#shaking my brain yelling ‘do something’ but it just refuses

[demigod-shenanigans]

The only thing worse than being bored is being bored when my brain is refusing to let me do shit

[coralbae]

The storm outside is unrelenting, even more so than the arugment brewing inside your shared home with Satoru. The two of you continue raising your voices at each other, but it's almost like the universe itself begging you to stop by drowning out the sound.

Exasperated, you so desperately want to yell at Satoru to get your point across, thought it's something you’d promised yourself to never do. Closing your eyes, unclenching and clearing your fists then taking a long, deep breath, you turn away from Satoru, dragging your feet towards the front door of your shared home.

You need space, maybe some fresh air will do you some good. The allure of the rain outside washing away your woes and sorrows is too tempting. Maybe the ice cold droplets will help you cool off.

After moments of silence, save for the clattering of the rain against the roof and occasional bang of thunder, you feel his presence behind you, but you don’t want to turn around, scared to see the look on his face after all the hurtful words you fired at him.

He reaches out - curse his long ass limbs - and beats you putting a hand on the doorknob. That's when you turn to look at his face, solemn expression a far cry from his usual, cheery self. He looks at you, smiling weakly as he pulls the door open, ‘You stay, I'll go. You shouldn’t be out there.’

And just as he’s one foot out of the door as the harsh wind hits you just like your realisation, you reach for his arm, holding tight. Knowing that he still puts you first in the midst of an argument, you know in your heart that everything will be okay. ‘Don’t go,’ you plead.

‘I thought you wanted some space?’ he asks, but you shake your head, ‘I thought I did, but I know we’ll work it out. Even though you’re pissing me off right now, I'd rather be mad and know you're safe than worrying about what could be happening to you out there.’

Smiling, a genuine one this time, he kicks the door shut and drags you to the couch, flopping on it and pulling you on top of him. ‘We’re not going to bed until we talk it out, okay? I refuse to go to bed mad at each other.’

Trapped in his arms and safe from the cold, he speaks to you so gently, as you pout and play with his hair and that’s almost enough to make you forget why you were arguing in the first place.

a/n: first solo drabble kinda nervy

this has been bouncing in my brain ever since its been pissing down non stop for the last few weeks 💔 time to splash some cyclists

also practicing some writing before i work on a (not very) super duper top secret project <3 and the fake dating au which is collecting dust

[paetalks]

you always knew you and nanami kento loved each other in that way. since you were ten years old and playing with mud, to when you were twenty and yelling at each other through a parking lot because of a nasty argument about god knows what. since having an unspoken crush for each other in middle school, to not talking in highschool yet listening to the same artists hoping the other would share a song and start a conversation again. since running in the woods at sixteen playing hide and seek and smoking the first cigarettes together, to having different parters at nineteen. since finding out the love never ran out at twenty-two, to confessing it to each other in a whisper under the stars a few days later.

“i love you” he blurts out, quickly, watching away from your face and the can of beer you are holding. “i love you too.” you say, fondly, like you always do.

“no.” he says, moving his head towards you again. “i love you. in like- i wanna kiss you way. i wanna hold your hand way. i wanna have sex with you way.”

“oh”. your voice is barely audible, heat crawling up your neck. the night is warm and only a few centimeters are in the way of your pinkies brushing. for a second, he considers taking it back, but soon it’s too late. you are already looking his way, as if you’re looking for shapes in the freckles that start showing on his cheeks around this time of the year. “when did you figure it out?”

your question stings him a little bit, like a nail poking at his heart from the inside, because you sound so detached. he thinks he has ruined everything but it really is too late now anyways so he blurts out “a week ago, at shoko’s. you were wearing a sundress, and i thought i was having a heart attack because i could feel it beating in my head but it really was just you looking beautiful.”

you swallow hard, looking right into his eyes. “are you sure?”

your questions are making him feel weird, like the nails under his skin are just growing in number. do you hate him now? he shifts in his seat and eventually gets up, mumbling something about being rejected by you sooner than he expected.

the night isn’t warm anymore when you wrap your fingers around his wrist and force him to look back at you, still sitting on the rusty bench at this random park you never go to at night. your beer is long forgotten. “don’t leave.” you mumble, then looking up at him you ask again “are you sure this is when you realized you were in love with me?”

he looks lost. “i just told you-” but you cut him off by standing up fast, almost tripping on yourself, wanting to be on his eye level. your eyebrows furrow when you say “because i knew it long before that. i knew you were in love with me when i was ten, and you picked flowers for me when i was crying because i scraped my knee falling from the tree in your backyard. i knew you were in love with me when i was fifteen, and you refused to kiss me when we were playing spin the bottle because you said my first kiss was supposed to be special. i knew you loved me last year when gojo asked me out on a date when i had just been broken up with and you acted like he wounded you for a week, saying it was nothing and still not talking to us until i told you i had said no to his stupid date idea." you are moving closer now, one step away from his face and his freckles, and nanami looks speechless, as if words are not even forming in his brain.

you hold your hands out, gripping his firmly like you are praying together. he is used to your touch, but its burning him now, like you are made of fire. and you feel made of fire, with a newfound passion sizzling right at the top of your stomach. your speech is not over.

"i noticed everything, kento. i have seen you all this time. you know why?" you squeeze his hands, and he has never seen this light in your eyes. he reminds him of that time after graduation when you were telling him about your idea of moving away, and he had asked you to come with. he slowly shakes his head no. you smile. "because i love you too."

it comes in waves for him. the surprise, the happiness, the shock. his eyes widen while you keep on rumbling, even though you are whispering now. "i was in love with you all this time as well. i still am, and i probably always will be. i wanted you to be my first kiss that time when the bottle landed on you, and i wanted you to ask me out, not gojo. last week i was wearing that dress for you, kento. i do everything for you”.

suddenly your lips meet with his, like a strong invisible force pulled you towards each other. his hands find your hips and squeeze, as if he’s scared to let go. you almost giggle on his lips, thinking back of when in high school you used to brush his bangs away from his eyes just to be able to look at him better.

he whispers “i love you” again, and this time you say it back quickly, fondly, wholeheartedly. you always knew you and nanami kento loved each other in that way.

quick friends to lovers blurt with nanamin (based on my real life ? idek)

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Album

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader Warnings: Suggestive discussions, talks of kinks/interests (very lightly) mostly just silly and fluffy. Summary: Clayton finds out you have a photo album on your phone of pictures and clips of him. Notes: Inspired by the ridiculous number of pictures of Clayton I have on my phone. Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

You're not really thinking when you say it, a passing comment after he shows you a picture he took with Schmaltz on the latest roadie. Just a quick 'adding that one to the folder', that gets an eyebrow raise and immediate curiosity from Clay.

It becomes a battle of wills. Your stubbornness not to show him the folder and his refusal to budge because he's simply too curious now to walk away from the conversation. In the end you're the one who folds; unlocking your phone and shoving it towards him already on the photo album that you keep your ridiculous number of photos and clips of Clay in...the folder you'd been adamant about never revealing to him because it was embarrassing.

The grin he has on his face says it all, wide, dimple on show as he swipes through photo after photo, clip after clip. You're groaning, sinking down against against the sofa cushions, a throw pillow pulled up to cover your face because you can't face the embarrassment.

"You really like me sweaty and bucketless, huh?" He flicks the screen over to the next picture of him on the bench. His hair is a mess, sweaty and sticking to his skin, chains out, the bucket is off, probably in his lap or handed off to someone to get adjusted. You have at least 10 pictures of him like that. All in a row, one after the other.

"Shut up..."

"It's cute, baby," It's cute how many pictures you have of him. It's cute how much you like him...he's had the nonchalant girls before. The one's that act cool, that don't make it clear how much they like you. You're not like that. You're a lover girl through and through, he can't doubt that you find him attractive or that you want him because it's all here in your phone for him to see, it's all written across your face, in your actions, in your words.

"It's embarrassing."

"It's not embarrassing to find your boyfriend hot, baby."

"Yes, it is!"

He just shakes his head at you and keeps scrolling. Photos of him with his hair free and sweaty. Clips of him spitting on the ice. So many clips of him chewing on a mouthguard or yelling orders at people. A few pictures of him with his black eye or bloody from some accident on the ice or another.

"Why are there so many clips of me yelling at people, baby?" He stops on one, he's frowning at someone, maybe Maccelli, yelling something that looks suspiciously like 'get your shit together'...it's a little embarrassing for him. He knows he can be a little intense on the ice sometimes, still trying to find that balance between giving direction and order and being a dickhead.

"It's hot..." You mumble pulling the pillow down slightly, enough to look at him over the top of it. You're all wide eyed, shy, feeling self-conscious because all of his attention is on you and what you find attractive about him.

"It's hot?"

"I don't know..." You try to pull the pillow back up to cover your face, but Clay's hand is there, tugging it down to stop you from hiding completely from him again.

"No, no, you don't get to back out of that one, sweet girl. Why's it hot?" He's being soft with you, gentle voice, rumbly. The one that makes you want to squirm in place and kick your feet...it makes it a little easier, even if the eye contact has your face on fire. Intense blue eyes fixed on your features, eager to see you as you answer him.

"I...I like when you're in charge and all captainy..." You've always liked Clay in charge. It's what drew you to him in the first place. He led and you followed and he led well. You could shut your brain off around him, it was easy to do because you knew he'd make sure you were good.

The smile he gives you is a little evil, smirking with one half of his mouth, looking at you from under his lashes as he starts to lean over you as you shrink back feeling giddy in the pit of your stomach in a way that has you pursing your lips in an effort not to giggle.

"You want me to tell you want to do, baby?"

"Shut up." It's got no bite at all, your face is as hot as it can get and Clayton knows he's got you as you squirm in place. You're practically lying on the couch, Clayton leaning over you like he's about to kiss you. Instead he just laughs, pulling back just enough to show you the phone again.

A clip of him spitting on the ice, something you can't even begin to explain...it's just hot. In a way that you can't fathom. It might just be because it's Clay. The idea of anyone else doing that a turn off not a turn on.

"Okay, okay, but what about these ones? You want me to spit on you too?" He's being mean, he knows he is, as you hide your face behind your hands, groaning in embarrassment, cringing away from your own phone.

"Clayton..."

There's a pause where he stops laughing, dropping the phone to the side so he can reach for your hands, pulling them away from your face so he can look at you.

"You know you can tell me if you do, right? I wanna know what makes you tick, what gets you goin' for me." He means it too. God, all Clayton ever wants is to please you. He doesn't care what that entails...so if you want him to spit on you he'll do it. If you want him to chew you up like a mouthguard he's all in. If you want him to get beaten up on the ice every night just to have something extra purple to look at he'd do it. For you he'd do it.

You shove at his shoulder but it barely moves him, frowning up at him with a pout.

"I'm telling your mum that you're a menace."

"What are you going to say? That I talk dirty to you and it's wrong? Think my mom might a bit scarred if you do that, baby." He laughs because the idea of you telling his mom anything that goes on in your bedroom is laughable. You'd never do it, you can barely talk dirty to him let alone tell his mom what he's been up to. Even if you did, his mom would just tease you about it probably. It'd be worse for you in the long run.

You throw your head back with a groan, neck long, cheek pressed into the couch cushions. Pretty. Embarrassed, but pretty. You're always pretty, it makes him lose his train of thought for a moment. It takes Clay a second just to get back to what he was going to say.

"Just talk to me...you've kept these for a reason, so why? Why all the mouthguard pics?"

You mumble under your breath, inaudible, as if you think he'll let you off the hook if you don't speak loud enough. His fingers come up to brush your hair from your face, backs of them grazing your cheek gently, softly. A reminder that he's not going to judge you, that he loves you.

"Can't hear you, sweet girl."

"I want you to bite me and mark me up like I'm that stupid mouthguard..." He's already laughing, head thrown back and it has you groaning, shoving at Clay's shoulders again, "shut up, it's embarrassing."

"It's cute." It's hot actually. His eyes already a little darker at the idea of marking you up like a personal painting, the idea that you'd let him even if you're acting all coy about it right now.

"It's embarrassing."

"What about the moustache pics?" The stupid moustache he tried to grow back in Arizona. Barely there, a laughable excuse for one especially when compared to Bainer and Schmaltzy.

"I don't know...thought you looked cute with it...even though its a pathetic attempt at facial hair." God, it was bad, you had it bad...because even that stupid moustache was cute. It made you want to kiss him. It made you want to kick your feet and squeal.

"Oh, you love me love me, huh?" He's back over you, hands on either side of your head, nose nuzzling against your own, invading your personal space because shit, you really do love him, huh? God, he loves it. He loves how openly you love him, even if you think it's embarrassing, even if you think he's going to run for the hills or laugh in your face.

"Shut up." You're mumbling, eyes looking away from his, off to the side, like he's not right up in your face right now, close enough that he might as well be kissing you.

"Well, I love you love you too."

The way he kisses you says it all really. Deep, passionate, loving like he wants to devour you because he does. God, you're it. You're everything. He loves that you keep photos and clips of him on your phone. He loves that you have an album just of him. That you screenshot pictures from the team insta and save pictures he sends you. That you love him so much that you keep that in your pocket every day.

What he doesn't tell you is that he has his own album too. Of you.

[revelboo]

Omg could we pretty pretty please get more Riptide? He reminds me of Prince Sidon form BOTW if you get that reference.

here's some photos of my boyfriend's off duty service dog as a bribe

Cute!

A New Brain Pt 2

Riptide x Reader

• No one yells back trying to contradict him, but then no one else is around. Does dibs count if another Cybertronian doesn’t witness it? “You’re my witness,” he says as you just stare up at him, eyes wide. “I called dibs.” And you just slowly nod, eyes leaking. But you agreed. That makes it official. Probably. “I’m Riptide,” he adds, shifting you in his palm and you drag yourself slightly like you’re trying to get comfortable. Making him realize that something’s wrong with your legs.

• Stuttering your own name, you risk a glance to confirm that no, you can’t just try and throw yourself out of his hand. Not without breaking your neck. So you offer him a terrified and slightly sick smile. “Where am I?” And how’d you get here? It hurt, felt like being rent apart. You’ve never felt anything like that and you never want to feel it again.

• Turning, he gestures and you shriek, grabbing his servos to make him feel guilty. “Sorry. Sorry about that. This ship is the Lost Light,” he says, gesturing with his other hand. And you’ve got your face pressed against his servos, making a funny little noise. “Sorry,” he adds again. What is that noise? A kind of hitching, wet sound.

• Swallowing against the urge to throw up, you shudder. “Please don’t do that again,” you whisper before your mind latches onto the word ship. Like space ship? Like you’re in space? “Are we in space?” Did this guy beam you up? You really are going to throw up. Eyes closing, your hands start trembling. Maybe you’re dreaming. Or hallucinating. Maybe you’re in a coma doped up on the strong stuff after having an accident? You can’t be in space, though.

• “It’s a space ship,” he says, confused. Where else would a space ship be? ‘No,’ you counter, voices shaking but firm. No? What no? “Yes?” Tries to make himself sound certain, but he has no idea how to respond or deal with your denial. Or that you’re shaking your head at him like you’re refusing to believe him. Maybe he should carry you to the bridge and let you see? Striding with you cupped to his chassis, he lets himself onto the bridge, holding you up to the vista as Rodimus turns in his chair with a frown and stares at you. “I have dibs,” Riptide growls right as you purge all over his hand.

Previous

[astars-things]

what the hell y/n

Jack hughes x daughter!reader

where jack finds vapes in y/ns room

reader is 16

warning very angst

Jack had always prided himself on being a good dad. He wasn’t perfect��far from it—but he had always tried to do right by Y/N. He worked his ass off to give her a good life, to teach her right from wrong, to make sure she knew that no matter what, she could come to him.

But now, standing in his daughter’s room, holding the evidence of her bad choices in his hands, Jack felt like a failure.

The vapes sat in his palm, neon-colored with stupid fruity flavors written across them. He gritted his teeth, his chest tight with frustration and disappointment. His little girl—the one he’d raised, protected, loved—was doing this?

His hands shook as he shoved the vapes onto the kitchen counter and waited. Y/N was out with friends, probably laughing and having the time of her life while he sat here, stewing in anger. He didn’t even know what he was going to say. How could she be so reckless? How could she be so stupid?

The front door finally opened, and Y/N walked in, humming to herself as she kicked off her shoes. Jack wasted no time.

“Y/N,” his voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

She blinked, clearly startled by his tone. “Uh, yeah?”

He pointed to the counter, jaw tight. “You want to explain what the fuck those are?”

Her eyes flicked to the vapes, and in an instant, he saw it—guilt. Panic. She tried to mask it, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know. They’re not mine.”

Jack scoffed, shaking his head. “Don’t lie to me.” His voice cracked, raw and furious. “Don’t stand there and act like this is nothing. You know better. And if you don’t, then I failed as a dad.”

Y/N’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re overreacting.”

That made Jack snap. “Overreacting?” His voice was sharp, almost a yell. “Do you even know what this shit does to you? You’re sixteen! Your brain isn’t even fully developed, and you’re putting this crap in your body?” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Everyone does it, Dad.”

Jack slammed his hand down on the counter, making her jump. “I don’t give a shit what everyone else does! You’re not everyone else—you’re my daughter!”

She swallowed, but the defiance was still there. “It’s not a big deal—”

“It is a big deal!” Jack cut her off. “Who gave them to you? Did you buy them? Did someone give them to you?”

Y/N looked away.

“Answer me!”

She huffed. “I—I got them, okay? It doesn’t matter how.”

Jack let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, it fucking matters. You think I’m just gonna let this slide? No car, no going out, and you’re giving me your phone until I decide you’ve earned it back.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “What? Dad, no—”

“You don’t get to argue with me on this,” he snapped. “You clearly can’t be trusted to make smart decisions, so I’ll make them for you.”

She let out an angry noise, turning away. “This is bullshit.”

Jack ran a hand over his face, trying to calm himself down before he said something he’d regret. His heart ached. He wasn’t just angry—he was disappointed. He’d thought she knew better. He thought she’d respect herself more than this.

The front door swung open, and Luke walked in, grinning. “Hey, Jack, you see my—” His words died when his eyes landed on the counter. His face paled. “Shit.”

Jack’s blood ran cold. Slowly, he turned to face his brother. “Your what?”

Luke swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh—”

Realization crashed over Jack like a tidal wave. His stomach churned as he looked between Luke and Y/N. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered.

Luke’s gaze flickered to Y/N, who refused to look at him. His shoulders sagged. “Y/N…”

Jack’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “You stole them from Luke?”

Silence.

Y/N stared at the floor, but she didn’t deny it.

Jack exhaled sharply, his hands shaking. “You stole from your uncle. And you thought what? That I wouldn’t find out? That I wouldn’t care?”

Y/N finally looked up, and for the first time, he saw it—the regret, the shame.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered.

Jack let out a dry laugh, completely void of humor. “Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Y/N.”

Luke cleared his throat. “Jack, maybe—”

“No, Luke,” Jack snapped, cutting him off. “She lied to me. She stole from you. And she doesn’t even think it’s a big deal.”

Y/N’s face crumbled. “I do! I—I just…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

Jack sighed, his anger still burning, but exhaustion was creeping in. “Go to your room,” he muttered.

Y/N opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she saw the look in his eyes. Defeat settled over her as she nodded, disappearing upstairs.

Jack braced himself against the counter, gripping the edge like it was the only thing holding him up.

Luke sighed. “She’s a teenager, man. She’s gonna make mistakes.”

Jack let out a bitter chuckle. “Yeah. And it’s my job to make sure those mistakes don’t ruin her life.”

Luke was silent for a moment before nodding. “You’re a good dad, Jack.”

Jack didn’t feel like it. Not tonight.

[moonselune]

Dark!BG3 | Back in my arms

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

For: Conqueror!Minthara, MotherSuperior!Shadowheart, God!Gale, Ascended!Astarion, Naturist!Halsin

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

CW: Coercion, murder, forced memory loss, toxic relationship, power imbalance

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Now you have been found, your lover enjoys having you back in their arms, even if you don't.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Conqueror Minthara:

Dragged back to Minthara's grand house, you fought and defied at every point, your spirit a fierce flame that refused to be extinguished. The opulent halls, adorned with trophies of her conquests, were a stark contrast to the dungeon you were thrown into for your persistent misbehaviour, you believe the last straw was when you pushed her top commander off of a balcony when they instructed you to get ready for dinner. Dark and cold, the dungeons echoed with the tortured cries of Minthara's other victims, a symphony of suffering that filled the air with despair. Minthara would often visit you, asking if you had were ready to submit to her wholly and every time you kicked dirt at her, that answer enough.

Days turned into weeks, and your defiance remained unbroken. Every time Minthara descended into the darkness to see you, her presence exuding a blend of anger and twisted affection, she would ask if you were ready to behave.

"Have you learned your lesson yet?" she'd inquire, her voice a cruel mockery of concern.

And every time, you would glare at her, your voice hoarse from yelling abure at the guards but nonetheless unwavering. "Never."

She would sigh, a mix of frustration and amusement in her eyes, before leaving you to the darkness once more. She wouldn't tell you this but she wanted you more to herself than she did you wasting away in the dungeons, but she had a point to make.

The conditions in the dungeon were harsh. The damp, the cold, and the lack of proper food began to take their toll. You grew weaker with each passing day, your body starting to betray you even as your spirit remained defiant. The illness came slowly at first—a persistent cough, chills, and then fever. It grew worse, until you could barely move, your strength sapped by the relentless sickness.

When Minthara came to see you one evening, her expression shifted from cruel amusement to something akin to concern. She stood at the threshold of your cell, her eyes narrowed as she took in your weakened form.

"You look terrible," she said, her tone almost gentle. "Are you ready to behave now? To be treated with the care and comfort you once had?"

You managed a weak laugh, shaking your head. "I'd rather die, iblith."

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she turned and left without another word. The days that followed were a blur of fevered dreams and agonizing pain. At the worst of times you would picture the village burniung and at the best of time you remember when you and MInthara were blissfully happy. Though you were starting to confuse the two.

The cries of the tortured around you became a distant hum, replaced by the overwhelming ache of your own suffering. When Minthara next appeared, you were too weak to even lift your head. She knelt beside you, her fingers cool against your burning skin as she checked your pulse.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered. "You're no use to me dead."

She sighed and stood up, her eyes never leaving your face. You breaths came in choked sputters. Sweat dripped from your brow.

"I can heal you, you know. I can make all this pain go away. All you have to do is obey me, my love. Just submit. Be my wife again."

In your delirium, her words seemed to echo in your mind. The word wife, burned into your brain and the pain, the suffering—it was all too much. You wanted it to stop, you wanted to go back to your fever dream. For the first time, you felt a flicker of desperation, a desire for the agony to end.

As she turned to leave, you pushed your pride aside and found the strength to reach out, your fingers brushing against her boot.

"Wait," you rasped, your voice barely audible. "Please..."

Minthara paused, her eyes widening with surprise and satisfaction. She knelt beside you again, her hand gently lifting your chin so you could meet her gaze.

"Are you ready to behave?" she asked softly. You nodded weakly, the fight draining out of you.

"Yes," you whispered. "Just make it stop. Please."

A triumphant smile spread across her face as she scooped you up effortlessly in her arms, a d as Minthara carried you from the cold, damp dungeon, your body felt like dead weight in her arms.

The journey through the opulent halls of her grand house was a surreal contrast to the darkness you had endured for weeks. Candlelit chandeliers cast flickering shadows on the marble floors, and tapestries depicting her conquests adorned the walls like trophies. You oculdn't help but melt into her arms. The way she held you so securely, the way you nestled into her chest to shy away from the harsh lights of the upper echelons of the house. Despite your weakened state, you couldn't help but notice the admiring glances and whispers of her servants as she passed by, triumphantly displaying her captured prize.

You were taken to a lavishly appointed chamber, where a large marble bath awaited. Minthara gently lowered you into the warm water, the soothing heat seeping into your chilled and feverish body. You leaned back against the edge of the bath, your muscles relaxing for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Minthara knelt beside the bath, her hands cupping water to pour over your hair, washing away the grime and sweat that clung to you. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, her fingers massaging your scalp with a tenderness that seemed at odds with her usual ruthless demeanor.

"I've missed you," she murmured, her voice low and filled with a mixture of possessiveness and longing. "You have no idea how much."

You closed your eyes, the warmth of the water and the rhythmic motion of her hands lulling you into a state of semi-consciousness. The lines between past and present blurred in your fevered mind, memories of happier times intermingling with the pain and suffering of recent weeks.

When the bath was done, Minthara wrapped you in a soft towel and carried you to the large bed at the center of the chamber. She laid you down gently, arranging the pillows behind your head so you could rest comfortably. She sat beside you, her hand brushing the damp strands of hair from your forehead.

"You're going to be alright, my love," she whispered, her voice a soothing murmur as if she hadn't inflicted this upon you. "I'll take care of you."

You looked up at her, seeing a vulnerability in her expression that you hadn't witnessed in a long time. It was a stark reminder of the complexity of her emotions, the love and possessiveness twisted with a fierce determination to keep you by her side.

As you lay there, weak and vulnerable, Minthara continued to tend to you. She fetched a healing potion from a nearby table and gently helped you drink it, the magic within it working to ease your fever and heal your weakened body. Her touch was gentle yet possessive, her fingers lingering on your skin as if afraid you might slip away from her again.

"You are my wife. You belong with me," she murmured, her voice a fervent declaration. "You always have and always will."

Her words echoed in your mind, a reminder of the bond that had once been between you, now twisted and tainted by pain and dominance. Yet, in your decrepit state, her presence offered a strange comfort. You were no longer fighting against her, but surrendering to the inevitability of her love.

As Minthara climbed into bed beside you, pulling the covers over both of you, she held you close, her arms a protective cocoon around you. You could feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back, a reassurance of her presence.

"I was a mess when I heard you had ran from me," she whispered in confession, her lips brushing against your ear. "But despite all your misgivings, my love for you has only grown. I can assure you, you will never leave my side again."

Minthara pressed a firm kiss against the side of your head and continued ot hold you. You closed your eyes in resignation, exhaustion finally overtaking you. In the darkness behind your eyelids, you saw flashes of the village burning, of the dungeons and the pain. But with every whisper of affesction and possession from Minthara, the memories blurred before being dispelled completely as you finally submitted to slumber.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Mother Superior Shadowheart:

You stirred beneath the silk sheets, your sleep fractured by nightmares you couldn’t quite remember upon waking. Night after night, these dreams clawed at your subconscious, filling you with an overwhelming sense of dread and unease.

One particularly restless night, the nightmare was more vivid than ever. You dreamt of dark corridors and whispered voices, of a cruelty that left you breathless with terror. You felt the cold hand of a specter covering your mouth, the oppressive force of its magic twisting your mind and plucking at your emotions like strings on a harp.

You woke with a start, drenched in sweat, your heart pounding against your ribcage. Tears streamed down your cheeks, and your breaths came in shallow gasps. Shadowheart, ever alert, was immediately at your side. She gathered you into her arms, holding you close as you sobbed uncontrollably against her chest.

"Shh, my love," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "It’s just a nightmare. You’re safe now, with me."

Despite her comforting words, a gut-wrenching feeling of unease gnawed at the edges of your mind. You couldn’t shake the sensation that something was profoundly wrong, though you couldn’t place what it was. Your memories were a foggy haze, filled with gaps and inconsistencies that you couldn’t quite grasp. Shadowheart's fingers stroked your hair gently, her touch both possessive and reassuring.

"Everything is okay," she whispered. "As long as you stay by my side, nothing can harm you."

Her words, though meant to comfort, felt like a cage, a reminder of a confinement you couldn’t quite remember but instinctively felt. You tried to push the feeling away, to focus on the warmth of her embrace, but your mind kept returning to that sense of flight or fight, that primal instinct screaming that something was amiss.

"Why do I keep having these dreams?" you asked, your voice trembling with confusion and fear. "Why do I feel like this?"

Shadowheart tightened her hold on you, her eyes glinting with an unreadable emotion. "I do not know my love," she lied softly. "But I will protect you from those fears. You belong here, with me."

You nodded, trying to absorb her words and let them comfort you. The love you felt for her was undeniable, an all-encompassing emotion that overshadowed the lingering doubts. Yet, the dreams persisted, and so did the feeling of unease, like a dark shadow lurking just out of sight.

"Do you trust me?" Shadowheart asked, her eyes searching yours.

"Yes," you whispered, though the word felt heavy on your tongue.

"Then rest, my love," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I will keep you safe."

With a sigh, you allowed yourself to be lulled by her soft whispers and tender touch. The warmth of her body against yours and the rhythmic motion of her fingers in your hair slowly eased the tension in your muscles. The unease lingered, a quiet whisper in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t deny the comfort of her presence.

As you drifted back into a fitful sleep, Shadowheart held you tightly, her eyes filled with a possessive determination. She knew the power she held over you, the magic that had twisted your thoughts and memories, binding you to her. And she would use that power to keep you by her side, no matter the cost.

The nights would continue, filled with fragmented dreams and a gnawing sense of unease. But as long as you remained in Shadowheart's arms, you would be safe - you assured yourself. And in the darkness, as sleep claimed you once more, you clung to the love you once felt for her, unaware of the true nature of your captivity, bound by a spell you couldn’t remember but couldn’t escape.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

God of Ambition Gale:

In the realm Gale had created, a place of grandeur and opulence, you found yourself a minor deity—lesser in power and influence, a mere reflection of Gale’s omnipotence. He had promised you a place beside him, but this was not what you envisioned. Your divine essence was that of a muse, yet not the sweet inspiration of art and creativity. Instead, you embodied a point of fixation and obsession, an eternal prisoner of Gale's ideals, your cage gilded and beautiful, yet suffocating.

Gale often held you in his arms, a possessive embrace that felt both tender and imprisoning. Together, you would listen to the prayers of mortals seeking inspiration, productivity, and more than they deserved. These prayers, driven by greed and selfish desire, seemed to amuse him greatly. He relished the thought that many mortals yearned for you, desired the touch of your divine influence, yet you were his alone.

"Listen to them," Gale would murmur, his voice a smooth blend of affection and pride. "They all want you, but they can never have you. You are mine, forever."

You would nod along, feigning agreement, but your heart ached with every passing moment. You were more than just an object of Gale's obsession, a trophy to be displayed. As you listened to the endless stream of prayers, you began to discern a different kind of plea. Hidden among the voices of greed and ambition were the prayers of those trapped in their own gilded cages—mortals who sought freedom from their obsessors, who yearned to break free from the chains of fixation.

In the quiet moments, when Gale's attention wavered, you would grant these desperate souls the strength they needed. You whispered words of encouragement, sent subtle waves of resolve, and instilled a sense of determination within them. You helped them find the courage to fight for their freedom, to succeed where you could not. Each act of defiance against their imprisoning forces became a silent rebellion, a spark of hope that you nurtured from afar.

Gale, in his ambition and arrogance, never realized the true extent of your influence. He was too fixated on having you in his arms, on possessing you completely. He reveled in the knowledge that you belonged to him, oblivious to the silent rebellion you fostered within the hearts of the mortals.

One evening, as he held you close, his fingers gently tracing patterns along your skin, you heard the prayer of a young artist, a woman trapped in an abusive relationship with her mentor. Her plea for strength was raw and heartfelt, a cry for liberation. You closed your eyes, focusing your divine power on her, infusing her with the courage she needed to break free.

"What is it, my love?" Gale asked, sensing your distraction.

"Just a prayer," you replied softly, your voice steady. "A plea for inspiration."

He smiled, satisfied, and pulled you closer. "Good. Let them yearn. Let them desire. They will never have what I possess."

As he drifted off to sleep, his grip loosening, you continued to listen to the prayers of the desperate, the trapped, and the yearning. You granted them strength and resolve, knowing that each act of defiance against their obsessions was a victory, a step toward the freedom you could never attain.

Your existence had become a paradox—a muse of fixation and obsession, yet a silent liberator for those who shared your plight. Gale, blinded by his own ambition and desire, never saw the true extent of your power. He believed he had you completely, but in your heart, you knew that your true legacy lay in the strength you bestowed upon others.

And so, you remained in Gale's arms, a gilded prisoner in his realm, but your spirit roamed free, a beacon of hope for those who dared to dream of liberation.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ascended Astarion:

The tavern had become a distant memory, a fleeting glimpse of your former life. Now, you found yourself in a dark, opulent chamber, draped in silks and shadows, a testament to Astarion's newfound power and status. The room was a blend of elegance and darkness, its decor reflecting his taste for the finer things and his ever-present thirst for control. He had claimed you, his most favored spawn, and bestowed upon you the title of his dark consort.

Days blurred into nights as you resisted the monstrous hunger that gnawed at your insides. Astarion indulged your refusal to feed, amused by your stubborn defiance. He offered you the finest blood, collected from the most exquisite of donors, but you turned away each time, determined to cling to the last vestiges of your humanity.

"Such a stubborn little thing," he would murmur, his voice filled with a mixture of irritation and admiration and he would grab your jaw and tilt your head, "But I do love a challenge."

One night, as the full moon cast its eerie light through the tall windows, you found yourself growing weaker. The hunger was a constant, gnawing ache that left you trembling and light-headed. Astarion watched you with a predatory gaze, his patience wearing thin. What was once an amusement turned into an annoyance, you were not fun to play with, collapsed on the floor.

He approached you with a deliberate grace, his movements fluid and precise. Without a word, he scooped you up in his arms, your weakened state rendering you powerless to resist. Though you tried to protest he simply mocked you and carried on forward. He took you to his throne, an imposing structure of dark wood and velvet, and settled you on his lap. Your head resting against his chest as his cold hands caressed your face, tracing the lines of your jaw with an almost tender touch.

"You've tested my patience long enough, my darling," he said softly, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "If you won't drink from a golden chalice, then perhaps straight from the source will suffice."

Your heart raced as you realized what he intended. "Please, Astarion," you pleaded, your voice a trembling whisper. You tried to get away from him to move, but your hunger strike had led you powerless and Astarion held you in his arms with ease. "Don't do this."

Astarion's lips curled into a cruel smile, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. He beckoned, and a young adult human was brought before you, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and resignation. The scent of fresh blood filled the air, and your resolve wavered.

"Drink," Astarion commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "You need it, and I will not have my consort wasting away."

The human extended their wrist towards you, the pulse of their heartbeat a siren call to your starving senses. You hesitated, but the hunger was too powerful, too overwhelming to resist any longer. With a reluctant sigh, you grasped the offered wrist and sank your fangs into the tender flesh. The taste of warm, rich blood flooded your mouth, and you drank hungrily, your body reviving with every drop.

Astarion watched with a mixture of satisfaction and possessive delight. His hand stroked your hair as you fed, his touch both comforting and possessive.

"That's it, my dear," he cooed, his voice a dark lullaby. "Drink your fill. You are mine, and I will ensure you are always well taken care of."

As you drank, the human's life essence seeping into you, you felt a twisted sense of relief. The hunger was sated, if only temporarily, and the strength began to return to your limbs. But with it came the inescapable knowledge of your predicament, the realization that you were bound to Astarion in a way that went beyond mere affection or loyalty. You were his, and he would never let you go.

When you finally released the human, they unceremoniously crumpled to the floor, quickly dragged off to be sloppy seconds for the others under Astarion's thrall. You tried to get up to move, but a lidded satiation overtook you as your body took in what it had desired for so long. Astarion pulled you close, his lips brushing your temple in a mockery of tenderness.

"See how good it feels to accept your place, my little love?" he murmured. "You belong to me, and I will always take care of you."

Despite the horror of your situation, a part of you couldn't deny the comfort of his embrace, the seductive pull of his dark promise. As you nestled against him, the room fading into a blur of shadows and silks, you wondered how much of yourself you had lost, and how much more you were willing to surrender to the man you once loved, now a godling born of malice.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Naturist Halsin:

Days turned into weeks as you settled into the new grove, a pristine yet haunting reflection of the wilds that Halsin now commanded with a fierce and unyielding grip. The routine you adopted was one of quiet resignation, a means of finding solace in the monotony of daily tasks. You busied yourself tending to the grove, your hands working the soil and nurturing the plants that thrived under the druid’s watchful eye. The other druids kept their distance, their silence a tacit acknowledgment of your unique position in Halsin's domain.

Animals, ever-present and vigilant, became your constant companions. Their eyes followed you wherever you went, a silent network of spies ensuring that Halsin always knew your whereabouts. It was a constant reminder of your captivity, their gaze a chain that kept you bound to this new life.

Despite the isolation, you found small moments of escape in the pages of a worn book you had managed to keep hidden. When your chores were done, you would steal away to a secluded meadow, its vibrant flowers and tall grasses offering a brief respite from the ever-watchful eyes of the forest. One afternoon, you lay down in the soft grass, the book resting on your chest as you closed your eyes. The gentle hum of insects and the whisper of the breeze through the trees lulled you into a peaceful slumber.

Hours later, Halsin prowled the grove, a growing sense of unease gnawing at him. He had not seen you for some time, and though his spies assured him you were safe, his heart ached with a fear that you had somehow managed to escape again. His steps quickened, his eyes scanning the surroundings until he finally reached the meadow.

There, nestled among the flowers, he found you. Your face was serene, free from the usual tension and fear that had become your constant companions. Halsin's breath caught in his throat at the sight, a mix of relief and a deep, possessive tenderness washing over him. He approached silently, his movements as fluid and graceful as a predator stalking its prey.

Carefully, he lay down beside you, his arms encircling you with a possessive tenderness. The warmth of his body against yours stirred you from your sleep, and your eyes fluttered open. Panic surged through you as you realized who held you, and you began to struggle against his embrace.

"Hush," Halsin whispered, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear. "You’re safe, my heart. I’m here."

Your resistance waned as the exhaustion of your efforts and the gentleness of his voice overpowered your will to fight. You settled back into his arms, your body tense but no longer struggling. Halsin’s fingers traced delicate patterns on your skin, a touch that was both reassuring and a reminder of his dominance.

"I worry for you," he said softly, his breath warm against your ear. "When I can't find you, my mind races with fears of losing you again."

"You don't own me, Halsin," you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

He sighed, a sound filled with both frustration and affection. "I don’t wish to own you, but to keep you safe. The world is harsh, and I have seen too much destruction to risk losing what I love most."

A heavy silence settled between you, broken only by the distant call of birds and the rustling of leaves. Despite everything, a part of you yearned for the gentle druid you had once known, the man who had loved nature without resorting to violence.

As you lay there, the meadow’s tranquility enveloping you both, Halsin tightened his hold, his voice a low, soothing murmur. "Rest, my love. I will watch over you."

And so, you closed your eyes once more, surrendering to the inevitability of your situation. In his arms, you found a twisted semblance of peace, a fragile illusion of safety that masked the underlying turmoil. The meadow's beauty was a stark contrast to the darkness that had consumed Halsin’s heart, and as you drifted back to sleep, the boundaries between love and captivity blurred, leaving you in a liminal space of conflicting emotions and quiet despair.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Did some more Dark!BG3 to warm up my wiritng skills before tackling my inbox. Arranged Marriage! Minthara will be my next piece of own writing up.

Also massive thank you and hello to all of my new followers, I was so worried that going away would cause a quick death to my channel but all the love and support I have been receiving - gods I could cry. Apreciate y'all and hope you enjoyed this - Seluney xox

[sillygoofyqueer]

My brain right now: *screaming sobbing shaking* GUYS WE'RE ON A SCHEDULE IT'S BEDTIME SOON!!! The other half of my brain: SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! MAD SCIENTIST AU! WE MUST PREVAIL!!! Let's look at how everyone's doing since Wei Wuxian 'died', starting with Xue Yang and the Wen siblings!! *checks notes* Okayyy, sssooooo....they're all depressed and hate everything. Ever since Wei Wuxian 'died', there have been two mini wars - the Wen siblings + Xue Yang against all of the Wen, and then Xue Yang against literally all of the Wen. He tolerates Wen Qing and Wen Ning more than the rest of them because at least they actually cared about Wei Ying and he can sort of see why they never told he and Wei Ying about the truth (see, this is Wei Ying's influence at work because he would never do this in canon). Despite this, he still fucking despises the fact that they lied to them, something that led to Wei Ying's breakdown and demise. He would be alive if they had just told them the truth. Even though Xue Yang does know the truth, he also has to pretend that he doesn't so that he doesn't end up dead like Wei Ying.

The Wen really don't trust the Wen siblings or Xue Yang anymore, not after what happened to Wei Wuxian (and Wen Zhuliu), so they send them to Yiling both to head a supervisory office and for 'practical research'. Yes, this is also to mock them by reminding them of their dearest brother, the last one to lash out against the Wen and died because of it. Xue Yang is even more infuriated by this, and becomes a lot more volatile with everyone around him, clinging to all of Wei Ying's work and trying desperately to break the code of the notes so that he can connect with his gege again, so he can hear his voice and be reminded of how brilliant he always was. Not only does he hate the Wens, but he also despises the Nies for their part in Wei-gege's death. Nie Huaisang was the one who broke the news to Wei-gege, and Wei-gege had a qi deviation because of it. He makes it very clear that Nie Huaisang killed Wei-gege, and then refuses to keep up the communication they once had.

Nie Huaisang feels sick when he receives a note that only says 'Wei Wuxian was beaten and thrown into the Burial Mounds because of you.' He had begun to see Wei Wuxian as a friend, as a confidant that he could gossip and joke with, and now he's learned that Wei Wuxian was caught and handed a fate worse than death because of it. He panics, he hyperventilates, and it all comes spilling out to Nie Mingjue when he finds him. Nie Mingjue should be mad, he will be mad, but not while his didi is like this - even afterwards, when he's calmed down, Mingjue just cannot fully yell at him because Didi looks so miserable and guilty. So he grumbles something about "at least not all Wen are monsters" and asks to see all of the letters that Wei Wuxian had sent to Nie Huaisang just to be sure - if this boy truly was good, and had died an awful death, then he deserves Nie Mingjue's respect (He is good, of course he's good).

Meanwhile, Wei Ying is really going through it in the Burial Mounds. Even with the apparent coddling from It, he's still basically trying not to die all of the fucking time because Mama doesn't raise a weakling!! He's limping along with his fucked up legs, trying to find food and a water source and anything to hold the water source in and something to make a fire in and - sigh. He's in literally constant pain, with bad days and really fucking bad days, and the only light in the darkness (aside from the Burial Mounds whispering love and encouragement in his mind) is the qiankun pouch that he finds tucked into his inner robes. A cherished blanket to wrap around him and keep him a little warm without his usual layers, his beloved Suibian brings so much comfort and protection to him, pages upon pages of notes that will surely prove helpful in his environment, and! The sword from the Xuanwu, having been tucked in for safekeeping. It whispers to him.

Of course, during his time in the Burial Mounds, Wei Ying is most certainly changing. He's becoming more fucked up by the second with all of the spirits and voices whispering to him, a constant low murmur in the back of his mind that sometimes becomes screams for blood at any sign or thought of violence. He obsesses over all of his notes, all of the half-formed thoughts dancing through his mind, and rejects modao - it's not like he has any living humans around anyway - instead creating another new branch of cultivation based around ghosts. Guidao. He forgets to eat and sleep for days upon end without anyone there to bully him into taking care of himself, and the Burial Mounds equal parts forgetting and just generally unaware what is good for humans. He's working with resentful energy all of the time, he's made his own flute and is weaving it into every experiment. He's experimenting on himself. He's changing.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

I'm Sorry

Young!Haymitch Abernathy x Reader

Summary: Moments of Haymitch having to mentor his ex-girlfriend

Warnings: Canon-level violence, implied smut, cheating, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5.1K

Masterlist

“Haymitch!” I called my boyfriend’s name as he stepped off the train. He had just won the Hunger Games. Not just the Hunger Games, the second Quarter Quell. Where he competed with 47 other tributes. When he had won I was ecstatic and couldn’t wait for him to come home. But then I went to his family’s home and found nothing but the bleeding bodies of his parents and younger brother.

When he finally reached me, having to fight through the throngs of excited District 12 citizens, he wiped away my tears with a smile, mistaking them for tears of joy. “I’m back, sweetheart,” he smiled, pressing his forehead to mine. But as he pulled away he noticed my lack of a smile. “What?” he asked, fear creeping into his throat.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried, handing him his parents’ wedding rings. He immediately knew what that means.

“No,” he tried to deny, shaking his head. “No.”

~~

“Y/N L/N,” the district escort’s voice rang out as he called my ex-girlfriend’s name. I was honestly surprised I had managed to comprehend it at all given that the crowd was a blurry haze and every word was melted together in my brain. But I saw her clearly as she walked up to the stage, fear and rage on her face. I assumed fear for the games, rage for me.

She had been there for me as I grieved my family’s death. Even when I pushed her away she was there for me. She was killing herself for me while I poisoned myself with booze and hate. All until I couldn’t handle her care and my rage anymore so I picked a fight.

“Can you not?!” I yelled as she tried to clean up my new house a little. “Just fucking leave it.”

Her sad expression, I regret to say, brought me satisfaction. I loved to hurt her for no reason. A small part of me was pained to hurt her, I think that’s what allowed me to push her away rather than trap her with my hate. “Sorry,” she murmured softly.

“Yeah you’ve said that before,” I spat, poison dripping from my words. “Why are you still here?”

She sighed, biting her lip. I could see she was silently debating whether or not she’d open herself up to being attacked by my again. “Because I love you,” she admitted painfully, tears pricking her eyes.

I scoffed. “Well I don’t love you anymore.” A small piece of my heart broke as I watched her shatter. I had spent weeks abusing her, something a part of me reveled in, but I had never hurt her this bad.

She nodded her head compassionately. “I understand.” And with that, she walked out of my life for what I thought would be forever. The part of me that had reveled in her pain immediately became regretful as I watched her go. My regret only continued to grow as I kept tabs on her throughout her life.

I tried to catch her eye as she took her place next to our escort but she refused to spare a glance at me. I understood, I had tortured her when I got back and had spent the better part of a year borderline stalking her.

I glanced at the crowd, finding her new boyfriend of five months, Rune, standing there, slack jawed. I rolled my eyes at the oaf as the male tribute’s name was called, Landon Caleban. Of course Rune didn’t volunteer to protect his girl. I would’ve. Eleven months ago I would’ve laughed at her reaping but now that my anger had faded a little, I would give anything to take her place.

As she was escorted into the capital building, I followed, immediately going into the room she went into. She had barely sat down by the time I entered and it broke my heart that she looked so surprised to see me. “Y/N…”

“What are you doing here, Haymitch?” she asked coldly.

“Well,” I began, taking a seat across from her, “I am your mentor. And… I also care about you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well you sure as hell didn’t care about me when you told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

I looked down at my shoes, ashamed. “I know and I'm sorry. I’d take back everything if I could. I was hurt, and angry, and god… I felt so powerless.”

“And I was your helpless punching bag?” she finished for me, disgust in her eye.

I nodded regretfully. “I made you, the girl I love who did nothing but support me, into a punching bag,” I confirmed, still looking at the ground in shame.

“Loved,” was all she said. I looked at her quizzically causing her to roll her eyes again. “You said ‘girl I love.’ You should say loved.”

“No, I still love you,” I insisted.

“You’re the one who said you didn’t love me anymore.”

“That’s because I had a lot of misplaced anger,” I insisted. “Yes, I know it’s not fair that I took everything out on you and I have no right to try to tell you I love you but I do.”

“Well what good does that do me? I’m being marched to my deat-”

“Don’t!” I cut her off “…fucking say that. You’re not fucking dying. I’m your mentor, I’ll get you out of there.”

Before she could respond, the door creaked open. I knew even before he spoke that it was Rune. “Babe, oh my god.” I cringed as I knew she hated being called that. He rushed over to her side, taking her hand in his. “I don’t even know what to say… I just…”

She shook her head dismissively. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I promise I won’t date anyone else for a while,” he said genuinely, as if it were a touching thing to say. Even I knew that was probably the worst thing he could say. Y/N also stared up at him, a baffled look on her face. She made no verbal indication she heard him so I did. I scoffed, catching the little twerp’s attention. Upon seeing me, his face immediately soured. He knew who I was, what I had meant to Y/N. Everyone in 12 knew we were a couple. “Don’t you have a bottle of whiskey to down yourself in, Haymitch?” he sneered.

I just chuckled at his attempt to tell me to stay out of it. “Maybe you should try treating her decently and saying goodbye instead of planning your next random hookup.”

“You’re one to talk about ‘treating her decently,’” Rune immediately mocked.

Before I could respond, Y/N stood up. “Both of you shut up and get out.”

I started to say her name, hoping she wouldn’t kick me out too but she cut me off, insisting we both go. So I went reluctantly, making sure Rune left too. I’d be damned if I ever let him have a moment alone with her ever again.

As soon as we stepped into the hall, a woman I recognized as Y/N’s mother rushed in, tears in her eyes. As the door closed, Rune stepped close to me. “I know what you’re planning, Abernathy. But she’s not going back to you. You’re just a useless, 17 year old drunk who broke her heart. And I’m not gonna let you break her again.”

Some part of me knew he was right, I shouldn't be inserting myself in her life again but I had been missing her for the past eleven months. And now it was also my job to keep her alive despite only winning last year.

Not one to let Y/N’s rebound talk me down, I retaliated. “At least I actually believe in her and actually want to see her come out of this alive.”

Offense crossed over his face. “You don’t get to say that. You got lucky. We all know the odds, especially with you as a mentor. I’m her boyfriend, you blew your chance!” he yelled before storming off. I wanted to yell after him but I didn’t know what to say that hasn’t been said already so I just clenched my jaw before heading to the train.

~

I didn’t see Y/N again until we arrived at the Capitol. Probably for the best, I spent the two day journey sleeping and getting shitfaced. I hadn’t been back to the Capitol since my victory tour and I had absolutely no desire to go back but I’d be stuck doing this shit until there were two more victors.

When we all finally got off the train I finally saw her. She looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept since she was reaped. I honestly understood. I tried to catch her eye but she seemed determined to look everywhere but me. And before I could try to approach her, she was whisked off to styling. So reluctantly I went to the penthouse until the tribute parade.

~

I stood with the other mentors, watching the tribute parade. My heart stopped when I saw the District 12 chariot. The camera never bothered to focus on them long but from the glimpse I saw, Y/N was hardly clothed. As was typical for District 12 tributes. The stylists were a big fan of just dumping black powder on us.

By the time the tributes were re-entering the building, all the mentors were waiting to bring their tributes back upstairs. Heading over to the last chariot I found Landon helping Y/N down from the chariot. She struggled in her stilettos and mini black skirt. I averted my gaze from her mostly bare torso, the only thing covering her was a lace top shaped to look like smoke. Along with an unhealthy dose of black powder to portray the coal-mines. Something they did practically every year. I kept my gaze firmly on her from the shoulders up. It felt like a violation of her privacy to ogle her like all the Capitol citizens or how I would have back when we were together.

I managed to meet her gaze but she quickly looked away, refusing to look at me again. Even in the elevator I caught myself staring at her longingly, just wishing she’d at least look at me. But she never did. As we stepped into the penthouse I let her go to her room. Remembering how exhausted she must have been, I had sleeping pills sent to her room along with a steak.

~

The next morning I sat at the table in the main room of the penthouse, eating breakfast. My attention was caught by Landon and Y/N heading to the elevator for training. I couldn’t help but admire the way the athletic clothing hugged her body. But as I noticed what I was doing, I averted my gaze back down to my food. It wasn’t until I heard a throat clearing that I looked back up at the pair. Y/N was looking at me, a conflicted and grateful look on her face. “Thanks for the uh… stuff, last night,” she thanked quietly.

“No problem,” I replied, in slight awe that she was talking to me. She just gave me a slight smile of acknowledgement before stepping into the elevator and disappearing.

I spent the next several minutes just staring at my plate grateful that I was finally getting somewhere with her.

~

I watched anxiously as Y/N took the stage for her interview. She looked absolutely stunning. Of course I always thought she was stunning but I had to admit, some of the Capitol glamours I could get behind. She was practically glowing under the lights, makeup drawing attention to her best features.

As always, everything was in a slight haze but when Caesar asked her a certain question, it sobered me up a bit. “So is there anyone back home that you’re fighting for?”

Y/N did her best to give a graceful smile. She knew how to appeal to the audience. “Well, my mom is back home rooting for me. I can count on her for that.”

“How sweet. Any boys?” he suggested cheekily.

I watched as uncertainty crossed her face before she answered. “Yes,” she answered, her voice noticeably weak, “my boyfriend, Rune.”

“Aw, well isn’t that so sweet, huh folks?” The crowd made coos of sympathy. “Tell me, did he visit you before he left?”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice cracking slightly again. “He said…” she trailed off before she seemed to decide what to say. “He said he couldn’t wait to see me after the games and that he loves me.” She gave a weak smile and my heart broke. I couldn’t believe she was lying to make this guy look good when I was the one who was actually there for her. Ever since she had thanked me for the food and sleeping pills, our relationship had improved. She no longer ignored and avoided my presence and conversation attempts. We had engaged in a few polite conversations and had even slipped back into old habits. One night, at dinner, Landon mentioned wanting to ally himself with the careers. To which Y/N and I instinctually shared a look of ridicule. I could feel my heart swell every time we interacted more like we used to. But an unreasonable amount of hurt rang in my chest as she essentially defended her dirtbag boyfriend.

I didn’t even bother to finish watching her interview, I just went straight upstairs to my room in the penthouse, bringing a bottle of vodka with me.

I don’t know how long I was laying there watching some stupid reality tv show when the door opened. In stepped Y/N in a sweater so long it looked like her legs were bare. Her face was cleaned of makeup, leaving a fresh look and I could see the exaggerated curls in her hair that remained from her updo. She just stood in the doorway, hugging herself, until I spoke. “Y/N,” I said a little too eagerly, having never expected to see her in my room again after I ended things. “Wh-what’s up?” I tried to ask casually.

She shrugged. “I’m here to drink,” was all she said.

Sitting further up, I held the bottle out to her, simultaneously gesturing to the bed to offer her a seat. She took both, perching herself at the foot of the bed, her legs crossed so she was looking at me. She took a deep swig from the bottle, cringing as she pulled it away. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her expression, she never got used to the taste and burn of alcohol. She noticed my expression and smiled slightly. “You know I hate the taste,” she explained, the slightest teasing tone in her voice.

“I remember,” I smiled fondly. “The only thing you liked was that flavored shit we got off that peacekeeper.”

She smiled, looking at the bottle in her hand. “Yeah, that was good. I got so drunk that night,” I got a genuine laugh out of that comment and it made my stomach do cartwheels.

“So what brings you here tonight?” I asked as she passed me the bottle.

“Well I’m being marched to my death tomorrow,” she laughed bitterly. Before I could try to console her she met my gaze. “How did you feel before you went in?”

I pondered for a second, trying to recall. “I was afraid,” I admitted. “I thought that there was no way in hell I’d survive but I wasn’t ready to die.” She hummed, nodding. I took another swig of vodka before passing it to her. “Why’d you lie about Rune during your interview?”

“You saw that?” sha asked. “I didn’t know you watched. The other mentors were there but you weren’t.” She noticed I wasn’t there? “I guess I just wanted them to think I had a reason to live,” she sighed. “I don’t really know what I was thinking but I figured bashing my-still-technically-boyfriend on national television wasn’t the best idea.”

“‘Still-technically-boyfriend?’” I questioned. “Y/N, he basically said that when, not if, when you were gone he’d be dating other girls. He’s not your boyfriend anymore.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We never officially said that we were broken up so it feels wrong to bash him.”

“Fuck him, fuck his feelings!” I insisted. She laughed a little at my exaggerated outburst.

“I guess I just feel like I still have an obligation to him. Like I can’t move on before we have the conversation and I may never get to have the conversation,” she mused ruefully.

I scooted closer to her, placing my fingers under her chin to make her look at me. A move from when we were together. “Hey, what do you mean obligation?” I found pain in her eyes as I asked.

She hesitated before answering me. But as she did she averted her gaze as if in shame. “You said you still love me?” she asked meekly.

My heart broke at her doubt. “Of course I do,” I promised, bringing her gaze back up again. “I never stopped. Yeah, I was angry and I took it out on you and I never should have. But I love you.” She hesitated with her next words and I took the chance to kiss her. She immediately melted into my lips much to my relief. I pulled her closer until she was practically perched in my lap, the bottle of liquor on the nightstand long forgotten.

~

The automatic alarm controlled by the Capitol went off at 6 am. As I shut the damn thing up I rolled back over, resuming my place cuddled up to Y/N. Both my arms were wrapped around her waist, my head cuddled into the crook of her neck. She groaned at having been woken up, probably a little hungover. “Morning,” I murmured into her bare shoulder. She just groaned again. This time I figured it was a groan of remembering what day it was. “C’mon,” I said, pushing myself up to rest on my hands, “you need to eat breakfast.”

She rolled over reluctantly, finally meeting my face. “Can’t even think about eating.”

“I know but you’ll thank yourself for eating later,” I advised, getting out of bed and throwing some clothes on. She followed suit, heading to the door. As I tried to follow, she stopped me.

“Wait, come out in a couple minutes.”

“Why? Are you embarrassed of me?” I asked only mildly genuinely.

“No,” she dismissed genuinely, placing a hand on my arm. “How’s it gonna look to Landon when I come out of your bedroom with you? With terrible bed head?” she added jokingly. I just hummed in agreement, gesturing for her to continue.

A few moments later I joined both Y/N and Landon before they were both ushered off.

~

The entire games I was a mess. I was ashamed to admit that I couldn’t remember most of it, too wracked with worry. I only ever sobered up enough to watch the rundowns of what had happened that day, listening for Y/N’s name when they listed the deceased.

I thanked whatever cruel deity was out there that Y/N survived another day. And when they told me she won, I wanted to break down crying in relief.

By the time I was able to see her, she was still very injured. She laid in the hospital bed, asleep, and it took everything in me not to shake her awake for reassurance that she was still in fact alive. But instead I settled for grasping her warm hand and listening to the rhythmic beep of her heart through the monitor. They kicked me out periodically to work on healing her and a day later, when they let me back in the room, her eyes were fluttering open.

“Y/N,” I uttered. My voice had an unexpectedly broken sob but if she noticed, she didn’t care. She sat up as best as she could as I enveloped her in a hug as tightly as possible without hurting her. “You’re alive.”

“I’m okay,” she assured me. I could feel her fingers in my hair, her other hand rested against my shoulder as she hugged me as close as possible. With as much strength as her weakened, malnourished frame would allow.

I finally pulled away, my hand cupping her face as I admired her face. She had scrapes on her face and a bruised jaw but it was otherwise unmarred. “I love you,” I whispered before pressing my lips to hers.

~

I stood behind Y/N as she stepped off the train, smiling down at her as the crowd cheered. She just stood there on the platform for a moment, seemingly in a daze. I couldn’t be more thrilled in this moment. Of course we were both shattered, both fragments of who we used to be before the games. But we were holding each other together nonetheless. I was just so grateful she made it. The picture-perfect happiness was shattered by a shout.

“Y/N!” Rune’s voice broke through the crowd. My mood immediately dropped. Ever since that night we spent together I had forgotten about the twerp.

Y/N seemed to hardly register his presence as he jumped up on the platform. He was immediately kissing her, dipping her into what would be a picture-perfect photo if it weren’t for what happened and the fact that she was visibly uncomfortable. When they broke away, he pulled her back up to her feet before pulling her in closely once again to pose for the camera. All the while, Y/N looked visibly uncomfortable from even just the rear.

I wanted to punch him. I wanted to rip the douchebag away from her and inform him that she didn’t love him. But for the sake of not creating an incredibly public, embarrassing scenario for her, I kept my fists at my sides and my mouth shut.

Y/N managed to pull away from him, disappearing into the crowd with peacekeeper escorts. Rune tried to follow after her but I stepped up to him quickly. “Hey, don’t count on this five second of fame,” I informed him in an admittedly snide tone.

He looked deeply unhappy to see me. “She’ll be my wife soon enough. She declared her love for me on national television. You didn’t do that for her,” he remarked smugly.

I glanced around, noticing most of the crowd and cameras were gone. “She never said that she loved you,” I corrected. “Besides, why’d she spend the night in my bed after that interview then?”

A dark look crossed over his face. “You didn’t. She would never.”

I admit that it’s juvenile but pride swelled in my chest as I watched him become increasingly indignant. “She did. She told me she only said that because she felt obliged to and then we slept together.”

Rage filled his features. “You’re lying, Abernathy. I know you are. What’s your game? Are you hoping that if you tell enough people you slept together she’ll just come back to you out of shame? That’s pathetic.”

I took a step closer to him, getting in his face. “You’re the one refusing to accept the truth. That makes you the pathetic one.”

Rune just looked at me with disgust. “Whatever, I guess we’ll both just have to get the truth from her tonight.”

I shrugged with a smirk. “I guess we will.”

~

I hardly even caught a glimpse of Y/N the entire day as she was too busy being pulled in every direction. Her mom was all to eager to welcome her back into her home while the district officials were trying to get them moved into their new home in Victor’s Village next to mine. Then, of course, there were the people she didn’t really know who were all too eager to suck up to the newest victor, hoping to gain a little bit of fame and wealth. And then finally, there was Rune who was practically stitching himself to her side. I was debating whether or not I should go to her and rescue her from the overwhelming-ness of being a victor and Rune’s attempts. But I decided against it, not wanting to add to her stress and because I feared that if that little bitch opened his mouth I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from punching him.

It wasn’t until the welcome back party a few of her friends threw for her that I got a chance to speak with her.

As I approached her in the crowded room, I held out a shot glass. “Grapefruit vodka?” She smiled, taking it from me.

“Where did you get this?”

“I requested a bottle before we left the Capitol,” I smiled down at her. “Congratulations, Y/N, seriously. I know the party and the drinks are a meager consolation but you deserve it,” I professed, bringing her into a hug.

She hugged me tightly in return. “Thank you, Haymitch. For everything.”

“Of course,” I returned, pulling away from the hug but still keeping her in my arms. I reached a hand up to her face. “I love you,” I professed, kissing her. Which she returned. Until she was literally ripped from my grasp. As I was wrenched back into reality I saw Rune holding Y/N by her arm.

“What the hell, Y/N?” he yelled at her.

“Hey, back off,” I told him, moving to get his grip off of her arm. But he just stumbled back, tugging her along with him.

“No, what the hell is going on?” he demanded, looking at Y/N. “I thought you hated him.”

She shook her head. “Maybe for a bit I did but you don’t get to act all incredulous, Rune. After I got reaped you said you wouldn’t date anyone else ‘for a while,’” she mocked his words. “You couldn’t even wait until I was dead. I know about Selene Ducote. While I was fucking fighting for my life you were more concerned about getting your dick wet than seeing if I’d survive. You were depending on my death.”

Rune stood there, still gripping her arm, flabbergasted. “Yeah well, you slept with Haymitch.”

“Yeah, I did” she freely admitted, “and now I don’t feel guilty about it.”

Rage filled Rune’s face as he clenched his jaw. His free hand moved to grip her jaw, “Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna end things with him,” he nodded to me with disgust, “and we’re gonna get married because I know that you are in love with me.” He sent a final glare to me and I noticed his grip tightening. “Am I clear, you fucking slut?”

Now it was my turn to be filled with rage. Before I knew what was happening, I was throwing a punch at Rune’s face. He crumpled and would have brought Y/N down with him if it weren’t for the fact that I caught her around the waist. By now, the rest of the crowd had noticed us and were unsure of who’s side to take. Because while everyone had known Rune and Y/N were dating, they had also been aware of our relationship and took notice of the way she was huddled against my chest.

Rune got up, intending to punch me in return but Y/N pulled out of my arms, stepping up to him. “Enough, Rune,” she chastised him. “We’re over. We’ve been over. You’re making this so much more pathetic for yourself.” Seeing as the guest of honor had clearly made her allegiance known, the other attendees began booing him out. I only caught a glimpse of him walking out in shame because Y/N was stood in front of me again. She cupped my jaw, reaching up to kiss me.

Later that night we were both sat in her kitchen as she attempted to heal my hand that had admittedly been a little banged up when I punched Rune. We were both a little drunk so I was grateful her mom was back at her old house.

I hissed as she dabbed rubbing alcohol against my split knuckles. “If you take a swig maybe it won’t hurt so much,” she giggled.

I chuckled, admiring her blissful expression. “You can’t drink this type of alcohol sweetheart,” I explained gently. She pouted softly but didn’t say anything else as she focused on my hand.

When she deemed my hand disinfected enough, she pulled away. “I need something to wrap it with. Maybe there’s some cloth?” she suggested. She went to the cabinets, rummaging through them. Most of them were empty but a few had supplies that came with the house.

As she was looking, I quickly began to miss her touch so I got up. I wrapped my arms around her from behind, trapping her between my body and the counter. I pressed my face into her shoulder and the crook of her neck, pressing kisses into her skin. “I don’t need a bandage,” I slurred in assurance. “I won the 50th Hunger Games.”

“And I won the 51st,” she countered.

“I beat 47 others,” I argued playfully as she spun in my arms so she was facing me.

She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Shut up,” she laughed before kissing me.

Masterlist

[koralinewrites]

Okay so I’m having Lost Eden thoughts and I need to rant about it. I know people don’t like it, but Laito’s route is actually so good in this game. Something I like about it is that it shows more of the ‘family’ side of the Sakamaki’s, something you don’t really ever get in other games, besides the occasional show of brotherly love from Ayato. But okay, back to Lost Eden. There will be spoilers for the story below.

For those who don’t know, basically Karheinz dies and gives his ‘Demon King’ powers to whoever you pick to romance. The bad thing about this is that Laito wants NOTHING to do with Karlheinz or his powers; he’d rather not remember that he was related to that man. 

Something I like to think of is that when Laito doesn’t want to acknowledge something uncomfortable, he just stuffs it in a glass jar in his mind and closes the lid as tight as possible. What this results in is something that would normally be just the tiniest slip of those emotions becomes a giant explosion of everything that was pushed down. When this man breaks, he breaks HARD.

This is shown well in Dark Fate when he learns what Karlheinz did (the fact that everything — his and his family’s trauma — was an experiment and carefully planned). But I’ve already made a post about Laito’s crashout and this is about Lost Eden.

ANYWAYS, (I’m summarizing and skipping things just to get my point across, so I’d suggest reading the translations if you want the full story) Laito ends up making a deal with Kino to kill his brothers. The thought process is that ‘oh, my brothers don’t care for me so this should be fine’ or something similar.

This thought process is QUICKLY proven incorrect by Ayato when the two are facing off. It’s Laito vs Ayato, Laito trying to kill Ayato. Ayato doesn’t fight back besides defending himself, and he basically yells at Laito about how MUCH he and the rest of the brothers actually do care for and worry about him. Ever since Laito got Karlheinz’s powers, he was more irritable and worse mentally than before, and the others RECOGNIZED that. And they were worried for their brother.

This realization kinda shell-shocks Laito, enough to not kill his brothers. This part makes me so sick (in the best way) because it’s basically just Ayato shaking Laito, being like “Yes, dumbass, we’re worried sick about you because we fucking care!” And Laito’s just “…you guys… care…?”

Another example of the familial relationship shown in this game is when Yui gets kidnapped by Kino and taken away to wherever he lives. Laito is about ready to CRASH OUT at that point, and the others recognize that. So what do they do?

THEY LOOK FOR YUI.

They try to figure out where Yui is FOR LAITO’S SAKE. And Laito himself is, once again, stunned. That they’re being nice, that they care.

And the answer his brain comes up with is that “Oh, you’re just scared that I can kill you with the powers I have.”

This part is quite funny, as Ayato is like “oh, motherfucker AGAIN?!! How many times do we have to TEACH YOU THIS LESSON???? THAT WE CARE????”

But it gets better when fucking SHU chimes in with something akin to “Is that REALLY the only reason you think we’d be helping you…?” And when Laito says “duh?” Shu just… gives the biggest sigh and replies like “Y’know what, believe what you want. I’m not fighting this.”

(All dialogue is paraphrased to get the point across, seriously go read translations cause they do a way better job-)

But THIS is why I can’t hate Lost Eden. This, right here, the fact that, okay YES it’s the bare minimum when it comes to familial relationships, but it shows that they actually CARE. That they CAN be a true family, that they CAN worry for each other, that they CAN help each other. And something so tragic is that Laito almost basically refuses to see it, despite them literally yelling at him and waving big signs in front of his face.

There’s nothing anyone can say to make me dislike this game, at least Laito’s route. Because, in a route where you’re basically alone most of the time with only one or two other brothers talking to you besides Laito, these family moments are so pure and I cherish every one.

[demigod-shenanigans]

I still cannot be bothered to figure out how to deal with chapter six right now so instead I’m spinning a bunch of Next Gen thoughts around in my head that are based on this same universe and not doing anything with those either

[flemingsfreckles]

I’ll Look After You

Synopsis: you and Jessie are still adjusting to life with a baby, Jessie notices that you’ve been struggling more and more recently, until you break.

Warnings: mentions of postpartum depression and anxiety, language

WC: 2.7k

A/N: hi, I haven’t posted in a while, just sort of been struggling, work has kicked my ass, and my motivation has just drained a bit but I’m trying to get back into it.

The first noise Jessie hears after the jingling of her keys in the sound of crying. It’s not an uncommon noise in your household, it’s an everyday, every couple of hours occurrence. But what she notices is the crying isn’t just that of your five month old daughter. She can also tell there’s the sound of an adult crying.

She quickly places the diapers and bag of baby clothes she had purchased on the counter and makes her way to your daughter's room.

She walks into the nursery to a scene that breaks her heart. You’re sitting in the rocking chair, your daughter resting in your lap. You’re both crying, your daughter wailing while you’re sniffling, shoulders shaking while you still try to console the baby in your lap. You looked exhausted.

“Oh my love.” Jessie says rushing to your side. “Let me take her.”

“No!” You snap at Jessie. “She won’t eat, but she’s hungry, that’s her hungry cry. She won’t latch, I can’t help her, but she needs to eat so she needs me.”

Jessie kneels in front of you. Her hands reach out to take your daughter. Already feeling panicked from the hours of crying you’ve sat through and the feeling of failure as a parent, you push Jessie’s hands away. You had been dealing with postpartum anxiety, you knew it and Jessie knew it.

It had started with just not letting your daughter out of your sight. She came with you everywhere, the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, she was always just a few steps away, in every moment you had your eyes on her. Even as she slept you watched her though the baby monitor, hardly ever getting rest yourself. That lasted a for the first few months and then it only became worse.

Then you started having nightmares of terrible things happening to her. That’s when you started not letting her out of your grasp. You no longer brought her out to Jessie’s games. You didn’t let family or friends hold her, everything was a threat to her. You held her constantly, feeling as if any place besides your arms was dangerous to her little life.

This even meant Jessie’s arms. You knew deep down Jessie was safe, she was even more cautious than you were with her, but your anxiety refused to let up when it came to your wife. Any time the baby awoke in the middle of the night, you were up too. Despite Jessie’s insisting you stay in bed, being the first one out of bed to get your daughter, as she’d get up, you’d follow her. You watched Jessie like a hawk when she held your daughter, terrified something would happen. It was all crazy, Jessie was the best partner and parent you could’ve ever imagined but your postpartum brain remained in panic at all times.

“What if she just never eats? She’ll starve, it’ll be all my fault. I just want to help her.” You managed to choke out between cried. Jessie could see the dark circles under you eyes, she knew you hadn’t slept that night and now it was early morning, the exhaustion beginning to take its toll.

“She’s not going to starve babe.” Jessie tried her best to console you. She didn’t know what to do, she felt helpless so many times seeing you stress and worry about your daughter, knowing she could only ease your mind so much.

“She might Jessie! She won’t latch! I can’t fucking feed her. I’m a terrible mom, I can’t even feed her.” You move through anger, yelling at Jessie and your fist hitting the armrest of the rocking chair, to feelings of sadness in an instant, tears falling again.

“You’re not a terrible mom.”

“I can’t protect her. She’s always crying, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I can’t keep her safe.”

“You can keep her safe, you do keep her safe. She cries because she’s a baby, she can’t talk to us, her crying is not an indication of you as a parent.” Jessie’s hands gently caress your shins, trying to help you relax. “Now, can I please hold her?” Jessie brings her arms out again. She knew she had to be patient with you but she also knew you had hit your breaking point. Your lack of sleep, your mood swings, your frustrations, all worried her.

She knew you had been up all night with her. It had taken the two of you a while to get her to fall asleep, and just a short hour later she was up screaming again. You changed her and put her back down, before returning to bed. She had started crying at midnight and you had gone into the nursery, telling Jessie you’d wake her for the next time she cried. Except you hadn’t. You never came back to bed after that wake up. Jessie had heard the crying on her own and made her way into the nursery at 2am. You had sent her back to bed saying you had it covered. Jessie listened, knowing it was smarter and safer to have one rested parent, she also wasn’t interested in making you upset.

Then when Jessie woke up again and noticed you were not next to her, she came to find you. At 4am she found you asleep on the floor next to the crib. She had placed a blanket over you and let you sleep while she made herself coffee. The baby had woken up again at 4:30 and you had been up with her since. Jessie had run to the store to get some necessities, hoping when she got back the two of you would be sleeping again. You had now been awake all night, with only a combined hour of sleep worth of naps to hold you over. Jessie knew she had to take your daughter away from you, you needed sleep. She wanted you safe and she wanted your daughter safe.

You just stare back at Jessie. This was your wife, you trusted her with every bit of yourself, your fears, your accomplishments, you trusted her with your body, with your heart, but for some reason you were terrified to hand her your daughter, the baby she had a hand in making, the baby that was half her, you couldn’t hand her over.

“Babe.” Jessie’s tone was no longer asking politely. “For her safety and more importantly, for your safety, I need you to let me hold her for a bit, you need a break.” Her arms extend once again. She had realized this was getting out of hand, not only did she need to take your daughter in this moment, it was probably time to seek professional help. Jessie made a note to bring that up later with you.

“I don’t need a break, I don’t get a break, I'm her mom!”

“I’m her mom too!” Jessie getting more and more concerned about your own safety starts to snap at you.

Jessie was right, she was her mom too. You look down at your daughter, who is still whimpering. You look at her small face, her little nose, the way her eyes were scrunched and her mouth open crying. It had you tearing up again, seeing how upset she was with no relief thanks to you.

“I couldn’t help her, I changed her, she’s warm enough, she’s burped, I checked her over a hundred times, there's no scrapes or rashes, nothing should bother her. She just is hungry but won’t eat.” That’s when you start feeling your heartbeat in your chest, the whoosh of blood through your ears. You can feel your chest heaving as you try breathing in air.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jessie’s hands come off your shins and onto your face.

“You’re okay. She’s okay, look at her she’s okay. You’re both okay. I’m going to take her just for a moment, I’ll stay here by you so you can watch. But I’m just going to hold her for a bit.” Jessie drops her hands from your face and gently scoops up your daughter, bringing her to rest on her chest. Your daughter’s head rests on Jessie’s shoulder. Jessie stands up and bounces her lightly, hand running down your daughter’s back trying to soothe the crying.

Jessie extends her other hand out toward you. “Come here, let’s go lay in our bed.”

You look up at Jessie and nod, taking her hand before dropping it. “Two hands on her.” You say, already worrying somehow your daughter will slip from Jessie’s strong grip.

“Okay, two hands.” Jessie shoots you a smile before placing her other hand onto your daughter's back. She follows you out of the nursery across the house and into your bedroom. You watch Jessie as she carefully places her into the bassinet next to the bed.

“There’s nothing in there right? No toys, no blanket, no pillows? Did you check that there isn’t a spider or anything?” It was your paranoia coming back, but you had to ask.

“No babe, just her. There’s nothing that’s going to hurt her in there.” Jessie says looking between you and the bassinet. “She’ll be okay, I’m going to pick her up again in a moment. Let’s get you changed first.”

Jessie took another glance at the bassinet before coming over to where you stood at the end of the bed. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders. “Would you like a shower?” You shake your head, you did but you didn’t have the energy. “New clothes at least? Brush your teeth? Wash your face? What can I help with?”

“I dunno.” You feel on the verge of even more tears, you’d think by now you’d be completely dry. You feel your lip start to tremble again and you bite it trying to hold back the sob ready to fall out.

“Okay, sorry, I gave you too many options. Let’s just get you changed.” Jessie says her hand gently falling to your shirt. “Can I take this one off?” You nod and lift your arms, Jessie gently pulling the shirt over your head. You stand there shirtless as Jessie walks across the room to her own dresser, pulling out one of her old shirts that you frequently stole and would wear to bed. On your way back to where you stood your daughter lets out a cry. You watch as Jessie quickly moves to grab a clean pacifier, placing it into her mouth before coming back over to you.

“Arms up pretty girl.” You do as she asks and she pulls the shirt down over your head. Her hands drop to the shorts you have on. “These off?”

“Ehh she didn’t puke on them, they can stay.” You say. And Jessie’s hands move off of them.

“Okay, in bed.” Jessie walks over flipping back the cover to your side and waiting for you to get in. You climb in and she gently pulls up the covers before walking around to the other side of the bed. She picks up your daughter from the bassinet before she climbs into bed next to you. “Come here.” She pats her side and encourages you to curl into her.

You watch as she holds your daughter, you watch carefully, making sure your daughter's head is supported, her back is in a good position, you watch Jessie, who’s looking between you and your daughter.

“Close your eyes, I’ve got her, she’s okay, if she cries you’ll hear her and wake up.” You lay there for a moment, Jessie was right, she was right next to you, if she cried you’d hear. You’d be able to get up and help in a second's notice. You take one last look at Jessie and your daughter before closing your eyes.

You’re not sure how much time passes when you finally wake up to the sound of your wife talking to your daughter. “Here ya go. This’ll make you feel better.” You blink a few times and see Jessie with your daughter, a bottle in her hand being held up to her mouth.

Your eyebrows squint as you try to take in the image of your daughter eating from a bottle. That was different, it was rare that she ate from a bottle especially when you were home with her, you’d wake up and feed her, there was no need for her to feed from the bottle. It made you upset that Jessie hadn’t woken you, maybe she didn’t trust you to feed her since you had failed earlier. Maybe she thought you were a bad mother.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You feel Jessie jump, not having realized you were awake and being startled by your voice. “I don’t want her to have formula yet, we talked about it this.” You had been strong in your decision to feed her, Jessie knew that. Bottle feeding her was one thing, but you hadn’t pumped, there wasn’t milk for the bottle, Jessie had to be giving her formula. “You should’ve woken me up, I would’ve fed her.”

You move to sit up, starting to pull your shirt up and reaching for your daughter at the same time. Jessie’s hand gently releases the bottle for a moment before her hand comes down onto yours.

“You are feeding her. It’s not formula, it’s your milk from the freezer. You’re still feeding her.” Jessie says looking at you, her hand returning to hold the bottle to your daughter’s mouth.

“Oh.” You feel stupid, you had frozen milk. Frozen milk you had pumped and saved back when your daughter was first born. She didn’t yet eat enough to use it all, so you had saved it. As she grew she drank more and more and you stopped freezing it. You had completely forgotten. You had forgotten, Jessie hadn’t.

“Go back to sleep love, I’ve got her, well, actually you’ve got her, you’re the one feeding her, I’m just holding the bottle.” Jessie smiles down at you, bringing a hand to run her fingers through your hair. “Close your eyes.”

You feel a sudden rush of emotions again, feeling overwhelmed by the kindness of your wife, who you had been cold to since the anxiety started. “I’m sorry.” You can feel your chest tightening and your vision becomes blurry with tears.

“For what?” Jessie looks down questioning what you could possibly be apologizing for.

“Just everything, I’ve been so mean, and I just, I worry and I can’t let her go, if something happened to her, I don’t think I’d survive. I’m so scared for her, she’s helpless, and I’m her mom so that’s my job and I think sometimes I forget you’re her mom too, and I don’t want to burden you with the responsibility, and I just, I’m not being fair to you.”

“You’re also not being fair to yourself. You’re tired, you’re overwhelmed, I don’t like seeing you like this.

“I know I just can’t help it.” You blinked hard and the tears began to run down your cheeks, Jessie’s finger gently wiping them away.

“I know, it’s not your fault. We’ll talk about this later, just get some sleep honey.”

“Okay.” You sniffle, trying to slow down the crying. “I’m sorry, I love you, you’re a really good mom.”

“Shhhh.” Jessie lets her fingers run through your hair again, trying to soothe you back to sleep. She doesn’t need to hear you apologize for something that was beyond your control, she knew it was all hormones, your brain playing tricks on you. She knows she’s a good mom, she knows you’re a good mom, she doesn’t need your reassurance but it is nice to hear. “I love you. I’ll look after you and her. I’ve got you. Just close your eyes.”

You do, quickly falling asleep with the feeling of Jessie’s fingers in your hair and the sound of her whispering softly to your daughter about the first time you and she met, one of Jessie’s favorite stories to tell. The anxiety and stress wasn’t gone, but for once, with her by your side, it suddenly wasn’t all consuming.

[onepiecestarry]

Katsuki Bakugo Fluff Oneshot

I've had this bouncing around in my brain for a few days and just needed to get it down :) This is lowk based off of my life so I apologize since its a niche situation. But enjoy some Bk fluff and lmk if you want another part to this!

Katsuki x Reader

2.3k words

Most days you wake up, go to class, study, and train late into the night. You are a busy person, with many priorities, but this didn’t stop you from making many friends. You got particularly close to Mina and Sero, and along with that the rest of the bakusquad- besides Bakugo himself of course. You had tried many times to befriend him but to no avail. You decided to give up since you were already a part of his friend group. 

You tried your best to make time for your friends but most weeks you wouldn’t join the nightly hangouts. On any days off you went home to help your mom, only Mina truly knew why you were never in the dorms. 

-

“Alright class, today we are-” Aizawa started his long speech about your new upcoming project. You start to zone out, but quickly focus again to get the project details, jotting down any important notes you might need. 

“I am going to randomly assign partners for this, please do not ask to change because there will be no exceptions this time.” Mr. Aizawa says in his regular monotone voice. 

He starts to list off the groups and eventually says your name. “Y/n and Bakugo” 

“Not that fucking nerd!!” Bakugo yells slamming his fist onto his desk.

“Shut it Bakugo,” Mr. Aizawa says activating his quirk on the rowdy student. 

The rest of the day went by normally, you finished classes and began packing your stuff to study and train. 

Around 1 am you get a text.

Bakugo

“Where are you dipshit”

Y/n

“Training, why?”

Bakugo

“Tf you training so late for, gts”

Y/n

“Dude leave me alone, what do you want”

Bakugo

“Friday at 11 am common room”

Y/n

“The project?” 

He likes the message and the conversation ends. You look at the time and realize you should be going to bed soon, you do a few more reps before heading back to the dorm. 

It's a cool night, as you walk a chill runs up your spine from the cold. You shake it off and continue to your dorms. As quietly as you can, you open the door and make your way to your room. You fall asleep to the crickets and cicadas chirping outside your window. 

The week goes by quickly as the weekend approaches. You completely forgot about having Friday off, but Mina reminded you on Thursday to text your mom to remind her. 

What everyone in the class doesn’t know is that your mom moved with you when you came abroad to study at UA. She and your little sister rent a small house not too far from campus. Your step-father refused to move with them, so on any days you have off you go home to watch your 2-year-old sister while your mom works. The only person who knows about this arrangement is your best friend Mina. She covers for you whenever you are there. 

- 

You wake up to the loud beeping of your alarm, as you look at it to shut it off it displays “4:30 am”. You groan and move to get up. Your mom starts work at 6 on the days you have off so you have to get to the house early so your sister isn’t home alone. 

You grab your prepacked bag and school backpack and start your walk home. The sunrise is barely a sliver when you get there. 

As you take care of your sister throughout the day, coloring, watching movies, and playing dress-up, it doesn’t matter what you do as long as she’s happy. Once you put her down for her nap, you throw yourself onto the couch half asleep. Then your phone starts going off over and over. You grumble something about a group chat and open your phone to see it’s Bakugo. 

Bakugo

“Where are you dipshit”

“If you aren’t here in the next 3 minutes I’m blowing your ass up in your dorm”

“Why aren’t you in your dorm”

“ANSWER ME”

Bakugo has requested your location. 

“Oh boy” You mumble to yourself

Y/n

“Chill dude, I’m sorry I forgot we were supposed to work on the project today, can we do it Monday?”

Bakugo

“NO, dumbass it's fucking due Monday”

“Where are you, answer the fucking phone now”

Y/n

“I can’t answer the phone rn”

Bakugo

“Well then SEND ME UR FUCKING LOCATION”

Y/n

“Will u chill tf out if I do?”

Bakugo likes the message.

Y/n started sharing their location with Bakugo

You huff and turn your phone off falling asleep on the couch. Not long after you wake up to three aggressive knocks on your front door. Knowing Bakugo you jump up to stop him from knocking more and waking your sister. 

“Chill tf out, I’m right here,” You say as you open the door. Bakugo pushes past you walking into your house and turning to look at you. 

“You are so fucking useless, we were supposed to have this project done today! I fucking should’ve done it myself” He says with his fingers on the bridge of his nose. 

“Look, I’m sorry but Aizawa would know if you pulled that shit AGAIN” 

“YOU FUCKING RATTED-”

You slam your palm on his mouth as he begins to yell. Shock is written across his face when he suddenly pushes you off him. 

“What the fuck” He spits at you.

“You have to be fucking quiet dipshit” You whisper.

“Why wou-” He gets interrupted by your sister crying and running to you. 

You pick her up gently and start to soothe her from her startling wake call as you glare daggers at Bakugo. He stands there in complete shock, this time not hiding it at all. You nod your head in the direction of your dining table and say, “Go set up there, we can work on it now.”

He doesn’t say a word while he gets his stuff out and sets up. You put your sister down to start making some lunch for her. 

“Did you eat?” You ask not looking at him.

“What?” He asks snapping back to reality.

“Did you eat lunch?”

“Oh um no”

“Ok,” You say, silently making another serving more. 

As you continue to cook and Bakugo silently sits there trying to think of what to say, he blurts out. 

“So, who’s the father?”

You turn around from the stove and stare at him blankly for a second processing what he asked, then you see how serious his face is. You burst out laughing- “BAHAHAHA, WAIT,” you say wiping a tear forming in your eye from laughter. Bakugo glares at you to stop laughing. After you take a second to compose yourself you answer, “Bakugo, meet my sister, y/s/n.” You say as y/s/n goes up to Bakugo and hugs him. He has a horrified look on his face realizing what he just asked you. 

He tries to jump away and get her off unsuccessfully. He accepts his fate and allows her to hug his leg. 

The next few hours went by awkwardly, you served lunch and while your sister was busy eating you spent your time working on the project, allowing Bakugo to have a break and eat too. But as soon as your sister was done you were up and taking care of her again. 

Hours go by and you realize you have to figure out dinner. 

“Fuck” You whisper so your sister can’t hear. “What do you want for dinner Bakugo?” You ask from your sister’s makeshift playroom in the living room. 

“I don’t know, don’t care.”

You look at him exasperated as you sigh and ask your sister.

“PIZZA!!!” Your sister says excitedly. You pick her up and gently whisper how you can’t afford to order pizza right now, and how you can make her something at home. She begins to sulk and goes back to her toys. You get up walk to the table and look at Bakugo to ask again. 

“Wha-” You begin.

“I already ordered it.” He says not looking up from his notes.

“What?” You ask baffled.

“The pizza, I already ordered it.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that, seriously.” 

“It's fine. She said she wanted pizza.”

“Okay, how much was it so I can pay you back.” You ask getting your wallet out.

“No.” He says not sparing you a look.

“What?” You ask again. 

“I said no. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Oh, okay, well thank you.”

Once the pizza arrives you all sit down to eat, but once again you don’t eat so you can work on the project. As you sit at your laptop across from Bakugo eating his pizza, your laptop suddenly shuts. 

“Wha- What the fuck man?!” You half-yell at Bakugo. 

“You haven’t eaten all day, so eat the pizza and then I’ll watch your sister so you can work.” 

“But-”

“No. I said what I said.” He stares at you, silently telling you that you won’t win any argument with him. 

He kept true to his word, he took care of your sister while you worked efficiently on your project. Around 11:30 you come back to reality and close your laptop, realizing that you should have put your sister to bed long ago. You walk into the living room to see Bakugo and y/s/n on the couch watching her favorite movie, Totoro. Y/s/n being asleep on Bakugo you decide to sit on the other side of him and continue the movie. 

“Everything is done, we just need to make the slides and practice.” You whisper. 

“Alright cool, that should be easy.” He says continuing to watch the movie. 

You look over and admire how calm he is. His arm wrapped around your sister, her head in his lap fast asleep. You had to admit, he was great with kids. While you were working he was playing dress up with her, you managed to snap a few photos of him with a tiara on before he noticed. He was so sweet and gentle with her all day, the opposite of his regular personality. He didn't call her a brat even once, not even one time?!?

He notices you staring and looks over, “What?” He says annoyed. 

“Nothing,” You say silent for a few seconds, “Just- thank you for today.” 

He lets out a scoff, showing you he was listening.

“Is this where you disappear every night?” He asks.

“What? Oh. no, I actually do train every night since I’m here on the weekends. I usually get up at 4:30 and either stay here or go back at 2 am.” You answer. 

“You do this only on two and a half hours of sleep?” He asks with confusion and shock hinting in his voice. 

“Yeah, I don’t have much of a choice. No one else can watch her.” 

The conversation fades as you both focus back on the movie. Eventually leading to you falling asleep on him as well. 

Bakugo sits there on your couch, with your sister asleep in his lap and you asleep on his shoulder. He quietly watches the movie until your mom returns from work. She opens the door and hears the T.V. on, so she goes to the living room to check and she sees all of you there. Bakugo’s head swings at the noise and sees her. 

“Oh my, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. I didn’t know y/n had her boyfriend over!” She says quietly moving to sit on the adjacent couch. 

“Oh- um, I’m not-” He starts.

“Here let me move her to bed, they both sleep like rocks don’t worry.” She says with a wink, picking up your sister and taking her to her bed. She returns to see Bakugo hasn’t moved with you still asleep on him. 

“How long have you been here? I’m so sorry for any trouble they’ve caused.” Your mom laughs.

“I got here around noon. Me and y/n were supposed to work on a school project but she forgot so I came over to work on it.” He starts

“Oh! I’m so sorry about that dear.” 

“It's okay.”

“So how long have you two been together?” She asks excitedly. 

“We aren’t dating,” Bakugo says quietly still trying to not wake you up. 

“Really? Huh, I swear I’ve heard y/n talk about you before.” A light shade of pink finds its way to Bakugo’s cheeks.

“Well, thank you for helping take care of my girls, I really appreciate it. You should stay here tonight, it's too late for you to go back to school. Y/n’s room is there and there are blankets in the closet.” Your mom says getting up to go to bed. “And thank you again Katsuki Bakugo.” She finally says before disappearing into her room. 

Bakugo tightens up at the sound of his full name, knowing well that means y/n has talked about him enough for her mom to know who he is. 

He decides to stay on the couch, not wanting to disturb your peace. He pulls a blanket on the both of you and shuts his eyes. He thinks about all the times he couldn’t spot you at parties or hangouts. Or how you would vanish off the face of the earth on weekends. It all made sense now, you were working yourself to the bone to take care of your family. 

Bakugo always had a soft spot for you, which is why everyone would always make you ask him to hang out with them, even if you weren’t going to be there. He never knew why he was murder-y with you but it scared him so he pushed you away even more. Hence you trying to be friends with him but ‘failing’. 

But now he’s here, lying on your couch with you on top of him asleep, coming to the realization that maybe his soft spot for you isn’t all that bad. 

[kestrel7997]

Hurt

Injured reader x the proxies + Slenderman and my oc. (Reader's name, appearance, etc, is not specified. Though it is heavily implied that Reader is a proxy themself)

Ah, back at it again. This is fun, I might start accepting requests. Infact, if you want to, then feel free to request a fic for any of the proxies, Slenderman or my oc. Yes, you may ask for multiple people in one ask.

Writing these kinds of fics are fun to me. They're simple, quick and easy to write. Gives me something to focus on. But like I said before, feel free to request, it had to take me a bit of brain storming to come up with this idea at last.

(Mind you, I have little to no medical knowledge.)

Tim Wright/Masky

- Tim enters the room, only to see you pressing gauze to your still bleeding wound.

- ''What the fuck happened here?'' The man inquired, raising a brow as he stalked towards you.

- You explain that a glass broke, a shard managed to get your hand.

- Sighing, he grabs the gauze from your hand. Muttering about how it was too blood stained now and grabbing a fresh piece of the white fabric.

- He pressed it hard against your wound, ignoring your protest of how you'd rather do it yourself.

- His brows are furrowed, and he was frowning. Though you knew he was worried.

- Masky on the other hand...

- ''What the fuck did you do?!''

- frustrated, to say the least.

- He just got back from scolding Toby over something, you knew because you could hear yelling a mere two minutes ago.

- Grumbling in annoyance, but he stays to watch. Says it's because he wanted to make sure you did it right, but you knew it was because he did care.

Brian Thomas/Hoody

- it took me a bit before I could come up with something that I was satisfied with.

- ''Woah, you okay there bud?'' He immediately rushed over to you.

- You explain how you accidentally cut yourself whilst cooking.

- He sits down on a chair infront of you, elbow propped on his knee and his chin resting on his hand.

- Brian doesn't make a big deal out of it, offers to go play video games or something once you're done putting antiseptic and gauze on the cut.

- Hoody stares at you for a few seconds, before signing: ''Should I go get EJ?''

- You decline, saying you got it. He doesn't offer again and goes back to whatever he was doing.

Toby Erin Rogers/Ticci Toby

- all but scrambles over to you when he sees the cut on your knee.

- ''What happened here? Are you okay? Why are you hurt?'' The flood of questions stumbles from his mouth before he could rein himself in.

- You explain how you tripped over something whilst trying to grab your phone and your knee ended up hitting the corner edge of the table.

- Poor guy might as well be acting as if your leg got amputated whilst you put a bandaid on your cut, ignoring his dramatic rambling.

- The man springs back up a few seconds later, as usual. Offering to eat ice cream with you whilst watching the movie Twilight (and of course making fun of the movie).

Kate Hayes/Kate the chaser

- she's alarmed, to say the least, when she sees the three, uneven scratches on your left forearm.

- ''...you okay?'' Kate asked, unsure of what to say but worried.

- You shake your head, holding back a wince when putting the antiseptic on the cuts, it stung, a lot.

- You explain that you had a small run in with The Rake, luckily for you, only the tip of it's claws managed to get you before you escaped.

- Kate is even more alarmed at that.

- ''You had a run in with The Rake? And survived? W-why are you so nonchalant about this? You could've died.'' She walked up to you, her boots almost stomping on the floor when she does so.

- By the time you're done putting the antiseptic to your wound, Kate The Chaser takes over Kate for a moment.

- The woman looks down at you with narrowed eyes, you can practically feel the words that were boiling inside of her. Though she refused to speak to you.

- She sat down next to you, staying with you until you were done taking care of your wound.

Lily Penelope/Lily the hunter

- ''Hey, Slender wanted me to tell yo- oh what the fuck?'' Lily exclaims in an exasperated voice when she sees the cut on your shoulder.

- Im running out of ideas for how the Reader could get a wound.

- You explain how a victim managed to cut you.

- cue Lily laughing at you.

- She refuses to let you forget about it for a week at least.

Slenderman

- You could sense the air of dissapointment wafting around the tall being as he ''stares'' at you.

- A strangled, strained noise that almost sounded like a wheeze came from him. His version of a sigh.

- You didn't need to explain, he had already read your mind. ''Be more careful next time.''

- he snaps his fingers, and slowly the cut begins to heal in the matter of a minute.

- You stared at the rapidly healing wound. When it was finished, you look up, the entity that is basically your boss was no longer there.

[woodenplank-gt]

Revelations

Progress is being made!!!

First: A Not So Average Night

Previous: Witness To A Crime

Next: New Life Experiences

————-

Neither Shawn or Gus could describe how exciting it was to finally hear that tiny voice. It was like finding a room full of chocolate just for them to enjoy. Their hard work over the past hour getting the little guy to trust them has finally paid off. The three might even become friends after this.

"I'll tell you what'cha wanna know as long as you don't hurt my people." The tiny voice wavered as he spoke barely above a whisper. He had an interesting accent, although neither human could place it.

Shawn was shaking with excitement at the mention of even more tiny people running around. There must be a whole secret society! On the other hand, Gus was not as thrilled when he realized there could have been little eyes watching his every movement for who knows how long. Although a smile still played at his lips by the simple fact the little guy was getting more comfortable with them.

However, their smiles slowly faded as the words finally registered in their brains. How scared the little guy sounded. It was one of the last things the two men expected after all the progress they had made. What did they do to get that sort of response? Why is he still scared?

Shawn chuckled nervously, "What are you talking about?"

Gus' expression-filled eyes were full of concern, "Yeah, why do you think we'll hurt your people?"

Tucker dropped the chip on the desk, all but forgotten as he stared at his giant tormentors. His gaze hardened behind his tears. "You've been trying to manipulate me into telling you everything this entire time!" He snapped, the overwhelming mix of fear, anger, frustration, and sadness boiling over the edge.

He took a step forward, "And the psychic has been reading my mind 'cause I refuse to comply!" Tucker pointed an accusatory finger at Shawn, who stared at the minuscule finger with wide eyes.

The human's mouth gaped open for a moment, speechless. Shawn was prepared for a lot of things in life thanks to his overbearing dad, but getting yelled at by a man smaller than a finger was not one of them. He glanced toward his friend for any sort of advice, but Gus only gave him an equally shocked expression in return.

Shawn held up his hands, "Uh-listen, I swear I don't read minds. I'm not one of those types of psychics."

Tucker crossed his arms and quirked a brow. "Really? Then how'd ya know where I was hiding and when I was hungry and that I'm from the walls?" He challenged. His fear of being punished by humans was long gone.

"The spir-" Shawn began before getting hit in the shoulder. "Ow!" He glared at Gus as he rubbed his shoulder, "What was that for?"

"You are not giving him the whole 'psychic revelation'." Gus stated with no room to argue.

Of course, Shawn still tried to argue. "But I am a psychic. The spirits tell me everything from the beyond." He gave Gus a look, begging him to go along with him.

His friend ignored him and turned back to Tucker who tensed up again. "He's not psychic. Shawn's a fraud." Gus said blatantly.

"Gus!"

"There's no point in lying to a four-inch tall man, Shawn!" Gus crossed his arms, "Who's he gonna tell? The Chief? Lassiter? Juliet? It's just scaring him even more!"

Tucker shifted uneasily as he watched Shawn facepalm with a frustrated sigh. When the humans said nothing else, he chose to pipe up. "What do you mean?" He asked Gus.

"He pretends he's a psychic that talks to spirits to solve murders. He's just good at noticing the little things and remembering them." He answered knowingly with a shrug. Gus glanced over at Shawn leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, attempting to block out his friend exposing his well-crafted lie.

Admittedly, Tucker still didn't understand. How in the world could Shawn figure out all that information if he didn't read minds? That's impossible. But there's no reason for Gus to lie about something like this.

He licked his dry lips, "Then how did he know all that stuff? Was it just luck?" Tucker tentatively asked.

As much as Gus wanted to answer, he had no idea how Shawn did it. Even after doing this whole Psych agency thing for months, and being friends with Shawn since they were babies, his friend's uncanny skill set still surprised him sometimes.

When Shawn didn't say a word, he lightly nudged him in the side. "Shawn. He asked a question." He said quietly.

Shawn solemnly nodded. "Back at the house, I noticed grease stains from the chips on the table that looked a lot like footprints. There were multiple trails leading to the bag and I figured something was in there. I was expecting a mouse though, not you." He explained simply.

He sighed and looked to the side as he continued, "there's specks of sawdust on your clothes, only way you can get that is from inside the walls. It makes sense as a safe place for you to live. And I guessed you were hungry 'cause you were hiding in a bag of food earlier." Shawn looked up at Tucker, appearing dejected, "Happy now?"

Tucker nervously glanced down at his boots, "Y-yeah. Sorry." He murmured sheepishly. He fidgeted with his sleeve as he started to shuffle away from the humans again. All of his foolish confidence was gone, replaced by a sinking feeling in his gut that he just made things far worse for himself.

Tucker wanted to slap himself across the face and scream. How could he interpret a situation so damn badly! Mind reading? Seriously?

"Hey, don't feel too bad." Tucker glanced at the human as Shawn spoke, startled how the human seemed to read his mind again. "Everybody falls for it, I'm just too good." A confident smirk played at his lips, and he gave the small man a knowing look.

"But now that all my secrets are out, I think you owe us your name." Shawn stated lightheartedly, quirking a brow.

Tucker blinked at that. It made sense, but he still didn't want to say his name. It felt wrong telling a human that information. But he's already been caught by them, spoke to them, and told them more of his kind existed. Yeah.... He's long past following the borrower code now.

Taking a steadying breath, he met the four giant eyes of the humans. "My name’s Tucker." He cringed as his voice cracked slightly. After living on his own for three years, he wasn't used to using his voice anymore. That and the added pressure of talking to two freaking humans.

"Tucker," Shawn repeated, seemingly testing the name out, "Sounds badass."

Gus nodded beside him, "Like a gangster." He added with a smirk. "Nice to finally meet you Tucker."

The borrower only managed to nod along. He was not expecting this turn of events whatsoever. Tucker honestly thought he would be dead or left in a cage by now. He awkwardly glanced back at the chip he abandoned and decided to finally satisfy his hunger.

He sat down with the chip on his lap and continued taking bites out of the salty food. Meanwhile, Shawn and Gus shuffled closer to the desk on their knees.

"Soooo Tucker," Shawn began nonchalantly, "What exactly are you?" He couldn't hide his eagerness as the question left his mouth. His wallet depended on this answer thanks to his earlier bet with Gus, although Gus would have to pay for lunch either way since Shawn had no money. Still, he wanted to be right. He crossed his fingers under the desk, please be a leprechaun, he thought to himself.

A shiver went down his spine, but Tucker did his best to hide it. He purposely took a long time chewing his food before responding. "Don't ya wanna know about the murder?" He asked, changing the subject. Even though these humans were better than he thought, he still didn't trust them enough to reveal his people's name.

Shawn's face dropped, "Oh... right. The case."

"I forgot about that." Gus admitted quietly. He was as eager as Shawn to figure out who won the bet. "You're not a leprechaun though, right?" He couldn't help but ask.

Tucker shook his head. He didn't even know what a leprechaun is.

"Ha! I told you!" Gus pumped his fist in celebration.

Shawn scoffed, "You haven't won. We don't know if he's a wingless fairy or whatever ridiculous thing you can up with."

At that, both humans looked expectantly at Tucker again. His shoulders bunched up as his eyes danced between the two. Slowly, he shook his head side to side.

Gus shrugged, pretending not to care. "It doesn't matter, you would have made me pay for lunch either way." He pointed out.

"I actually would have paid this time." Shawn corrected him.

"Sure you would."

A loud phone chime stopped Shawn from retorting. He dug through his back pocket before taking out his phone and checking the screen. His brows rose, "It's Jules."

With one last glance towards the borrower on the desk, he tapped the green button. "City morgue, you stab'em we slab'em." He quipped.

"Not now Shawn." She said curtly. "Carlton mentioned you were at the Blum residence this morning, right?”

“Looks like Lassie has his facts straight for once.” Shawn said sounding proud. He heard a loud sigh on the other end.

“I don’t know about that.” Juliet’s voice was now quiet and unsure, very different from her usual confidence.

“What do you mean?”

There was a beat of hesitation before she continued. “Carlton seems so sure it’s the husband and is trying to get answers from him as we speak. I just- I really don’t think it’s Steven.” Juliet admitted.

Shawn exchanged a quick glance with Gus who was leaning in to listen to the call. Tucker was also paying attention, but he seemed more interested in the phone itself rather than the conversation. It took everything in Shawn not to coo at the little guy. He was just so cute with his tiny eyes peeking curiously up at him like a tiny little kitten and- Shawn took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the phone.

“Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?” He teased with a growing smile.

“I just want to know what you think.”

“Well pat yourself on the back Jules ‘cause im getting signals from the beyond it’s not Steven.”

“Who is it?” She eagerly pressed. Shawn figured she was already prepped to run out the precinct and arrest the real killer in record time. He loved watching her take the bad guys down. She somehow always looked so beautiful doing it. Unfortunately, he would have to see her arrest later.

“The spirits haven’t told me yet. They’re a lot shyer today.” He said sadly. “I’ll tell you right when I find out.” Shawn promised.

“Thanks Shawn.” Juliet said quickly before hanging up the phone.

Tucker felt a sense of unease as he listened to Shawn lie about talking to spirits. The human admitted he was a fraud, yet he didn’t show any signs of a liar like every other human. Not even a quiver in his voice or his eyes twitching left. Maybe it was because he was speaking to a box instead of a person. Either way, Tucker figured it was best not to anger the human if Shawn was capable of hiding his lies.

When the human pocketed the little box again, Tucker adverted his gaze back to the chip in his lap.

"What did the killer look like?" Shawn asked. Even though there were still so many questions whirling around his head about Tucker, he knew he had a job to do. A poor innocent man was being interrogated by Lassie and Shawn wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. Well a few people did come to mind, but that was beside the point.

Tucker placed the rest of his chip to the side and brushed the salt and grease from his hands. He was about to answer, until he realized he was at the advantage for once. "I'd love to help, but my stuff is still over there." He pointed to the far end of the desk where his supplies lay.

Both humans glanced at his things, then at each other, then back at Tucker. Gus' eyes narrowed, "You're not gonna leave once you get your things back, right?"

Tucker adamantly shook his head. 

They couldn't exactly keep the items from him since they did belong to Tucker. So, Shawn reached over and scooped the tiny objects into his palm. "Promise not to stab me again?" He asked warily before handing the items, most notably the nail, over.

Tucker stood and took a few steps back as the giant hand neared. He smirked up at Shawn, "As long as ya don't manhandle me again." There was still a hint of nervousness in his voice as the hand stopped right in front of him.

"Touché," Shawn replied as he slowly tilted his hand so the tiny objects could slide off.

The borrower immediately began inspecting his possessions. The fish line on his hook was tangled but that was an easy fix. Tucker grimaced as he noticed his silver nail still had some blood on the tip that has long since dried. He'll have to figure out how to make it shine again later. He dragged his leather satchel over to himself and undid the clip. The contents inside were strewn about but undamaged.

"I couldn't really see the killer's face inside the bag," Tucker began as he started to reorganize his satchel, "But his voice was too deep to be the resident male's- uh Steven's." He corrected.

Shadows covered him as the humans leaned in closer to hear his small voice. Tucker kept his eyes down as he distractedly untangled his climbing rope. "Kirstin was really surprised and scared. But I think she recognized him."

"Really? How so?" Gus asked.

"She called him 'J.'" He started to reveal. Suddenly, his hands stopped untangling the string. Flashes of the woman's giant, bloody face appeared in his mind. Her pained features and the desperation in her watery eyes as crimson blood pooled around her head. The way she stared at Tucker when she realized her final moments were approaching.

A lump formed in his throat. Tucker knew all too well what that fear and helplessness felt like. How suffocating it is. Like your drowning and the only way to go is deeper into the dark depths as weights dragged you down. And only the actions of others will decide your fate. Tucker got lucky, but the same couldn't be said for Kirstin.

"Earth to Tucker." A voice rumbled above.

He snapped out of his haunting memory of the murder only hours before. Tucker glanced up just in time to see a pale hand approaching him with a borrower-sized finger outstretched. Surprised, he fell onto his rear and scrambled back. "Stop, stop!" He frantically demanded, holding out his weapon.

The hand flinched away and quickly disappeared back under the desk. "Relax, I'm not some giant monster. I was just gonna poke you." Shawn said.

With a huff, Tucker rose back onto his trembling legs and glared at the human. "Ya touch me, ya get stabbed. Got it?" He stated, holding up the still bloody nail.

"No touching, I get it." Shawn swore. "Were you having a vision? Are you a mini psychic!" His face lit up at the mere thought of having a tiny spirit whisperer as a sidekick.

Gus rolled his eyes beside him.

Tucker slung his satchel over his shoulder and put his nail through the small hoop on the bag. Slightly embarrassed, he began coiling up his climbing rope. "No, sorry. I just-," he chuckled dryly, "Guess that human's death got to me more than I thought."

He glanced down at the desk under him as he thought it over. Death has never bothered him before today. It wasn’t uncommon to hear a borrower dying from illness or a rat or getting crushed. Out of eleven kids, Tucker and two other siblings were the only ones who lived to be adults.

Sure it was sad, but they would simply hold a funeral and move on. So why was this death, a human’s death, bothering him so much?

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Tucker." Gus reassured him, unknowingly knocking him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, Gus still gets queasy around bodies and we've been working on murder cases for months."

"That's a normal reaction, Shawn. Not everyone is a psychopath like you."

Shawn laughed, completely unbothered. "I see what you did there! Psych-opath." He lightly patted his friend's shoulder.

Annoyed, Gus quickly shrugged him off. With one last glare directed at Shawn, he turned his attention back to Tucker. "Ignore him. You said Kirstin called the killer 'J,' correct?" 

Tucker frowned as he remembered the victim's last word, meant just for him to hear in her final moments. "Yeah, then she said 'Josh' right before she died." His eyes danced between the humans. "Ya think that's the killer's name?"

Both men smiled. "Definitely sounds that way." Gus confirmed.

Tucker perked up at that. "I did what'cha asked. This mean I can go home now?"

"Of course!" Shawn assured him with an easy smile. "Hop on the Shawn Express and let's get rolling." He lowered his hand until it rested palm up in front of the borrower.

Tucker back up even further, not taking his eyes off the hand. His heartbeat quickened as the phantom feeling of those same fingers curling around him came back. It took everything in him not to pull out his weapon.

When it was clear Tucker was not hopping on his hand, Shawn curled his fingers to motion for the little guy to come closer. “The Blum house isn’t walking distance from here, especially for someone as vertically challenged as you.” He pointed out.

Tucker scowled up at him, “I-I know!” He stubbornly responded. He cautiously took a few steps closer before freezing up again. He just couldn’t do it. Willingly putting himself in a human’s hand went against every single survival instinct.

Gus frowned at his nervousness. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but Shawn can be careful when he needs to. You can trust him.” He promised.

He glanced up at Gus who gave him a reassuring nod, clearly telling the truth. Tucker took a few more moments to steel his nerves before closing the distance between him and the giant hand. He immediately climbed on the leathery skin before he could second guess himself, settling in the center of the palm. Tucker closed his eyes and tried to ignore the heat rising from the skin and the thumping of a pulse.

“Here we go,” Shawn warned quietly. He slowly rose his hand up to his chest and immediately placed his other hand underneath to add more protection for Tucker. “It’s just like when I carried that little spider when we were kids.” Shawn said with a smile, trying to hide how nervous he was carrying an entire human being.

Gus’ eyes were locked onto Tucker, ready to catch him again if something went wrong. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Never in a million years did he think he would watch his best friend hold a tiny little person in the palm of his hand.

His eyes never strayed from the small man, even at Shawn’s comment that brought back terrifying memories. “You mean that big spider you chased me around the house with for ten minutes straight?” His tone was full of annoyance.

“It was harmless.” Shawn responded as he began carefully walking towards the door. Tucker’s eyes were still shut tight, and Shawn thought he could even feel the minuscule fingers digging into his skin.

Gus sped past Shawn and to the door that led to the outside. “I’m pretty sure that was a brown recluse. You coulda killed me.” He cracked the door open and scanned the outdoors for anyone that could spot Tucker. Thankfully, no one seemed to be up in the very early hours of the morning and he quickly beelined to his blue car.

Shawn was close behind. His hands were protectively cupped to his chest as he too scanned his surroundings for people. “That definitely wasn’t a brown recluse, you’re making things up.” He defended himself.

Gus opened the passenger side door for him and he climbed inside. Gus quickly sat in the drivers seat and turned the key in the ignition.

Tucker flinched at the sound of the engine rumbling to life. He squirmed in the stuffy confines of the hands cupped over him, pushing against the fabric of the chest in front of him. After what felt like forever, the hands shifted around him and he found himself on his back looking up at two green eyes.

He quickly sat up and fixed his black poncho. “Are ya gonna put me down?” He asked nervously, glancing around the inside of the car.

Gus was the one who answered, “Absolutely not.” He turned in his seat and began backing out of the parking spot, making Tucker brace himself at the sudden movement. “There’s no safe places for you to sit in here and the last thing I want on my conscience is you getting hurt while I’m driving.” He stated without any room to argue.

Tucker nearly forgot how to breathe. How was he supposed to sit with a damn human the whole time!

Psychic or not, Shawn seemed to read his mind. “Relax, we’ll be back at your place before you know it.” He said with an easy smile.

Tucker forced himself to nod in response, hating every second of this morning. He couldn’t wait to get back in the walls and away from the humans.

[darl-ingfics]

All of your little prompt fics so far have been so sweet and such a joy to read. I eventually want to comment on them when I have the time. I especially loved the Yoongi fic. I’m always so excited when I see that you’ve posted something.

If it’s not too late to send in a prompt, would you be able to do 2 and 13 with our big soft boy San? I’m happy with any caretakers. If you aren’t taking anymore prompts I totally understand. ❤️

-Tilly

HI @tilly-poppies!!! I so loved writing this for you, and I hope you enjoy! It's definitely on the sillier side.

2 "You never sneeze this much. Are you sure you're feeling okay?" and 13 "I don't like the sound of that cough."

“I don’t like the sound of that cough,” Seonghwa whispered into Hongjoong’s ear as both members eyes locked on San, who was currently the only one on stage, testing the lighting and mics for his solo moment. It was blatantly obvious that San wasn’t feeling well. Even with all of the stage makeup, his face still had that pale, haggard look about it, with the heavy lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. The hands that held the microphone stand were shaking and he was still fully bundled up in his jacket and sweats, despite the harsh stage lights that had led the rest of the group to strip as much clothes of as was socially acceptable. And, most obviously, San’s voice was so much deeper than normal, and he couldn’t go five minutes without coughing. 

“I know. But I don’t know what else to do,” Hongjoong replied, sighing out his frustration. “I asked management. They said ‘unless he has a fever, he’s going on.’ Not to mention the fact that San himself is refusing to sit out…”

“Maybe we enforce group nap time after sound check? At least get him to rest a bit,” Seonghwa suggested. 

“Could work. I like the group element. Feels less targeted.”

“Make him think it’s his idea.”

Hongjoong smirked up at his best friend. “I love the way your brain works.” Seonghwa grinned back, pinching playfully at Hongjoong’s butt before their attention was drawn back to the stage, where Yunho and Wooyoung had joined San. It was initially Wooyoung yelling into his own mic that snagged the eldest members’ attention, but it was quickly diverted back to San when the performer snapped away from the others.

“Bless youuu, Sannie~” Wooyoung chirped as Yunho laughed, smacking San’s back as the younger man held up a hand, clearly laughing. Hongjoong and Seonghwa shared a tight lipped, unamused look. One that only deepened when they heard (actually heard this time) another sneeze from the stage. Followed by another… and another. 

“Woah, there.” Yunho stumbled forward, catching San around the waist to keep him from pitching forward into the floor. The dancer still had a smile on his face, but even from their place in the wings, Hongjoong and Seonghwa could see the worried hyung alarms going off in Yunho’s eyes. “You never sneeze this much. Are you sure you're feeling okay?” Yunho had had a prior schedule that morning, and had missed the rest of the groups’ telepathic discussion of their Sannie’s condition. The two eldest decided now was the right time to join the others on stage. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” San sniffled, rubbing his sleeve under his nose. “Just a little sick.”

“You should go rest,” Wooyoung said before Seonghwa could even open his mouth to suggest the same. The younger man’s voice was nagging as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Forget sound check. We’ll clear your mic for you. Go charge up so we can get down properly tonight.” 

“‘Get down?’” Yunho questioned around a barely contained laugh. “That’s what you’re calling what goes on on this stage?”

Wooyoung shrugged. “What do you want me to say? You can fully participate in our shenanigans? We can get down and dirty? We can get our sexy on?!”

“Yeah, I’m not getting my sexy on with anyone tonight,” San replied with disappointment, sniffling again. “Unless you wanna risk catching a cold.”

Wooyoung shrugged. “If there isn’t a little risk, where’s the fun?” He made a show of licking his lips, winking in San’s direction. 

“Alright, that’s a time out.” Hongjoong pointed at the steps towards the back of the stage. Wooyoung began to protest, but the captain continually overpowered him, sending the younger man to the steps to ‘think about his actions’ for two minutes.