“Well, if I’m gonna stay in an apartment with two kids, I expect them to have manners and respect. If not, then I’m out of here,” Logan threatened a few months ago when he first got here.
Y/n had come home drunk out of her mind at three in the morning after Logan and Wade had been worried all night.
Her phone had died. She explained that to them, and Wade understood, but when she came through that door smiling, laughing, and giggling with the friend who dropped her off, it triggered Logan.
“I know pay the bills, and the apartment is his, but I’ll kick you the fuck out, kid,” Logan threatened as he got into the car and started it up, ready to get home and rest without stressing about y/n.
“I’m a grown woman, Logan. If I wanna go out and get drunk with my friends, I can!” Y/n turned towards the man just to yell before turning back towards the door, looking out of the window.
“What kinda fun is that, y/n? You’re a college student, you’ve got classes in the afternoon, you need to study, but instead, you’re out almost every weekend, pissy drunk and begging for a man to touch you,”
“What!? I don’t even go out with men! I reject them all,” y/n said, confused about why he even cared about her getting with anyone.
“Sure you don’t. Every time I pick you up or you walk through that door, you’re dressed sluttier. Every fucking time!” Logan yelled, hands groping the wheel as he drove through the city to head home.
“At this point, you’re just stressing yourself out. Let me live my life like I let you, okay? Fuck!” Y/n complained.
“So slutting around is living life now? God, you kids are fucking dumb,” Logan shook his head. “I don’t slut around!” Y/n basically screamed at the man.
“Lower your fucking tone when you talk to me, young lady!” Logan looked her way. The anger in his voice made her back up, trying to keep a straight face, but it was hard.
“Always fuckin’ yellin'. Can you ever shut the fuck up for once? Just do better in life and shut the fuck up — Grow up! Because you’re a-fucking-nnoying,” the man got out.
Y/n looked out of the window in silence, holding back her tears as the man continued.
“Be a fuckin’ lady, and respect yourself for once. For once!” He hit the wheel, making the girl jump. “Respect me!” The man hit the wheel again, but harder.
Y/n wiped a tear from her cheek quickly so he wouldn’t notice, but he did. Once he did, the man laughed to himself. “Unbelievable,” the man shook his head, disappointed in her.
“You can yell at me, but when I start yellin’ and tellin’ you what you look like, you start carrying. Fucking pathetic. Seriously!”
Logan didn’t mean to hurt the girl's feelings. He was just angry. He hated seeing her out and doing things he didn’t want her to do. Why can’t she just listen to him? Why does she need other people to make her happy when she has Wade and him at home.
The rest of the car ride was silent. Y/n wouldn’t sniff here and there, but low so she wouldn’t start Logan up again. She was embarrassed and disappointed in herself.
Right as Logan parked the car, y/n pulled on the handle to get out, but he had locked the door before she could.
“Looks y/n-“ Logan went to say, but y/n cut him off. “Let me out,” y/n said with a stern voice. “Y/n, just hear me out-“ he tried to say again. “Let me out!” She yelled, not even looking at the man.
“Hey!” Logan reached for her arm and grabbed it tightly. Y/n tried yanking herself away, but he was stronger. “Let me go!” Y/n yelled, only angering the man further. He had become obvious to the strength he had.
“Ow, Logan!” Y/n shouted at the man, but all he did was grip harder. “Stay still, y/n!” Logan demanded. “You're hurting me!” She finally said as tears streamed from her eyes.
The way she looked at the man in pain, not just from his grip, but more so from his words. Looking into his eyes, he realized he had gone too far.
“Y/n,” Logan said low as she fought the man, slapping his hand, but he wouldn’t let go. He only loosened his grip. “Let me go!” She could barely yell, only cry.
Logan shifted his body and lifted his other hand to cup her cheek. When he did, she tried shaking her head to get him off, but it wouldn’t leave.
“Please!” She cried, but Logan didn’t let her leave. All he did was let her arm go, only to push her seat back and hover over her quickly, the other hand still on her cheek.
“Baby, don’t cry,” Logan said, but she couldn’t stop. She sobbed as she weakly slapped Logan’s body, telling him to leave her alone, but that was the last thing he was going to do.
“Baby, look at him — It’s okay, just look at me,” Logan said as he placed the other hand on her other cheek, forcing her to look at him.
“I’m sorry, y/n, okay? I’m sorry,” Logan spoke. That was when y/n cried harder with no words. “Aw, baby,” Logan said, trying to wipe her tears away, but they kept rolling.
“All I wanted was for you to be safe, baby. That it. It’s dangerous out here. You can’t just be goin’ out every night, looking the way you do. You just can’t,” Logan said.
“If you wanna drink, we got it at the house. You know that. No more goin’ out, and you won’t look like this anymore,” he said, hoping to manipulate her into staying in the house, and in his sight.
“Hey, hey, calm down,” Logan said and kept repeating until she ducked in her cries. It took her a while, but she managed.
“Please understand that I want you safe, y/n. Do you understand that?” Logan asked. Y/n slowly nodded her head with a sniff, making him smile slightly.
“That’s it, baby. All I want is for my baby to be safe — No more goin’ out after tonight. Maybe with me, but I have to be by your side. It’s too dangerous,” he said.
“B-But my friends,” y/n sniffed. “They’ll be fine, baby. They love you and will understand. You want me to trust you and not be stressed out, right? You want me to be? I’m gettin’ old, and ion needa be stressin’ about my girl,” Logan said.
Y/n nodded her head, halfway understanding what he wanted, but not fully. She didn’t ask though. She just knew by the way he always acted that he wanted her in sight and safe with no funny business.
“Good, baby, good,” Logan said, looking into the girl's eyes as she looked back up at him, eyes bloody and eyelashes batting.
“You’re too pretty to be seen without me, baby, and you know that, don’t you? Don’t you, baby?” Logan asked, making her nod again.
“That's right, and you're sorry for disobeying me, right?” He asked. The way he spoke to her, made her feel like she’s actually done something wrong.
“S-Sorry,” she said low. A groan slipped past the man’s lips at her words and voice. She was too sweet to believe she was real.
“Ah huh, and are you gonna show me just how sorry you are?” He asked. Y/n surprisingly nodded quickly, wanting him to know that she meant nothing personal by the way she lived.
“Good girl — Now turn around for me,” Logan said. Her mind wasn’t honking straight, but she did as told, apologizing for her body rubbing on his as she did so. “It’s okay, baby - You’re all good,”
“I’m just a little angry, and you understand that, right? It’s acceptable to why I am, right, baby?” He asked her, making her him with a nod.
“Ah huh, and you’re gonna help me relax, right, baby?” He asked and she repeated what she had done before, but more shaky. “That right,”
Logan began unbuckling his belt, watching the girl underneath him shiver from how drunk she was, the cold air coming through the cracked window, her crying session, and the confusion of this situation.
“Never listenin’ to me, baby. I don’t like that,” Logan said before giving y/n a hard slap on her ass that was covered in her tight thin dress. A whine had slipped from her mouth, only making the man groan.
“Yeah, and I’m gonna bring all this anger right out on and into you, baby,” Logan said as he pulled himself out. “And guess what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna lay here, and take it like the disrespectful little slut you are,”
Y/n whined at his words, feeling shitty for not being respectful towards the older man, but she’ll soon understand to listen.
“Every time I pick you up or watch you walk through those doors, you’re fuckin’ soaked. I just know you’re out and about, waiting for some random man to offer his cock,”
“I know you’re whore enough to take it too, now ain’t you?” Logan asked. “N-No,” y/n shook her head with a whine as he pulled her dress up, revealing her dark wet patch.
“Sure you’re not, baby. You know the drunk sluts always say that, right? Until they’re caught being stuffed and fucked in some bar bathroom,”
Y/n whined again at his comment about what he thought of her as his fingers hooked around her pants. The man pulled his fingers back, causing the panties to rip perfectly.
“You wanna be treated like some dirty slut at the bar?” Logan asked as he put his cock in his hand. “No,” y/n truly spoke, but he didn’t believe her.
The man grabbed a handful of her hair and then pushed her head into the seat. “Are you sure, baby? Because you’re gonna spreading in my passenger seat just like them club whores,”
Before y/n could say anything, the man laughed into her, forcing his huge length through her walls, knowing she would barely be able to take him.
“Logan!” Y/n cried out loud, voice crazy as she gripped and clawed at the seats. “Nah uh, you shut the fuck up!” Logan spat through his teeth as he leaned over and into the girl's ear.
“Pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, I know you want this. You always do. Comin’ back from the fuckin’ bar all soaked and full of attitude. I just know you rub that shit in my face,”
“I fuckin’ know you come through those doors wanting me to fuck your drunk ass through my mattress,” the man snapped his hips hard.
“Oh yeah? Can't take it?” Logan asked as the young girl cried in pain and pleasure. “S-Sorry, sorry,” she quickly whined as she back arched.
“No, you’re fucking not. You’re only sayin’ it now because I’m fucking this cunt dumb,” Logan growled in the girl's ear as he tugged on her hair.
“Slutty fuckin’ cunt - Grippin’ me like she ain’t been fucked in the club already,” Logan said, making the girl shake her head.
“N-No,” she managed to say. “Oh yeah? You’re tellin’ me no man has been in this cunt at the club? Fuckin’ you silly in the bathroom as you pass out from the liquor?” Logan asked.
He had already known the answer, but he was angry. He wanted to get everything out. If he could smell how wet she was every weekend, he could smell a man on her, and thankfully for her, he never has.
“N-No,” y/n whined as she came around him without warning. He hadn’t cared that she soaked his leather seats. All he cared about was how could he could fuck he’d. Maybe if he fucked he’d be good enough, she wouldn’t dare leave the apartment again.
“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. You don’t let another man touch you. Never!” He pounded, knowing the wind out of her with every thrust.
“I swear, if you do, baby, ima kill him. Ima fuckin’ kill him then lock your ass in my room,” Logan threatened, only making y/n moan.
“My fuckin’ cunt — Mine! All fuckin’ mine and you know it. You’ve been known it, Bub, and because you wanted to play games, I’m gonna teach you what the fuck happens when you do,”
Logan took the seatbelt to the car and tied it around her wrist after pulling them man. The man soon continued his anger by slamming into her until she cried, begging him to stop.
He was rough, but y/n knew deep down that she deserved it. She was disrespectful and didn’t listen to him. He should get what he wants.
“You're mine, right, baby? All mine to use like those I want at the bar and club?” Logan asked as y/n could barely keep herself conscious. “Y-Yes,” was all she could get out.
“That’s my girl,”
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radishaur · 14 hours
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༄ kind words ༄
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Warnings: mentions of unwelcome advances in Law's part Genre: fluff Characters: Luffy, Zoro, & Law Summary: How they realize they have feelings for you (words of affirmation edition) Author's Note: It's finally here! These keep getting longer and longer as I get more familiar with each character and the dynamic, especially Law's, but I don't think that's too much of an issue. I also kind of hate Luffy's but couldn't keep redoing it, so maybe I'll edit it later. Happy reading as I begin working on the next part!
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Luffy is great at giving compliments because he just says whatever he's thinking.
He gets complimented a lot as well. He's always running around and saving people, intentionally or not, so he's probably heard his fair share of compliments. I think hearing a compliment that's more deep and genuine, that comes from someone who knows him deeply, would be more meaningful than anything and would make him recognize his feelings.
~
Not every day on the Sunny was a fun adventure.
Setting out to sail across the whole world and strive for their individual goals there was bound to be hardship. Sometimes it came in the form of grueling battles with their latest enemy. Other times it was internal conflicts or disputes, simple disagreements or heated arguments.
This time, it was grief.
After so many months traveling together, the crew had learned how to tell when one of them was upset about something and needed space. Today, it had been Nami. For the past few days, her mood had been off. She'd been more quick to anger and had spent more time than was strictly necessary tending to her orange trees. Then today, she'd been even worse, snapping at Sanji's normal overbearing lovey behavior and brooding to herself under the shade of her grove.
It didn't take him long to realize what was bothering her.
Nami only ever got like this when she was thinking about Bellemere, which meant today must be the anniversary of when everything happened. The crew had spent most of the day giving her her space, allowing her to process what she was very clearly feeling. After a while, he took it upon himself to cheer her up. He made silly faces and played some of her favorite games on the deck, goading her into joining them by making bets he knew he would lose. He'd even secretly asked Sanji to incorporate oranges into their dinner. By the end of the night, Nami was laughing and she seemed a lot lighter, like whatever was weighing her down had lessened some.
Now, it was late at night, and the only sounds that could be heard on the Sunny were the lapping of waves against the ship and the snores of his crew as they slept. All except for him.
Sleep was avoiding him, so he decided that he would be much better off just joining whoever was on watch and maybe having some fun. He made his way up to the crow's nest and was happy to find you sitting on the bench, looking out across the sea.
"Oh, hi Luffy," you said, your voice quiet.
"Hi!" he said, sitting excitedly next to you on the bench as you looked out across the sea once more. "I couldn't sleep so I decided to come out and have some fun!"
You smiled, always amused by his antics.
"Well, unfortunately, there's no fun here. I'm on watch, remember?"
He pouted, knowing you were right but still disappointed anyways. You laughed at him as he whined and complained, but he didn't actually intend on distracting you, so after a while, he quieted down and let you focus.
"I hope Nami is feeling better," you said, resting your head on the arm you propped up on the window. You were frowning slightly, your eyes unfocused as your worry made itself visible on your face.
"She'll be ok, she's Nami! She's strong," he replied, no doubt in his mind that tomorrow she would be the same old Nami she had always been. "She might be sad now, but it's not forever. She has us to help her."
You hummed in agreement, a small smile on your face. He smiled himself, happy to see you smiling instead of with a frown on your face. He felt so lucky to have found a group who cared so deeply about each other.
"All that stuff you did today. It was to cheer her up, wasn't it."
You said it like a statement more than a question and he found himself smiling at how observant you were. "You figured it out. You're so smart!"
You laughed at him once again, his own laughter joining you as you said, "Of course I did. I know you wouldn't have made those bets under normal circumstances."
They had been stupidly dumb bets that left no chance for him to win and he found himself giggling as he remembered how Nami had perked up upon hearing him agree to them. He loved his crew more than anything, so what was a few beri down the drain? Your laughter subsided as you got lost in thought once more. You seemed like you were debating saying something and when you seemed to have made up your mind, he found himself sitting up straighter as you turned to look at him.
"You're a lot smarter than people give you credit for," you said, a small smile on your face and a playful admiration in your eyes.
He's not quite sure what to say to that. He's always been called stupid and to everyone's credit, he is. He doesn't think very often, preferring to act on instinct and figure out the rest of the plan later. He's been known to not read the room, to zone out during important world lessons, and to shout out the first thing that comes to mind. He doesn't think anyone has ever called him smart and for the first time in maybe his whole life, he's speechless.
"I guess that's probably not what you were expecting me to say, huh?" you teased, a light smile making its way onto your face.
He collects himself and asks, slightly incredulously, the question that's first in his mind. "Why do you think that?"
"Well, you just told me you did all that stuff to cheer Nami up, right? Someone stupid wouldn't be able to put together why she was upset and what would make her feel better. You pay attention when it counts and you're a lot more emotionally intelligent than people realize," you explain, relaxing slightly as you look out at the ocean once more. "Today it was Nami, but I've watched you help lots of people like that. Vivi, Robin, Sanji, even me. Maybe you don't say it out loud, but you pick up on people's emotions and what they need the most in that moment."
He listens as you talk and slowly realizes that you're right. He's always had a way of reading people and knowing what they really want or need, but he's never really connected it to intelligence. He always thought it was just his own special kind of stupid.
"I guess that makes me a genius!" he exclaimed, laughing heartily as your eyes widened in shock before laughing along with him.
"Maybe you are stupid after all," you say, but there's no malice in the words as you keep laughing at him.
Finally, your watch shift is over and the sun peeks up over the horizon. He'd stayed with you the entire time, just talking and goofing around until he realized how much time had passed and how tired he was. His dreams that night are filled with you and when he wakes up, your words are still floating around in his mind. Knowing that you think he's smart makes him feel funny and he thinks that maybe he should finally turn his ability to recognize people's feelings inward.
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Zoro doesn't throw out compliments or encouragement left and right, he only says something if he really means it.
I think he's received his fair share of compliments, although I doubt he puts much stock in them unless they come from someone he respects. If he doesn't think there's any stock in the compliment, or on that same token an insult, why bother giving it attention? For this reason, I think getting a compliment or reassurance from you would rattle him a little and cause him to have an aha moment.
~
The town that the Sunny docked in isn't too interesting to Zoro, aside from the bar he's nestled into for the past few hours. He has a few empty glasses in front of him and he's almost done with his current one when he sees the door open.
He's not surprised when he sees multiple of the crew walk in, quickly noticing him in the corner and making their way to him. You're among them, talking to Robin about something that elicits a small laugh out of her. Begrudgingly, he scoots over and makes room for everyone in his booth as they smoosh in.
"I knew we'd find you here!" you say, the last to slide in so you're right across from him. "Already deep into your drinks, as expected."
"Shut it, woman," he grumbles, his brows furrowing as he finishes his drink and sets the cup down on the table. You laugh, looking at Robin as Usopp reluctantly hands Nami some beri. He feels his eye twitch in irritation as he notices the exchange. "Are you betting on me?"
Usopp gulps at the glare he sends his way and Nami simply smiles, dollar signs practically lighting up in her eyes as she answers, "Yep! I bet that you were already 3 drinks deep and I was right."
"We've barely even arrived! I thought-" Usopp protests, attempting to explain himself.
"You both are insufferable!"
His exclamation elicits another laugh out of you as Robin simply lifts a hand to her mouth to hide the amusement that is no doubt there. He wants to be annoyed, and he is, but he's been traveling with the lot of you for long enough that he can't really be upset, at least that genuinely. He simply huffs, waving down a server to ask for another glass.
The rest leap over each other to order their own drinks, some alcoholic, some not, and fall into easy chatter with each other. Periodically, he catches your eyes and you send him a smile, but he doesn't insert himself in the conversations, much preferring to listen. Eventually, Nami gets tired of just sitting in the bar and decides to go shopping. Usopp and Robin decide to accompany her, but you decide to stay behind. You wave, watching them go as he takes his previous spot in the booth back.
"Not in the shopping mood?" he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
"No, I'd much rather stay here with my favorite swordsman," you tease. He bristles, knowing that you're just poking him for fun, but he can't stop himself from blushing, taking a long sip from his glass to hide the blush he can feel on his cheeks.
"You're worse than that damn cook," he mumbles, his glass now sufficiently empty.
You laugh at that.
"Now that's just a lie."
He can't deny that, the corner of his lips twisting up into a smile. He's spent enough time traveling with you to know that you don't act like that with everyone, just him. The notion that you reserve this behavior for just him is both agitating and yet satisfying. He feels something possessive lick at his heart but ignores it, waving at the server for yet another drink.
He asks you about what you've been up to on the island since they docked and you happily tell him all about it. It hasn't been long so you don't have much to say and it isn't long before the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. After a while, you finally talk again and it's not what he's expecting.
"I know you'll become the greatest swordsman, Zoro."
He sputters, the sip he was taking spilling all over himself as he coughs, trying to catch his breath. He can feel his ears heating up with embarrassment and sputters, "Where the hell did that come from?"
When you look at him, your face is set in firm determination, but your eyes are soft, filled with a fondness he wishes you would direct at him more often.
"Those pirates we fought yesterday," you explain.
He thinks for a moment before he's reminded of what you're referring to. On their way to this island, they had run into a rival ship following the same course. While they hadn't intended to battle them, the ship fired at them as soon as they were in range, so they had no other choice. He remembers the fight being fairly easy, each member of the crew handling their fair share of pirates.
He also remembers one of their crew having some rather nasty words to say to him.
"You're delusional if you think you can become the greatest swordsman," he had spat, struggling to breathe. "You'll see it eventually. Even if you won this battle, you'll never achieve your dream."
He hadn't paid much attention to the words. He was confident in his own abilities and his opponent had been defeated easily, so there wasn't any point in taking his words to heart. He hadn't thought anyone was close enough to hear it and he certainly hadn't brought it up, quickly forgetting about it.
He smirked then, letting the full force of his pride show in the grin as he said, "That loser wouldn't know what it takes to be the greatest swordsman even if it smacked him in the face."
"That doesn't make any sense," you say, your face wrinkling as you giggle at his statement.
He takes another sip as your laughter dies out.
"I'm not worried about what a crap swordsman has to say about me and my dream," he says, his voice a lot more serious now as he thinks about the promise he made all those years ago. "I will become the world's greatest swordsman or die trying."
"You'll do it. I know you will."
You don't say anything after that, seemingly having said everything you intended to, but your words linger with him. The thought that you had heard the man's words and felt it was important enough to dispute them made his heart feel weird. He had never doubted himself, even when he maybe should have. He'd always been sure that his will, determination, and hard work would take him to exactly where he was supposed to be. Still, hearing your words of encouragement, hearing your genuine belief in his ability, it affected him in a way he wasn't expecting.
"You will too," he says, his voice barely above a murmur.
A few seconds go by where you don't say anything and he wonders if you'd even heard him, but one glance at you tells him that you had. You're not looking at him, your eyes averted as if you're embarrassed and your lips are curved into a small, satisfied smile. The sight makes his heart stop and he almost goes to clutch his chest before the feeling quickly passes.
Before the moment can linger, you're shooting back into conversation with him. Despite his best efforts to pay attention, he finds that his attention is drawn back again and again to your words. He knows that the crew believes in his dreams just as much as he believes in theirs. It's part of why he's so willing to protect their dreams just as fiercely as his own, but for some reason knowing that you believe in him so much really sticks with him.
He thinks about it for the rest of the day as well as late into the night when they're all back on the Sunny and setting off for the next island. He doesn't like being distracted, so he mulls over why your compliment holds so much weight for him. He values your opinion, but you're also not a swordsman, so theoretically there shouldn't be that much weight to your words. When he finally realizes, it feels like everything clicks into place and so many things start to make sense.
He acts like nothing has changed, wanting time to sit with the feelings before he decides what to do about them, but he finds it hard now that he understands the full weight of his regard for you.
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Law rarely ever gives out compliments, rather preferring to show how he feels with his actions.
I think he receives a few compliments here and there, but he's built an intimidating presence and image, so I think they're far and few between. However, I think if you took him off guard with a meaningful compliment, especially if its one that he hasn't heard before, it would make him start to think about his feelings towards you.
~
"Captain, we have a problem."
Law sighs, all of the worst-case scenarios running through his mind as he turns to face Sachi. They're docked at a port town so that they can restock the Polar Tang, preparing for another few weeks underwater. It's familiar and something that the crew should be familiar with by this point. They have a routine, a schedule that rarely changes, that details who goes with who to go get what. In theory, it should go perfectly smoothly.
It never does.
"What is it, Sachi?" he asks, his grip on Kikoku tightening slightly as Sachi walks up to him with the list of crewmates and jobs in hand.
"Well, you said that nobody is allowed to go alone into town right? For safety?" he asks, only resuming once Law has hummed in agreement. "Right, well uh, unfortunately, Penguin is sick today which means his partner doesn't have anyone to go with, which wouldn't be an issue since usually we have at least one group of three but, well, they're also sick so-"
Law grumbles under his breath about getting to the damn point, grabbing the sheet from Sachi's hands to just look at the issue himself. Sachi gulps, sensing his irritation, and nervously rubs the back of his neck. The problem becomes clear very easily. His beloved crew had partied a little too hard the last few nights and now two of them were sick, leaving no group of three to split up and someone unaccompanied. He looks for Penguin's name to see who's alone and feels his heart flutter slightly when he sees your name scrawled out next to it.
"Our only two options are to either make one group get two things, which would set us back at least an hour, or...," Sachi says, trailing off slightly. The unspoken second option is clear. Law always spend their restock days on the ship. The higher his bounty gets, the higher the chance that he gets recognized, so he always finds it easier and safer for him to stay behind.
"I'll go," he relents, watching as the tension in Sachi's shoulders dissipates.
"Great. Thanks, Captain!"
Sachi disappears before he can change his mind. He sighs, looking around the collection of his crew until he finally finds you in the mix. He makes his way over, watching as you converse with Bepo, catching the very end of your sentence.
"-seems like I'll be alone today. Sachi said he would look into it, but everyone already has their pairs so I don't know who could take his place."
"That would be me," he answers, watching as both Bepo and you finally notice his approach.
"Oh! Uh, are you sure? Don't you usually spend the day on the Tang doing research?" you ask.
He ignores your improper name for the Polar Tang as he explains the situation to you. You nod, smiling as you say, "I see. Well, I'm glad to have your company then, Captain!"
He's taken aback by your words but decides to just move forward instead of dwelling on them, so he turns around and shouts, "Let's go."
"Shouldn't you probably change?"
He stops, looking down at his attire as you add, "As much as it suits you, it doesn't really hide the fact that you're a pirate, let alone our Captain."
He can't really argue with that. The Heart Pirates logo is front and center on his shirt and Kikaku is certainly not doing him any favors either. He tells you to wait and then quickly shambles himself into his room to change. He has to dig really deep in his closet before he finds a shirt that doesn't have his symbol front and center, but once he does he leaves Kikaku leaning against his wall and shambles back up to you.
By the time he's changed and came back, most of his crew is gone. You're quicker to notice him this time as a result and the two of you finally head into town.
"What are we in charge of?" he asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets now that they're not holding his sword.
"We're in charge of the medicinal herbs, Captain," you answer.
"Just Law is fine," he says, his hand fidgeting slightly as he adds, "No use in me changing if you're just going to use my title."
He sees you smile softly out of the corner of his eyes. "Right. Law it is, then."
His ears burn slightly as you say his name so effortlessly, but he brushes it off quickly and continues into town. It's not hard to find the store you're looking for and he lets you take the lead as you begin listing off the various herbs you need. It's not long before the two of you are walking through town once more, heading towards the submarine.
"Oh, look! That art is gorgeous."
He stops walking as he turns to look at what you're pointing at. There's a small stall in the marketplace's square that's selling paintings of all different sizes and mediums. He sees your eyes light up as you look at them and isn't surprised when you say, "Wait here, I'm going to go buy one."
He huffs, leaning against the wall of a nearby building where he can see the stall. He'd like to pretend that today had purely been an inconvenience, but he can't find it in himself to be that upset. While it was inconvenient that he wasn't able to spend the time studying the most recent medical book he had been interested in, the day had been pleasant. You'd made pleasant conversation with him while walking in town and your bright demeanor always seems to calm him down.
He looks back over to the stall, curious about what painting had caught your eyes, but feels his heart jolt when he doesn't see any sign of you. He stands up to his full height, hoping to catch any glimpse of you, but he still doesn't see anything. He curses to himself for letting his guard down and allowing you to somehow slip away and starts searching for you with his observation haki.
He picks up your signature in an alleyway and feels his gut churning. Not wanting to draw attention to himself by using his devil fruit powers, he quickly makes his way to where you are. As he gets closer, he hears you pleading with someone.
"Look, I'm really not interested and I have someone waiting for me, so-"
"Surely I can show you a better time than them, hm?"
He doesn't recognize the second voice but he doesn't need to to know what's going on. He feels anger burn in him as he finally turns a corner and sees a guy caging your body against the wall with both of his arms.
"I already told you, I'm not looking for that. Please let me go," you say, your hands clutching the bag of herbs you'd bought earlier as well as what looks to be whatever painting you had bought at the stall. He also sees the man take a step closer and open his mouth to talk, so he takes the opportunity to interrupt.
"You heard them," he says, his voice like venom as he enunciates, "Let them go."
The man looks at him, sizing him up as he takes a step back and lets his arms drop. "What are you, a good samaritan? Buzz off," he scoffs, turning his head back to you, clearly intending to ignore him.
He doesn't know what comes over him as he finds himself stepping closer and punching the man square on the side of his face. The man, clearly caught off guard, stumbles slightly. He doesn't give him any time to recover as he steps forward, putting himself in between you and the man whose face was now swelling up.
"What the hell?" he shouts, cradling his face as he finally catches his balance.
He can see the punch coming but knows that you're standing right behind him, so he only shifts slightly so that the punch only hits him in the shoulder. A moment afterward, it dawns on him that he can just get rid of the man, so he does.
"You're lucky I don't have my sword, or you'd be getting much worse than this," he seethes, holding his hand out as he says his classic phrase and sends the man shambling into the ocean. In his place, a mossy stone drops to the ground, echoing in the now almost empty alleyway.
When he turns around, you're staring at him speechless. He frowns slightly as he gives you a once over, checking for any visible signs of harm.
"I'm ok," you finally say, your voice shaky before you cough slightly and repeat, voice calm, "I'm ok. Just unnerved."
He doesn't take his chances and calls another room, switching you both closer to the Polar Tang. His guilt at letting you out of his sight and allowing this guy to drag you off eats at him as the two of you approach the ship. Once inside, he shambles the two of you to his examination room, pointing to the table and saying, "Sit. I want to check for injuries with the proper equipment."
You don't fight him as you make your way towards the table. You're still holding the bag and the painting until he gently takes them from you, placing them next to you on the table.
"I'm really ok La- I mean Captain," you begin, correcting yourself back to his title now that it's just the two of you.
He finds himself missing his name from you but keeps the comment to himself. He's supposed to be checking you for injuries. He's supposed to be assessing your well-being, which is only in question because of his own negligence. He frowns to himself and continues to check you for injuries without answering.
You let him, still assuring him that you're fine, that he only grabbed your arm for a moment at the stall, but he doesn't stop until he's sure that there's nothing wrong.
He sighs, finally stepping back from the table. His guilt still eats at him regardless as he goes over everything he did wrong. "I'm sorry, I should have been watching more carefully. No, I should have just come with you."
You simply smile at him in response and say, "It's my fault. I was the one who stepped away."
He doesn't have anything to say to that. He knows it's true, you did step away despite it being an explicit rule not to, but he can't deny his part in it as well. He curls his fists as the silence continues.
"Why didn't you dodge his punch?" you ask, your voice quiet.
He's surprised by the question, but also by how quickly his cheeks warm up at his answer. He looks off to the side, hiding behind his hat as he says, "You were right behind me. If I moved, he would have just punched you."
You have the audacity to laugh, loud and full as if he had just told you the funniest joke you'd ever heard and he can't help but scowl.
"You know," you start, laughter still floating in your voice, "For someone with such a cold exterior, you sure are kind."
The compliment catches him off guard. His face whips towards you as his eyes open in shock, the faint blush now burning bright red across his whole face. He meets your eyes and he doesn't see any hint of a joke.
He's heard himself called a lot of things. Scary, cold, bitter, even downright malicious, but never kind. It sends shivers up his spine as the word settles somewhere under his skin. You think he's kind. Kind.
"You're my subordinate. I'm not being kind, I'm just doing my job as your Captain," he corrects, not wanting you to misunderstand his intentions.
Your laugh this time is softer, more full of fondness, but it rustles him all the same. "You really are kind though," you insist. He's not ready for you to continue, barely able to handle the few words you've said, but that's never stopped you before. "I think you care a lot more than you want us to think. You wouldn't worry so much otherwise. Besides, you're always going out of your way to protect us. I think that makes you kind."
He doesn't know what to say, so he tries to navigate back into familiar territory. He takes a deep breath and calms his nerves, grabbing the bag of medical herbs from your side and turning around to begin putting them away. "Well, since I've checked and you don't have any injuries, there's no reason for you to stay."
He hears you shuffling around as he begins unpacking the herbs from the bag and chances a glance over at you one more time. He regrets it immediately.
You're looking at him like you can see right through him. You have your painting tucked under your arm as you look over your shoulder at him in the doorway and you're still smiling at him as if he didn't just ignore your comment and dismiss you rather rudely. It makes his heart ache, wanting to prove you right. To prove that he is kind, that he's worthy of your opinion of him, that he's worthy of your praise.
"Thank you, Captain. I enjoyed your company today."
With that, you disappear down the hallway, presumably back to your shared room to hang up your new picture. He stares at the spot you left long after you've gone, your words echoing in his mind. They rattle around in his heart until they finally settle, leaving a warm comfort he didn't know he craved.
You think he's kind.
That thought plagues his mind for the rest of the day. His guilt is completely forgotten, his mind too consumed by your compliment to make any room for it. He finds himself unable to even focus on reading the medical book that night that he missed out on reading earlier. Your words and the simple fact that you truly believed them chip away at his resolve until he finally has to come to terms with why it affects him so much. He mumbles your name, his hand clutching his heart as it beats, solidifying what he'd been ignoring for a long, long time now.
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ღ radishaur — i do not own any of these characters. do not plagiarize. please enjoy and remember to be respectful! 
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wanologic · 3 days
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college au prequel: what happened to danny during junior year - 2940 words
Viscous green liquid sludges through a dry river bed, whetting the cracked ground and seeping deep into the void. Soil softens, becoming fat with nutrient. In the most basic definition, still itself, but filled with new matter, ready and accepting of more. This is what it was made for, its purpose. It has been sitting, dry and untended for too long. In this symbiosis it is more than it dreamed to be. Complete in the sense that it has been starved.
--
Danny wakes up, the dream lingering.
He’s been feeling odd lately, despite the fact that he is more comfortable in his skin than ever. He has a goal, he has support. 
A bridge, he called himself.
Even if he’s only sixteen and his influence is contextually small, he has time. People are listening. Ghosts are listening. Small steps over a long period will get you where you need to go, and he’s still just a kid. 
A kid who has to get ready for school.
He goes through the familiar motions, snags a quick breakfast and lets his parents know he’s headed out, that he’ll see them later. He’s out the door and on his way before he knows it.
Danny’s grades have improved since his freshman year. The pressure to keep things secret has all but alleviated and his family is sticking close. The world might not know that Fenton and Phantom are the same, but the people who matter do.
He’s managing. Thriving, even.
His extracurriculars are atypical of a high school junior, but he plays his role well. The Ghost Investigation Ward meets Phantom and the Fentons on neutral ground that evening, working their way methodically through a tangle of red tape. Teaching, learning. There’s always danger in compromise, but both parties are being two faced. It’s civil for now.
He’ll do this from the opposite angle on another day, playing border guard for the dimensional tear nestled into the fabric of his basement. Walker would be proud of him. He’s enforcing the Rules.
And it’s all going well as far as he can tell. Things are so much less chaotic than they were, his brawls feel like bonding, his head is no longer on a swivel.
For now, it’s off to his room. A space for himself to decompress after a long day's work.
He spends a lot of time thinking about a prehistoric past. What the future might look like once his job is over. This solid physical reality fed that swirling and infinite realm of emotion directly, once. It didn’t last, but time has passed. 
Danny is more aware of this fractured nature than most. He’s sure it’s why he’s had so much success. Why the responsibility falls on him. He feels it every time he calls upon his second self. 
And that’s what it is, isn’t it? Human first, ghost second. Humanity is the frame of reference he was born with. Everything new he experiences in this strange half-life is compared against it. Spectra once asked him what he was. But humanity is in his nature. He is a creepy boy with creepy powers. He’s sure of it. 
Going ghost.
Returning to humanity.
Not that he prefers one over the other. He’s made the choice. More than once. When his memories were erased or his powers short-circuited he always took them back. Felt the thrumming and euphoric energy pulsing through his being once again. His shape projected and unreal. Weightless. It feels incredible.
At some point, some late night discussion about feelings, whether it was with family or with friends, he realized his dual nature was more of a privilege than he could ever hope to fully comprehend. His human half feeds his ghost half everything. His ghost half is complete. No wonder he’s so determined, so strong. He has never once craved emotion the way the others have. He has intrinsic access to everything. Every failed test, every frustration, every joy, every thrill. He is comfortable and whole. Has no need to lash out. Two separate identities working together as two polar magnets, inseparable through the strength of their attraction, moving through the world as one.
He slips the familiar glowing rings across his body, the cool wash of ectoplasm coursing through his veins. Back again, blood pumps oxygen to his cells. Human. Ghost. Human. Ghost.
--
This time the dream is stranger.
The river craves the ocean. 
Danny feels the sand cake beneath his nails as he digs a trench, a violation of the river’s established bed. There’s a trickle as a thin and frothy stream flows out of sync with the current along the path he lays. It longs for the larger disconnected body ahead. A curious tendril seeking an easier path. He digs deeper, automatic, compelled by a force he doesn’t quite understand. 
Is this a bridge too?
He’s both excited and afraid to find out.
The liquid pools at his fingertips as fast as he can dig. Nudging. The sand is saturated and wet in front of him. He’s not sure how much further he has to go. But if he can claw his way through this dense barrier he’s sure it will pick up momentum even without him. The fluid mass can carve its own trench. Wider. Faster. Wider again.
He wakes up in a cold sweat. He somehow feels incorporeal. This isn’t right. He looks at his hands. His fingers in the dark. Clean. Spotless. He feels the sheets beneath his body, the press of the blanket above. So he’s still human then, wrong as it may seem. He clutches at his chest as he tries to calm his racing heart, quell the strength of an intense emotion that he cannot describe. It’s exhilarating. It’s terrifying.
He stops digging and fashions a dam, not yet ready for what the final connection could mean.
His head hurts.
Nausea tucks itself against his gut.
He takes a shower.
--
It’s Saturday and he has business in the Ghost Zone.
He shifts, expecting the weird feeling to subside. Instead it’s more of the same. Something is off. He ignores it. A thing to worry about later when he has less to do.
His work that day goes smoothly, another step in what he can only hope is the right direction. And it feels nice, giving in to the compulsion and focusing on what is in front of him, what is currently begging his attention, rather than the problems lurking beneath the surface. It is a learned behavior, one he falls back into easily.
Upon his return he feels like he is dragging a piece of the Infinite Realms back with him. The air seems to thicken, the cold steel walls of the portal are closing in on him. The exit is a pinpoint.  He’s being called back. He wants to move forward. He can feel silky fingers worm their way over his skin, hundreds of tendrils trying to pull him into their embrace. He stays strong. Moves with intent. The invisible hands can’t find enough purchase and he is finally welcomed back into the Physical World like the denizen he is. 
The caress stays with him much longer than he’s willing to admit.
--
Weeks go by and he only feels stranger and stranger. High. His attention slides off of everything so easily, his eyes blurring mid-conversation, a stuffy feeling, like a balloon that’s expanding well past the boundaries of his head. He loses time. Cancels appointments. He doesn’t feel well, sorry, he’s going to stay home today.
There is something Danny knows he needs to do. He can’t keep existing in limbo like this, his job only half-finished, pulled in two directions but choosing neither. His powers will wane once again in his indecision. His purpose sits unfulfilled.
He lays back and stares at the softly luminescent stars pasted to the ceiling of his room. Takes deep and even breaths as he struggles to remain present. His sister is worried for him, he’s sure. The best he can do for her is secretly practice what she has preached.
Danny eventually thinks back to that trickling stream. The slimy offshoot of the coursing river. He thinks of the dam he dreamed up all those weeks ago, sure it’s bigger now. His denial adds weight and height to the metaphor. Every day it feels less like a figment of his fucked up imagination and more like the worlds are trying to tell him something. What’s on the other side now, he wonders? Is the river still flowing? Are the fruits of his labor still there or has that little hand-clawed pathway dried up? How large is the reservoir pressing up against that sandy hill if it hasn’t?
He’s scared. 
He doesn’t want to know. 
But this isn’t what he promised himself.
A peek can’t hurt.
--
The dream comes easily, now that he lets it.
The funny thing about water is that it always finds a way. No matter what people do, how they try to tame it, erosion is inevitable. It starts as a dark wet splotch, the faint idea of a tiny breach in the all-but-permeable barrier between worlds—the river and the ocean. As the spot expands a dip forms on the horizon. The water moves. Under, through, over. Destructive. Alive. Danny shouldn’t have looked but he can’t stop what has already started. Equilibrium will be achieved one way or another. It was only ever a matter of time. He stands in the shallows, cowed as the wall comes down. Slowly first, then all at once.
The edges of panic are sharp and he realizes what is happening only a beat too late. 
The dam breaks.
He screams.
He was the dam, he is the trench, the rapid connection of energy flowing out of bounds and rushing along a new path. Lightning striking the rod to avoid burning down the house. The portal below him is a wound, a tear. He is something asked for, something natural. His mind can’t keep up as he struggles to regain ground and prevent being swept away by the violent current.
Dim awareness of his physical body comes back to him slowly as he writhes against the foreign dimension assaulting his senses. A second death. His double life was a conceptual marvel, a switch flipping from on to off, and back on again. He is the embodiment of two worlds, split, distinct. His quest to join them together requires this of him, doesn’t it? Whatever autonomy he has against the will of the universe cannot remain if he truly wants to serve his purpose. It’s a choice he has to make. One that he has been making. One that has been made.
He takes a deep and shuddering breath.
He tries to let go, and finds that he can’t. It’s like being electrocuted all over again, his nerves fried and his joints stuck rigid. It’s a feeling that is impossible to control, tense as he is.
His breath still comes ragged as colors around him saturate and the world warps. He can feel his fear, his desperation, feeding the momentum of whatever is happening. The exchange of emotion, osmosis through a rapidly deteriorating membrane. Thousands of overlapping inputs assault his mind as he feels the energy sliding around in the folds of his brain. He breathes through it. It’s not at all painful, but it is intense. His human points of reference aren’t working to help him conceptualize what is happening. His atoms are buzzing with newfound energy and the world is no longer solid. He tries once again to attempt the mindfulness ritual Jazz has been shoving down his throat, tries to name five things around him. The exercise fails him as he feels his brain liquefy in his skull. He gasps at the sloshing sensation, back arching. He’s going to be unmade.
Instead of loosening his grip, he tightens it. Remembering what it is to be human with all the force he can muster. His knuckles are white. Sweat slips down his brow. If he can’t let go, he has to hold on. He is gasping, thrashing. He’s hyperventilating, he’s sure, but no oxygen floods his system. He wants release, wants off this ride. The world outside of his perception ceases to exist. Flesh slips from his bones and it feels so, so good.
Then he sees it.
His eyes are blind, but he perceives it, somehow. The yawning void of the infinite realms is so much bigger, so much hungrier than he had ever thought. Reading that tablet, all that time ago, he thought his purpose was something simple. Easy in a way that a fourteen year old imagination could rationalize. The earth and the zone were two physical spaces that only needed to understand each other and hold hands to achieve that elusive harmony. 
He’d been wrong.
It’s not the earth that feeds the realms. Dimensions aren’t something that can be explained by an elementary understanding of mass and matter. They aren’t some static three dimensional points in time and space. They are universes of their own, expanding, interstitched in a nasty and sticky web of inexplicable physics folding over and back on themselves, forever too complicated to pry apart.
The realms are fed by the conscious universe perceiving itself, the soul, the spirit, whatever you want to call it. Emotions aren’t some grid of faces on a paper, they are infinite, they are cause and effect, the chicken and the egg, projecting forever in a möbius loop human understanding can never truly describe.
He’s going to go insane, he concludes. Here on his bed, on some random weekday, alone in his room. The magnetic pull of his two halves are phasing into each other, becoming imperceivable as the two separate forms he once knew. He’s not even sure that he really exists at this point. 
There is another choice to make.
He thinks back to what he knows about this buried history, Pariah Dark, The Ancients, wonders if they considered this connection, what they knew about how this should happen. Is there a way to do this that is objectively correct? If he knew more would it be easier? Or would it go down just the same? He has no desire to conquer. Only to be a bridge. A tether. An example. To show that this merging from two to one can be peaceful, a shift in perception rather than a violent overhaul. It is unavoidable now. His only wish is to remain recognizable as himself. 
He focuses not on his mind but on his body. He has to rebuild from the ground up or risk losing himself forever. Start small, a beating heart. Vascular systems. Skeletal. Muscular. Take a breath and pump blood into the empty cavern of his skull. Human is what he knows, though he’s never had to think about it quite this way before. His nerves lace through the structures he’s struggling to create, half intuition, half memory. It feels like being a ghost, all projection and thought, a deep and innate understanding. He knows this. He’s existed this way every moment of his short life and he can do it again. He’s alive, his blood is red, his flesh is tangible.
His brain slams back into his body and he promptly throws up.
--
The worlds are connected once again.
Danny’s hands shake as he tries to get a grip on himself. He’s been changed. He can feel it. The Infinite Realms has marked him as he has marked it. The world is flowing through and from him. Energy hums under his skin, and in it there is access to a well so deep he’s not sure it could ever run dry. 
He finally gets it. This is what being a bridge between worlds means for him.
He gets off his bed slowly. Half floating, half stumbling for balance. His instincts are scattered and his breath no longer sits in his body the same.
This change gives him the authority and the power, the perception and understanding to mend the bleeding fracture between dimensions. He will be listened to. He cannot be hurt. His appearance no longer matters, he is what he is, wholly and entirely. He exists as a linchpin. He is the keystone in the arch where one side is living and the other is dead.
Gravity feels so odd. Like someone changed the coefficient.
He sobs and grabs his dresser for support, woozy and unbalanced, a newborn deer walking on unfamiliar legs. He intends to make his way downstairs. Wants to fall into the embrace of his parents. Needs someone to hold him and tell him that everything will still be okay. He looks to the door.
And without moving, he is there.
Breath comes hard and fast as he steadies himself. His perception catching up to the new perspective. His hand is on the handle, he radiates a trail of semi-physical matter with every motion. It will take practice to appear normal again. He’s reminded of his freshman year.
When he finally opens the door, a swirling green wall is all that meets him. He stares at it, the cold vapor of the Realms slipping around and through him.
He knows the observants exist on the other side. He is sure of it as he is sure of anything. They are there to acknowledge the crown above his head. To observe what he has finally made of himself. 
He will tell him that he didn’t want this, didn’t ask for it.
They will tell him that he is lying.
He steps through the threshold.
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multificimagines · 3 days
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Fandom: Honkai Star Rail
Pairing: Moze x reader
Description: You’re fatally injured
Notes: Um I don’t have a comment for this one lol
Warnings: Blood, very vague descriptions of injury
Moze tries not to think about the blood—pooling around you, dripping and smeared across your skin and clothing, and onto him. Now that the adrenaline of the fight has worn off, the thoughts are clawing their way into his mind. Filthy. Grimey. Unclean.
But the blood can be washed away, the clothing can be replaced if necessary. You, on the other hand—you can never be replaced. So he pushes past the sick feeling in his gut, trying instead to focus on that—on you.
“Moze…I’m sorry.” you say, softly, so softly that he almost doesn’t hear you.
But he does.
For a moment, Moze is truly, terribly afraid that you’re gone. “What?”
“I’m bleeding on you…” your words are slurring together in the haze of blood loss. He almost feels relieved that you responded.
But that relief is overshadowed by your words. That shouldn’t be your main concern—not now, while you were bleeding out. While you were so close to dying.
“Don’t worry about that,” he says.
“But…you…”
“Talk about something else,” he interrupts. “Stay awake. Just…talk about something else.”
You’re quiet for a moment, but you lean your head closer to his chest. “You’re warm,” you hum. “I think…I could stay like this forever. If I have to die, it’ll be nice to die in your arms…”
He reminds himself that you’ve lost a lot of blood, and that some of that blood is from a head injury. That your words mean nothing, that you’re too delirious to know what you’re saying.
Hopefully you’re also too delirious to notice how his heart betrays him, pounding in his chest in response to your rambling.
When Moze arrives at the infirmary, and hands you off to the Yaoqing doctors, you cling to him, reluctant to let go, but you’re too weak to put up any real fight.
It isn’t until later, when he’s finished cleaning all evidence of the fight and injury, and is scrubbing the blood off of his skin, that he realizes for a moment, when you breathed in his existence and thought it might be the last thing you ever knew, that he’d forgotten all else. That the world around him stopped, because the thought of really, truly seeing you die, overpowered all else.
Somehow, even when the blood is gone and his skin scrubbed raw, he doesn’t feel any less uneasy. All he can think of is you, the pool of blood that had surrounded you, the emotion he can’t quite place twisting in his gut even now, compelling him to stay by your side.
So Moze returns to the infirmary, keeping watch from the shadows.
-
It was a few days before you awoke, and were actually lucid.
Moze stood in the corner, leaned against the wall. He didn’t realize he drifted off until he was startled awake by the sounds of movement. His hand twitches toward his daggers instinctively before he realizes that it’s only you, sitting up in your bed.
You’re similarly startled when he emerges from the shadows, and your eyes land on him. You also reach for a weapon on instinct—though yours isn’t there—but you visibly relax when your mind catches up with you, and you realize it’s only him.
“You should still be resting,” he admonishes.
You raise a brow. “And you shouldn’t be in here. I doubt they’ve cleared me for visitors yet.”
Moze ignores your comment. “How do you feel?”
“Like I almost died,” you joke. “But really, I don’t remember much. It’s all kind of a blur. I’m not certain the things I do remember even happened.”
There’s a brief moment of silence, and not for the first time Moze takes in the state of you. Bandages wrapped around your head. He knows from his memory of your injury that beneath the blanket, you also have them around your abdomen and chest. Moze had known even as he made every effort to save you that your survival was far from guaranteed.
The phantom feeling of your blood crawls back onto his skin. He crosses his arms, tries to fight the urge to scrub and claw at the skin, because he knows it’s not there.
You’re the first to break the silence. “The medics said you brought me here. I owe you my life, Moze. I know it couldn’t have been easy…”
He remembers your apology. I’m sorry. I’m bleeding on you.
“There was no need to leave you to die,” he responds.
You smile. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be grateful.”
Your smile suddenly twists into a frown, your hand reaching up to brush against the bandages around your head. “I…didn’t say anything strange to you, did I?”
If I have to die, it’ll be nice to die in your arms.
“…No.”
You sigh in relief. “Thank the Aeons! That would have been humiliating…”
He suspects that you remember more than you’re admitting to, but if you would rather believe it never happened, then he’s willing to pretend it didn’t.
Somehow, though, he knows the memory of you, clinging to him, saying you’d be fine with dying if he was the last thing you saw, won’t soon fade away. That your blood will continue to linger on his skin long after he cleaned it, that the fear of losing you is now realized and forever ingrained in him.
That he really wants to hold you close, and feel you clinging to him like that again.
He’s quick to bury those emotions, and try not to think about it any further. But he knows they’ll surface again, and unlike the blood and grime, these emotions will not be so easily washed away.
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