#HELP I HAVE FALLEN AND I CANNOT GET UP ANYMORE

[the-fyre-flie]

A Dad!Batman and Shazam au oneshot for this one commenter in particular and also me because I love this concept, hehe! Also I physically cannot keed writing this on tumblr so like if this does well I'll move it to AO3 and write some more Batfam&Shazam...

@spiritdancer9000

This is INCREDIBLY long btw...

-

Bruce didn't know when it started. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment in time he started treating Shazam differently than the other heros, but at one point or another, he began treating the young man like... one of his own kids. Billy was just a kid himself, but it wasn't like he was inexperienced or powerless. The boy didn't need Bruce's parenting. Yet, the big bad Batman had a soft spot for him.

Bruce adjusted his cowl slightly as he stood from the rubble, grunting in pain as he pushed a large chunk of fallen building out of the way. This fight against a hypnotized Superman was going very poorly. His kryptonite had been sent into the bay, and he was still waiting on one of his various robins or ex robins to answer his distress call and show up with backup. Until that happened, he had to call in Shazam to help contain the alien. Their similar powers meant that while the rest of the Justice League was busy with off planet matters, Billy was the best option to take down Clark. Or at least keep him from causing more destruction. With how many times Clark gets hypnotized or brainwashed, this situation wasn't new or important enough to call back anyone from their missions. They just had to make do and figure out how to break the hypnosis.

"Shazam, can you redirect Superman to the west side of the city? Nightwing will be coming from that direction." For a man heavily bruised, stressed, and in the middle of grappling up to get as close as he could to the dueling supers, Bruce's voice was surprisingly gentle when he spoke to Billy. He almost never raised his voice at the magic infused boy, even in the middle of fights. Tho, once again, Bruce felt like he had to parent Billy. The kid was taking a beating, and he needed a level-headed adult to trust and rely on. Bruce had to be that figure, lest Billy panic, and begin letting Clark cause more damage than necessary.

"I can! I just gotta-!" Billy let out an 'oof' as he was interrupted by Superman landing a sharp hit on his jaw, sending him flying back. The sound was brutal, a loud crack followed by an even louder thud as concrete crumbled around Shazam, the hero leaving a Shazam-shaped crater in the exterior of a building. He groaned as he regained his bearings, floating to Batmans side as Superman prepared a second attack. "Okay, maybe I need a little help..."

Bruce would have chastised the boy for getting distracted for letting Superman get in a blow. That answering was less important than just doing in a moment like that. Instead, he just... let it go. Which is so very unlike him. With any other hero, including his own brood of bats and birds, he would have chewed them out for not reacting properly. With Billy, he didn't even blink, instead focusing on what to do next.

"Grab his cape and get him as close to the outskirts of the west side as possible. I'll keep him distracted."

Shazam flew into action, not one to question Batmans plans. Grabbing onto the cap, Superman immediately shifted to try and grab at the young hero. Only for Batman to begin... threatening Superman? Billy wasn't exactly sure why Batman decided that was the best way to keep the Kyrptonian distracted, but it was working somehow. The more Batman spoke about Lois and Jonathan and all the horrible ways he could take out Clark's family, the more scared rather than aggressive Clark became. For a man of steel, Superman bent easily. Within half a minute, they were touching down in the city limits, Superman not even fighting back anymore, seemingly spiraling, head in hands.

"Why did you say all that stuff to him, mister Batman?" Shazam asked, letting go of the man's cape and joining Bruce's side. As they spoke, Nightwing pulled up, his bike screeching as he came to a sudden stop. He was waving a small thermos looking thing back and forth before tossing it to Batman, disappearing again before he could even be questioned.

"Superman, at his core, is a gentle giant and family man. Threatening or insulting his family makes him depressed. As any father would become if someone like me threatened his son the way I did. I'll apologize to him when he's back in his right mind." Bruce stated gruffly as he unsealed the thermos and waved it under Clark's nose like smelling salts. Usually, he would have been far less gentle with Clark. The alien man could take it. But he couldn't bring himself to he overly violent in front of Shazam.

As the kryptonite was held in front of Clark, he finally snapped out of hypnosis, groggily looking up at Bruce. He squinted a bit, groaned, and stood. Of course, he apologized and offered to help with whatever damage he caused, but Bruce simply dismissed him, telling him to go rest and recover properly.

Sat in a local diner, Bruce watched as Billy stuffed his face with food. They both changed out of their hero persona's, and Billy had been ready to go do whatever orphaned kids do in this day and age, but Bruce had insisted on treating him to food. Bruce watched as the boy rambled and ate, talking about some show he had seen recently. Every time Billy opened his mouth, Bruce was reminded of just how young he was. Just how innocent and alone in the world he was. Bruce nodded and sipped his coffee, Billy almost flinging his waffles as he spoke, the enthusiasm almost contagious. Almost.

"Do you need a place to stay?

Bruce had blurted it out before he even had time to think about the implications. He, Bruce Wayne, THE Batman, had blurted something out. In front of him, Billy was staring, wide-eyed, fork of waffles held up mid bite. It was a long moment of silence before Billy spoke.

"...yes?"

The Wayne manor was quiet. A vast empty building, the echos of their footsteps loud as they made their way through the halls. Billy had to jog to keep up with Bruce's long strides, his sneakers squeaking against the perfectly polished wood floors. As Bruce turned a corner, Billy skidded after him, nearly bumping into a large, scarred man.

"B, why is there a new kid? I thought we all agreed you reached your adoption limit." His voice was almost as gruffs as Bruce's, the scars along his jaw and brow shifting when he spoke. Bruce sighed and placed a hand on Billy's shoulder.

"Jason, this is Billy. He's a... coworker. Billy needs a place to stay. I'm not adopting him." Bruce replied, the man named Jason crouching to match Billy's eye height. He offered a hand, Billy carefully accepting it. They shook before Jason stood, smiling as he walked off.

"You'll probably eat your words by the end of the day. Welcome to the family, Billy."

"What does he mean?" Billy questioned as he continued following after Bruce, brow furrowed as he struggled to match Bruce's pace. Gosh... how did a man so big move so fast?

"Jaylad is just joking around. Don't worry about it." Bruce shook his head as he led Billy down a hall, the sounds of a few boys yelling and video game sound effects getting louder. When they came to a door, Bruce pushed it open, revealing a large game room/theater. A huge TV, a pool table, shelves full of books and board games, and a trio of boys sat on the couch in front of the screen, two of them holding controllers while the third did his best to get in the way.

"Move, Grayson! I need to win and show Thomas that he can never defeat me!" The smallest boy shouted, trying to push the young man out of the way.

"Keep distracting him, Dick! I'm almost there!" The other boy grinned madly as he leaned around Dicks side to get a better view of the screen, his character seemingly ahead of the others in whatever racing game they were playing. After a few more moments of shouting, the race ended, and the boys became a loud tangle of limbs and arguments. Accusations of cheating were thrown around, followed by claims of it being fair game, only to suddenly stop when they noticed Bruce and Billy.

"This is Damian, Dick, and Duke. my youngest, oldest, and most recent." Bruce spoke, and Billy offered a small wave. Why did Bruce have so many kids? HOW did Bruce have so many kids? Why is Damian the only one who looks like him? Is this what Jason meant by Bruce adopting him?

"Another one? Duke hasn't even had time to bask in his newness. He's still got New Adoptee Smell." Dick laughed a bit as he returned Billy's wave, Duke rolling his eyes from beside him.

"Billy isn't being adopted. He just needs a place to stay, and the manor has rooms." Bruce once again corrected. But as Bruce talked with Dick and Duke, Billy couldn't help by shiver at the feeling of someone glaring at him. Damian hasn't taken his eyes off Billy, his stare cold and hard and very judgmental. Yup... that one was %100 Bruce's kids.

"Billy? Let's go." Bruce's voice pulled the boys from the staring contest, Billy quickly following after the man as he left to show him more rooms. When they came to a new door, Bruce gestured for Billy to enter. Inside was a large room, a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, pretty much what you'd expect from a rich family with extra rooms.

"You can stay here as long as you'd like. We have plenty of space, food, etc. With your powers, you can be from here to Faucet in under 2 minutes, so any travel should be fine." Bruce was trying very hard to see like he didn't care too much, that this was all kindness done for a coworker, and not because he desperately felt responsible for the child stood in front of him. Billy was so young, about the same age as Damian, and the kid had nothing. Of course, Bruce had to step up.

"Thanks, Mr Wayne. I... are you certain?"

"Just Bruce is fine. And yes."

[ofcoffee-andletters]

FFXIV Write day 20: Duel

Notes: This...is complicated. This belongs to the Lore and eventual writing of my own version of Meteor (default WoL). But the very few things you may need to know are that, Meteor did everything as the game intended up to ShB and then he said fuck you I want Ardbert. He was mute, due to lore reasons - and he loves Ardbert a lot and very much so, thanks.

ArdbertMeteor NSFW implied

Duel : a combat between two persons : a conflict between antagonistic persons, ideas, or forces

——————————

What is destiny? A succession of events that are meant to happen, some would say. What is fate? Well, fate and destiny are one and the same, right? People will clamor that your fate is your destiny and that whatever awaits you at the end of the road is simply what the Gods, the Star or whatever external and wise force was willed for you. What if — then…destiny was meant to be made? By your own hands?

———————

The first time their eyes met they stood on opposite ends of a battlefield — there was no recognition upon either face, and yet there was something primal growling inside of them.

One side calls the other a fool, for following the exact same steps that ended his world — that made him ruin everything, but all that mirror reflection heard was pain and the sound of someone who needed, with desperation, understanding and forgiveness.

A voice already was telling him about the futility of this…

You’re not meant to be.

Even if you both touch, it will be an ephemeral touch.

And he feigned ignorance at those wise whispers.

——————————

Fingers interlock, and despite the raw hatred, the disgust on every action — the intense pain he can feel with every movement and bite, he has no voice to even complain. A blessing and a curse. A silent lover for someone who doesn’t want love, only redemption — to let go and to cling to everything and nothing for a moment in his life.

“You’re so stupid…”

He knows.

“Why are you doing this to yourself…?”

He has no idea. He had walked towards the wolf’s mouth willingly and instead of fighting, he offered all of himself.

A grunt, and growl. His arms are pinned above his head and he can’t do anything but open his mouth and wish he could scream — not for his own pain, but to let out the immense sadness and regret he can feel coming from the man who is relishing and regretting everything about this.

He has no idea what kind of look he is giving.

He can only feel the hand that turns him around, “…Looking at you makes me so godsdamned angry…” A growl without any actual bite. “I know you can stop this. I know you are letting me do this…”

The question is why.

And as he feels his fingers interlock with the man’s on top of him, he realizes that he simply doesn’t care about the why. This feels correct and as it should be. They will fight. One of them will die.

So be it.

One of them does deserve a happy ending anyway, and he is sure as all hells it is not himself.

—————————

“You can’t do this!” Someone is yelling. “…Are you…? Do you even realize how fractured you are?!”

He does not open his eyes, remaining sitting next to a bed.

“…We can…probably, understand you feel the need to repay a favor but — there’s a point where you’re just…being suicidal.” A softer voice warns him, he does not care.

Steps come closer and finally someone grabs him by the shirt, raising him from the chair and making him open his eyes, “We saw you almost die…! Why are you trying so hard to kill yourself, Meteor?!”

The Warrior of Light glares at Thancred and the Pendants’ room is filled with a silence and tension that could be cut down with a sword. Atop the bed is the body of one Ardbert Hylfyst, someone who should’ve been dead a hundred years ago, someone who begged Minfillia for release and peace a few years ago only, by the Scions’ recollection of events.

And yet, there he is. Breathing steady and relaxed, not waking even with the sounds of screaming as the poor Hume is too tired and not used to be alive after haunting the First shard for the said hundred years.

His fate was to rejoin with Meteor and allow the Warrior of Darkness to survive.

But Meteor has never been good at standing there and accepting fate.

“So I should just let him go?” Meteor asks, making everyone surprised as they hear not his voice, but the voice of the man resting at the bed…but that was Meteor, himself, speaking. “Let fate take someone else away from me…?”

“He was already…”

“So what?” Meteor pushes Thancred away and as Y’shtola tries to scold him, as well, he looks around at the Scions.

His family.

His beloved family.

“I accept the consequences of my actions — and this is not because I am being grateful. This is because he doesn’t deserve that, neither that end or to just vanish away while I am the one who keeps going on…and on…” He looks towards the bed and he sighs, lowering himself until he is kneeling next to it. “…I want to give him the life he should’ve gotten.”

Silence reigns again.

And Meteor knows everyone probably realized the words he left unsaid —

I love him and I will go against the very fabric of the Star for him. I will face death again for him. I will bend the rules of destiny to my will, For him.

And so the Warrior of Light, whose destiny was to face an interminable battle alone — chained himself to another soul, to a soul that should be long gone.

And called him a soulmate.

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

When you see a post about romance or kissing or sm and just for a second you can't help but think of the person you're in unrequited love with.

[garbageconnoisseur]

Homeless LGBT couple needs help!!! (Valentine's Edition ❤️❤️❤️)

Hello everyone! ❤️Happy Valentines❤️

My family is homeless and we have been struggling to find work. The weather has been cold and rainy and I've been getting progressively more ill with each passing month. I have been going to the doctor and I have another appointment coming up but it's going to take a while to be okay. In the mean time, going without shelter and the lack of regular access to food has been making things worse. Up until now, I've been getting a little help regularly to cover important bills but as of this month that has fallen through so we really could use some support.

Right now, we need help affording food, a motel room, toiletries, and important bills, like car insurance. If we lose access to the car, I can't work or get to the doctor and I know things will only get worse from there. I'm trying my best to make ends meet on my own but until my wife or I find a job that will take one of us, we're pretty vulnerable. If you can send help, please do so; this is an ongoing need. If you cannot, please share this post where it will get some positive attention. We are getting less and less as we go and if we don't get help we won't make it. We're burning out pretty bad and I know I can't take much more going wrong before I break. Thanks for everything, friends. I appreciate you all who have helped so far, so very much.

Venmo: @garbageconnoisseur CashApp: $garbageconnoisseur PayPal: @garbageconnoisseur

DM for Zelle. Please no hate, you will be blocked. No unsolicited advice either, please. I just don't have the energy for it anymore.

[peachdues]

I vowed not to fight anymore, if we survived the Great War

Giyuu shot up in his futon, his hand flying to the stump where his sword arm used to be. For the briefest moment, he thought he could feel his hand clenching around his blade once more, as though it were still a natural reflex.

As though he still lived in a world where he’d need it.

His breath was ragged as he tried to calm down, counting backwards from ten as he worked to take in his surroundings, needing to convince himself that he was not in that cursed demon castle, unable to fight his way out; he was home, he was safe, he was —

“Giyuu?” A sleepy voice came from his right, and the ravenette felt the shift in the padding of his futon as a gentle hand patted its way up his side, seeking him out.

Y/N’s hand came to rest on the shoulder of his missing arm, thumb running circles into his skin. Giyuu breathed deeply through his nose, closing his eyes and focusing on the soft warmth of her touch.

After a few breaths, the tightness in his lungs eased. With a quiet exhale, Giyuu’s hand found hers at his shoulder and held it in place, allowing her to continue grounding him.

“Go back to sleep, beloved,” Giyuu inwardly cursed at the way his voice cracked, and again at the way he felt his fiancé tense slightly beneath his grip, sensing his distress.

He wished his voice hadn’t betrayed him, for he felt Y/N shift once more as she sat up, bringing the soft blanket up with her to cover her bare chest.

“My love?” Her voice was gentle yet concerned as Y/N drew herself up next to him, pressing her lips against his shoulder. “Has something troubled you?”

Giyuu’s grip around the hand on his shoulder tightened. “Nothing is the matter — I am only restless.” He twisted his head to brush his lips quickly against her knuckles, though he could not bring himself to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry for disturbing your rest.”

He felt his fiancé’s head shake as she rest her cheek against his upper back, her hair tickling his skin. “Have you had another nightmare?”

He knew it was irrational, but he felt his jaw clench, anger flaring through him; not at her, but at the fact he couldn’t get a grip on how that damn castle haunted his dreams.

Or on the way those dreams had begun featuring the bodies of his fallen comrades, more and more.

“I’m only restless,” Giyuu repeated, his voice a bit harder as he gently removed Y/N’s hand from his shoulder.

Though he was turned away from her, he could hear how she fidgeted under the blanket in her unease.

“Giyuu,” her voice had taken on a surprising timidity that made his gut twist with both guilt and frustration. “I cannot help you if you do not let me in.”

“How could you help me?” The words shot out of his mouth before he could stop them, but once he started, Giyuu could not stop. “What have you seen, what troubles have you endured, that plague you at night? That would make you understand?”

He did not have to look at her to know that Y/N recoiled at his harshness, and the heavy silence between them settled like lead in his gut.

“Y/N, that was —“ Giyuu began.

“You’re right.” Y/N’s voice was soft, so incredibly soft that he almost didn’t hear her. “Forgive me, Giyuu. I did not mean to imply I understood what you’ve gone through. I only meant that I wish to help ease your burdens.”

The former Pillar finally turned to face his fiancé, and the moment he did, he felt himself crumple at the sight of her eyes, full of sadness at his words.

Full of a curious wariness, too, as though she were searching for something within his own eyes, something that made her tense and apprehensive.

[jenscx]

FALLING — kim minjeong x f!reader

marriage life was great. minjeong was the best wife you could ever ask for; she’s sweet, caring, patient… the list goes on. she’s your favourite person, even when upset, you still think she’s the cutest.

TAGS — fluff, zero angst, ceo!minjeong, arranged marriage!au, established relationship, jealousy, continuation of daydreamin’

WORDCOUNT — 3.7k

being married to minjeong was like a dream. you had to constantly remind yourself by staring at the gleaming diamond ring wrapped around your finger. the weight of the ring on your finger never fails to bring a smile onto your face. already grinning at the thought, you turn your whole body, watching it shine in the moonlight.

unfortunately, turning to face the window meant turning away from the warmth of a body— minjeong’s. the girl stills in her sleep, groaning slightly and snuggling deeper into your hair. you take a peek at the sleeping girl, but take no action in turning back. seemingly upset, minjeong’s face furrows into a look of displeasure. slowly, her hand trails along the naked skin of your waist exposed by your sleep shirt riding up. a firm grip of your waist and you’re pulled back into her embrace. it was ironic that the cold girl was an extreme cuddler in her sleep.

she lets out a sigh, relieved that you were finally back in her arms. you retract your hand from admiring the ring in the moonlight back down to rub small circles over the back of minjeong’s hand. your wife doesn’t make any more movements, signalling to you that she’s finally fallen into deep sleep. it makes you content that minjeong is getting the rest she needs. after a rather exhausting day at the company, minjeong had come home, hair tousled and eye bags deeper than usual. you couldn’t help but notice the tremendous amount of yawns she let out during dinner.

if it wasn’t for her growling stomach, you would have immediately put her to bed. yet, she seemed equally hungry and tired. it had been a few months since she first brought up the deal with one of the businesses in china and minjeong had told you that they finally sealed it this week. you couldn’t believe your wife was the ceo of a company when she was jumping up and down joyfully. if she had a tail, it would be wagging.

(“minjeong, has anyone told you that you look like a puppy?”

“are you calling me a bitch? and yes, yizhuo said i look like a dog.”)

you were glad minjeong was such a competent worker who only strived for perfection. her work ethic was insane, and the company’s success spoke proudly of it. however, you just wished she could take a break sometimes. it seemed like her mind was overtaken with business and work. maybe your wife was a workaholic. that didn’t stop her from leaving the company building at exactly 5pm to get home to eat dinner with you though.

it only made your feelings blossom even further for her. kim minjeong, who cannot stay away from her job for less than a day, comes home on time to eat dinner with her wife. it was endearing. a whiny groan from minjeong makes you turn your head to her. minjeong had somehow burrowed her head even further into the crook of your neck, cheeks squished between the pillow and your shoulder.

ah, kim minjeong was so cute.

smiling softly at your wife, your eyelids flutter shut, relishing in the warmth that minjeong provides, for both your body, and your heart.

the ray of sunlight beaming through the slit of the curtains is the first thing you see. it hits your eyes directly, forcing you to turn away from the window. the second thing you notice is that the warmth previously surrounding your body is gone. frowning, you open your eyes, disappointed that minjeong wasn’t by your side anymore. yawning and stretching your arms out, you peer around the room. the duvet has been neatly folded to cover your whole body and the pillows on minjeong’s side of the bed are tidied up against the headboard. you get up from the bed and quickly brush your teeth and shower.

fresh out of the shower, you notice the bedroom door is slightly ajar, leaving a crack for the aroma of pancake batter to seep in. your stomach gurgles unintentionally at the hint of breakfast, and your heart lightens when you realise minjeong’s probably in the kitchen and you can spend extra seconds with her.

padding your way to the kitchen down the stairs, the sight of minjeong with her now blonde hair tied sleekly back. her body is adorned with a cute, frilly, white apron that is knotted at her waist. it makes you swoon.

your wife is humming a familiar tune, you deduce that it’s one of the many harry styles songs she’s made you listen to. slowly, you walk closer to minjeong, who’s still unaware of your presence.

“mindoongie,” you greet, “good morning.”

minjeong jumps, gasping as the spatula in her hand falls onto the counter. she turns to you, eyes wide.

“you scared me, baby,” she sighs, picking up the fallen spatula and transferring the last pancake from the hot skillet onto a plate, neatly decorated with an assortment of various fruits. you giggle apologetically, “sorry, i thought you heard me coming.”

your wife shakes her head and carries the two plates to the kitchen island. you take a seat on one of the barstools, eyes laser-focused on the dripping maple syrup cascading down the pancakes like a waterfall. your mouth salivates.

“this looks so good.”

“I’m glad,” minjeong takes the seat next to you, gently slicing through the pancakes and tasting it, “i think i’m getting pretty good at cooking. maybe we won’t need mr park anymore.”

mr park was minjeong’s private chef, one that her father had hired.

“mhm,” your cheeks are stuffed full of pancake, “it tastes really good. but mr park makes the best soybean noodles.”

minjeong’s eyelashes flutter as her gaze lands on you, “really? i think the one you make tastes better.”

“you’re just saying that, you flirt,” you swat at her shoulder. your wife pouts and it’s adorable.

“i’m not,” and god, minjeong whines. it’s seriously harming you with how cute your wife is. is it possible to fall in love with someone twice? you might need to look it up. maybe you had an obsession— it would make perfect sense. everything that you see, touch, feel, they all instantly connect back to minjeong. you eat at a new restaurant; minjeong would like the tiramisu here. you hear a new pop song on the radio; minjeong would like this song. you see a pretty dress while shopping; minjeong would look amazing in it.

everything reminded you of her.

was that a blessing or a curse?

you hoped it was the former, but with the way she’s almost given you heart attacks with her puppy eyes, perhaps it was the latter.

a poke is felt on your cheek, distracting you from your imagination of minjeong’s puppy eyes. your wife stares at you cheekily, fingers squishing your face, “what are you thinking about?”

“thinking about you,” you answer honestly.

minjeong laughs, “seriously? that’s so cliche.”

you shrug. she only repeats, “what are you actually doing?”

“i’m doing something cliche,” you retort, stuffing a piece of pancake soaked in butter and syrup into your mouth. minjeong merely scoffs, not out of annoyance, maybe out of disbelief that you were still so cheesy.

“i have something to ask,” minjeong says out of the blue. you’re chowing down the last piece of delicious pancake and savouring the flavour when she suddenly springs a question.

“i have a company banquet i’m obliged to attend. will you be my date?”

you hesitantly nod. minjeong’s whole face brightens up, “really?”

“uh, yeah sure.” sensing your reluctance, minjeong slides a comforting hand over yours. “you can always say no if you want.”

swallowing, you reply, “it’s okay, i want to go with you. i’m just worried that i won’t be that extroverted or eager in making business deals or whatever.”

minjeong guffaws, “baby, all you have to do is be right beside me and i would be the happiest woman alive.”

“okay, romeo, you don’t have to flatter me, i’m already going.” minjeong just shrugs, “is it really flattering if it’s the truth?”

you take a large gulp of water.

“when’s the company banquet?”

minjeong flashes you a bashful smile.

“tonight.”

“kim minjeong—”

you pull the hem of your dress to cover the skin of your thighs. minjeong had picked out a black, fitting dress, akin to the one you wore to the family dinner a few months back. staring at the mirror, you take a seat down facing the vanity desk.

“baby,” minjeong calls out from the walk-in closet, “can you come help me?” you stand up, peering in the closet. your wife was facing a full length mirror, her body adorned by a two piece black pantsuit. it matches your black dress rather well.

“do you think this looks good?” she asks. you brush at her shoulders, admiring how good your wife looks. you run your fingers through her messy blonde hair, trying to calm the locks of golden.

minjeong sighs into your touch. “you’ll look great in anything, but this makes me want to jump you.” your wife preens at the praise, like a cute puppy.

“c’mon, let’s go already, it’s almost 6.”

you pull minjeong’s arm, dragging her to the front door. the chauffeur is waiting patiently on the driveway. after getting in the car, minjeong whips out her phone, fingers rapidly working against the keyboard. curious, you peek at the chat.

“it’s jimin unnie,” minjeong explains, “she’s going to be there too. along with some of my other friends.” nodding, you let your head remain hovering above her shoulder. minjeong glances at you.

“you can sleep if you want to. it’s a twenty minute drive,” she whispers, gently moving your head onto her shoulder. drowsy, you let your eyelids close, your hands instinctively going to rest on top of minjeong’s lap. you feel her hand slither into your palm. grasping the warmth, you eventually fall asleep, blonde hair and lopsided smiles burned into the back of your mind.

the comfort disappears soon after. your eyelids flutter open as minjeong brushes the stray strands of your hair out of your face.

“we’re reaching soon,” minjeong murmurs. you nod, your hands flying to the seat to support your body. her hands fly to wrap around your waist, humming softly. enjoying the solace of minjeong’s embrace, you lean into her touch for a few more minutes.

“mrs kim, we have arrived,” the chauffeur announces. minjeong lets out a little whine as she separates herself from the hug. “thank you,” she clears her throat, “i will inform you when to pick us up.”

your wife exits the car gracefully, unable to resist running to the other side where you were seated to open the door.

“charming,” you remark. minjeong has a hand out to steady you, a goofy smile on her face, “anything for my wife.”

you smile back and accept her hand. your jaw nearly drops at the sight. a stunning, white stoned mansion. small engravings of gold studded into the pillars on the patio. outside, the house was surrounded by neat and carefully trimmed hedges. the driveway was crowded, luxury vehicles dropping off their clients, who were decked in even more luxurious outfits. minjeong tugs at your hand. your eyes follow her movement.

“is it pretty?” she asks. you nod meekly, slightly intimidated by the grandeur of the mansion. you couldn’t believe someone would even hold a company banquet here. if it were you, you wouldn’t even allow anyone other than family and friends to enter such a home.

“do you like it more than the penthouse?” your wife asks again. your eyes widen, “no, i would feel really lonely in such a big house.”

minjeong nods, “but you have me. why would you ever feel lonely?” your heart melts.

“on business trips, honey. but i like our house more, feels more cosy and like home.”

she brightens up at the answer. you can’t help but giggle at her cuteness.

“if you said you liked it more, i would have bought it for you,” minjeong says offhandedly. you wonder if it’s possible to fall in love twice.

a security guard greets you at the entrance. while you admire the intricate detailing in the doorframe, minjeong converses with the guard.

“mrs kim minjeong and mrs kim y/n,” the guard repeats, looking up from his clipboard, “you may enter.”

minjeong leads you into the main hall. awestruck, you gape at the soaring ceilings and marble floors. a glimmering chandelier hangs from the ceiling, shining brightly. your eyes wander around, amazed at the sweeping staircase, adorned with ornate mouldings. the room is filled with crowds of people, murmurs bouncing off the walls. at every corner, a table, wrapped with white cloth, holds refreshments.

“kim mindoong,” a hand twirls you and minjeong around. yu jimin stands behind, grinning as she sips from a wine glass.

“jimin unnie,” you greet, smiling widely. the woman was wearing a beautiful black dress, frills of sheer black cloth embellished around the fabric. her sleek hair was tied up into a bun, accentuating her sharp jawline.

“y/nnie! you look amazing,” jimin gasps, eyes roaming down your figure. minjeong’s grasp tightens around yours.

your wife shields you playfully, “don’t look at my wife like that.”

jimin rolls her eyes, “i’m just admiring. is it illegal to look at people now? anyway, i heard aeri will be here too.”

minjeong scoffs, “dressed up nicer for her?” you laugh, thinking about jimin’s crush on your mutual friend. the mentioned girl only smiles wider, “why? do you think she’ll like it?”

“you do know she still thinks you’re with jaewook, right?” minjeong asks, “don’t you think she’ll be put off by you?”

you think back to a past conversation. minjeong had told you about jimin’s ex, or rather ex-situationship. honestly, you had no idea if jimin was purely straight or she just liked aeri. you thank god every day that you didn’t have to go through drama to be with someone you loved.

“ugh, i forgot about that. whatever, i’ll just have to show aeri what she’s missing out on,” jimin winks as she twirls away.

minjeong stands rooted to the ground for a few seconds, sighing, “i can’t believe her.” as you and minjeong venture further into the room, minjeong says, “if i were aeri, i would literally rip jimin’s head off the moment she told us she was seeing jaewook.”

“really? why?” you ask curiously.

your wife laughs, “why would i want to see the person i liked being with someone else? that’s lunacy.”

you nod in agreement, eyes drifting to minjeong’s side profile. your brain already starting to imagine such a scenario; minjeong being jealous. you could visualise her furrowed brow and the purse of her lips. she would look extra attractive when mad. this, you couldn’t deny.

“what are you thinking about?” minjeong’s soft voice floats into your ears. her face is positioned above your shoulders, staring at you with a curious gaze. you shrug, “i’m thinking about you.”

“cute,” minjeong smiles, “i need to go talk to hanbin about branching out into china, wait here for me?” a waiter swerves by, you reach out to grasp a glass of champagne. “of course, go be a ceo.”

minjeong grins at you one final time, and she disappears beneath the hoard of people. you sigh, taking small sips of the champagne. from the corner of your eye, you could spot jimin and aeri conversing. they were in a deep, heated conversation, borderline argument. soon after, they both slipped away from your gaze. you don’t bother looking for them. most likely, jimin would be grovelling while aeri watches.

at the other side of the party, you make out yizhuo’s figure, clinging onto the arm of a woman you don’t recognise. yizhuo was dragging the woman around, probably introducing her to numerous investors and executives. as you watch yizhuo and her guest, a figure shows up next to you.

he clears his throat.

your eyes flicker to meet his.

“hello,” you say slowly. you don’t recognise him either.

the stranger, fitted in a tailored suit, smiles, “hello, why are you standing off in a corner? not interested in talking to the big guys?”

you raise an eyebrow.

“no, not very.”

he flashes an even wider smile. your eyes drift to his hair, black, gleaming, probably run through with heavy amounts of gel.

“i’ve never seen you before,” he notes, “is this your first time attending such a banquet?”

“yes, it’s my first time.”

“i’m sim jaeyun, but call me jake,” he thrust out his hand. you grip his hand in a firm shake, “i’m kim y/n.”

jake’s eyes widened, “kim? are you part of kim minjeong’s family?”

you smile, thinking about your wife, “you could say that.” jake looks blown away, you wonder about the power your wife has.

“she’s kind of a big deal, ceo and all.”

“i’m aware of that.”

“how are you related? have you met her? are you guys close?” he rambles. you're slightly taken aback by the number of questions he throws at you. overwhelmed, you just stare at him.

slowly, he regains himself, coughing into his hand while fixing his hair, “sorry. i shouldn’t have… that was rude of me, but she’s extremely private about her life. i was shocked that a family member of hers would show up here.”

“it’s all right.”

“ah, to make up for my haste,” jake smiled bashfully, “could i offer you dinner?” you halt, gears turning in your head as you make out what jake is implying.

“no, actually i’m already here with someone.”

“i can’t charm you away for a few hours? surely they won’t miss your presence too much seeing as they left you here alone.”

you force a smile, irritated and through gritted teeth, you reply, “i said no.”

“really? who’s the person that brought you here? i’ll just let them know that you’ll be coming with me.”

a hand slithers around your waist, you lean into the familiar touch.

a sweet, honey-toned voice says, “good evening, mr sim. i’m glad you have met my wife, y/n.”

honestly, if it weren’t for the pity you felt for jake, you might have bursted out laughing at his reaction. yet, the humiliation of having hit on a taken woman seems to overwhelm him.

“your wife,” jake repeats.

“i’m afraid she will not be going to dinner with you, as she will be going home with me,” minjeong sighs, rather apologetically. you know this is all a facade. minjeong was just acting.

jake blushes, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know she was already taken.”

minjeong just smiles.

“have a good evening, mr sim,” she waves goodbye, dragging you away from the corner she left you in. her firm grip on your wrist doesn’t deter you from feeling relieved. fear bubbles slowly in your stomach at what minjeong might say. she pulls you outside, eyes narrowed and lips pursed, just as you imagined.

“y/nnie,” minjeong turns to look at you and god, the girl is pouting with full-on puppy eyes, “you let him flirt with you.”

fuck, why was she so cute? all your fear disapparates instantly.

“mindoongie, i wasn’t flirting with him,” you extend your hand to squeeze at her cheeks, “and why are you being so cute? you know i like you the most, right?”

“you didn’t reject him.”

“i was trying to be nice! what if he was a potential business partner for you?” you try reasoning with her.

“i don’t deal business with jerks who go after taken women, and especially not my woman.” minjeong’s jealousy and possessiveness was kind of attractive, you couldn’t lie.

you roll your eyes playfully, “it was just a possibility, and i didn’t do anything to encourage his behaviour.”

minjeong’s pout only worsens, “but you weren’t rejecting him.” you can barely hear what she says, her cheeks being squashed beneath your palms.

“i did reject him, minjeong. he was just insistent,” you explain, “he asked if i was related to you.”

just remembering jake’s surprised face makes you chuckle. minjeong arches an eyebrow, “related to me?”

“am i not your wife, mrs kim?” you pinch her cheek. minjeong winces, grasping your wrist again, “a-ah, yes you are!”

you let go, smiling cheekily at the red mark of your fingers left behind.

“baby, it hurts,” minjeong whines. your first instinct is to lean in, pressing a soft kiss onto the reddened skin. your lips touch her cheek in a feather like movement, softly and slowly, your lipstick covers the previous mark. minjeong stares at you, eyes blown open and a hand cradling her cheek. you pull back, admiring the way her skin flushes again, like wine spilling into her veins.

minjeong is the prettiest this way. all flustered and vulnerable, just for you.

“you’re so cute, mindoongie,” you blurt out. it’s crazy the way your wife has changed; from the brooding, gloomy ceo to the silly and affectionate puppy she is now.

“y/n, it hurts here too,” minjeong pouts, pushing out her lips. you swat at her shoulder, well aware of what she’s trying to imply. “stop it, stupid.”

“but it really hurts!” minjeong’s a second away from stomping her foot and throwing a tantrum. you gaze lovingly at your wife. her eyelashes flutter, big, brown eyes begging for a kiss.

you can’t resist leaving a quick peck on her lips. minjeong sighs happily, pulling you closer.

“only i can have you like this,” she says, more to herself than you.

nodding, you caress her cheek, wiping away the lipstick mark left there. your other hand tugs at her blazer. minjeong leaves slow kisses on your face, from your forehead down to your jawline. you let minjeong have her fun, occasionally letting out sighs and teasing remarks. minjeong just ignores you and continues.

seemingly finished, minjeong rests her head on your shoulder, nuzzling the crook of your neck.

“i love you, kim y/n.”

being married to kim minjeong was great, you would say.

“i love you too, kim minjeong.”

[reignpage]

A Guide to Physics Tutor!Nanami

I've gotten a couple messages from people who are confused about how to read this series, so here is an explanation:

All the smaus on Physics tutor!Nanami are connected

They are listed in my masterlist in order

They cannot be read in standalone

For example: the smau titled 'Newton's first law' is broken down like so

pre-relationship

first pic: of their first text conversation once Yaga assigns Nanami to reader as a tutor Second and third pic follows from the drunk party incident from the last smau second pic: reader begs for a second chance and nanami agrees, third pic: fast forward a couple weeks later, reader is distant because she doesn't want to stop being tutored by him and nanami notices

established relationship

fourth pic: follow a major moment in their relationship where the girl that was mentioned in the previous physics tutor!nanami becomes a sore point for them, reader reaches a breaking point and asks for a break which nanami doesn't fight against fifth pic: reader asks to come over and they kinda begin to get closer again but the girl pops up and reader pulls away once more sixth pic: after 2 weeks of the break, neither of them can stand it anymore and they realise no issue's too big for their love for each other but reader needs reassurance so she asks him when did he know he loves her (remember he's had a crush on her since the first day of first year and has fallen more and more through every tiny glimpse of her)

There is an intentional and purposeful sense of ambiguity in the timeline because it jumps back and forth in order to create a sense of drama.

Think of an episode of Vampire Diaries or Grey's Anatomy where there are flashbacks which serves to tie in with the main story.

Having both pre and during relationship texts creates a contrasts that highlights their respective developments

Such as Nanami getting used to reader's flirtatious nature

There are also reveals about Nanami's thoughts during their pre-relationship moments which adds context to his behaviour or messages

My intention with this not so straightforward means of storytelling is to create layers and depth to the characters

It's supposed to be one of those series where as I post, avid readers will pick up on easter eggs that makes rereading a previous post exciting

------

update:

The previous layout for Physics tutor!Nanami came before I decided to make the EdenU au what it is today, so the story telling layout has changed, even Nanami's after the part 0.5s.

All the parts before part 1 were of the old layout, whereby each smau were divided between pre-relationship and established relationship texts.

Now, the smaus after part 1 are all pre-relationship, following a linear timeline but one that intersects the old layout.

So the new parts actually build up to the part 0.5s, providing more context and depth to those previous snapshots, until we've been caught up to after reader's distant period and Nanami attending the party willingly to talk to her

If you are still confused, just drop me a message.

Hope this helps!

[twistedlovelines]

(Waddles in here at 4am like the insomniac I am)

Forgot to mention last ask— I got fired since you were last 'really active', lol.

As a vers switch, I tend bounce between sub & dom thoughts (and lean towards Yuu's circumstances). However, consider the following: being a sugar baby for some of the boys (given that Yuu is broke & most would have more money than them)... only for them to realize that sometimes, the companionship you provide can come in different forms. When y'all started talking about it, you agreed that he would take the lead more. However, after a particularly stressful period of time, you offer em comfort in the form of taking control & getting em fucked out of their minds.

Need to see their eyes rolling back, cheeks damp with tears, drooling as they're unintelligibly mumbling about how "they can't take anymore" even tho he's cum so much already— oh, you're shooting blanks at this point? I guess we can take a break. You did so good, sweetheart.

—🐈‍⬛

!! i hope you're doing ok babe :(( hopefully u can rest in the meantime, but ik the job markets Rough rn

wc: 850-ish

tags: (gn! reader, nsfw, mdni, overstimulation, sub! Azul, “baby” used for Azul)

yessss i can see this happening with azul in particular!!! after all, he has his needs but. not really the desire nor time to start up a proper relationship. besides, how could he resist such a tempting opportunity sitting in front of him? the ramshackle prefect, with little to nothing to their name but that broken down dorm, their cat, and the clothes on their back...of course he wants to help you! he's a businessman through and through, and letting such a precious opportunity go would be a waste.

he's seen the way you look at him, the flicker of desire in your gaze as your eyes skirt over his figure. assessing him.

he asks you to give him hand jobs first. nothing fancy- just a way for him to get work done faster when he's holed up in his office late at night. its nice, he thinks, when you neatly clean yourself up before leaving without him even needing to say a word.

its different, tonight.

He's been in his office more than his bedroom as of late, despite his dedication to sleeping properly (business cannot prosper on a weary mind, after all). Yet a recent lack of revenue (due to the nature of the first years being less competent than last years') has forced him to manage the fallout himself.

It's unbecoming of him. His blazer has been haphazardly thrown over a guest chair, and his hair's gone askew, his hands having run through them in an attempt to self-soothe.

Still, Azul's never been great at soothing himself.

It's Jade who calls you. Politely asks you to attend to Azul since he seems to be too busy to call you himself. Says a break might do him some good- something to get things off his mind.

You agree easily once he mentions giving you a bonus on top of what Azul usually pays you: a favor.

It's suspicious, but you take it anyways. Favors from Jade of all people are rare, and what he's asking for isn't exactly demanding. Azul's not exactly difficult to please.

Not when it comes to your touch.

You slip in easily enough, the spare key Azul had given you coming in handy. He doesn't seem to notice your presence at first, mumbling something along the lines of putting any papers in the guest chair. With a fond sigh, you make your way to drape yourself over the back of his chair. 

"Aw, have you been working too much? Poor thing," you coo. 

He jolts up in surprise, face snapping to yours as his eyes widen. His hair, having fallen from his signature appearance, moves easily as you brush it aside to place a kiss on his forehead. Azul melts under the soft touch, but freezes a second later.

“Did Jade call you?”

“Maybe.” 

Without skipping a beat, you move to settle in his lap, running your hands down his arms to settle them around your waist. 

“Still, it’s been a while since you’ve called me. I’ve missed you, you know,” you purr, loosening his tie. 

“I’ve been- ah- busy,” he retorts breathily. The pressure of your lower half gently grinding against his own is delicious, but with how busy he’s been, he’s far more sensitive than usual.

“Since when are you not?” 

He feels your mouth smile against his throat as you pepper love bites along the pale skin. The heat of your skin is delightful under his fingers, and he moves them under your shirt to skim along the curve of your spine.

A soft moan escapes him as you roll your hips against his with a particular force, blunt nails digging into the fat of your hips instinctively. 

“Already close, Azul?” You tease, nipping the lobe of his ear.

This is your favorite part of having sex with Azul, you think.

He huffs, turning his head to the side. A pretty blush has bloomed across his cheeks, the color complimenting his silvery lashes. His bottom lip is swollen from his efforts to stifle his moans- despite his office being thoroughly soundproof. You cup his cheek with affection and sigh as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking comfort on the edge of his release. 

“That’s alright baby, you can cum.”

A peek of tongue flashes out of his mouth at your words, and desire curls hot in your gut as you watch him lick at your palm in an attempt at self-soothing, hips rutting unsteadily against yours. 

You let him continue like that for a moment before withdrawing your hand and kissing him properly, shushing his whines. 

"Oh? Still have some tension in you, Azul? Maybe cumming a few more times will help with that.” He shivers at your words, baring his neck to you as you lave your tongue over a hickey you had left on his neck. Only an incoherent mumble makes it through his lips, but its damning all the same.

“Good.”

~

reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[thewritetofreespeech]

BG3 - Taking care of sick Reader [p. 2]

prompt: I'm sick again. So in the spirit of the last one, I wrote a new version with Halsin and the teffer boys to feel better.

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

‘Your head throbs in tandem with your own heartbeat. Pain coursing through your body with every stifled breath you take, as your tight chest struggles to fill with air. It had been a long time since you were sick. You nearly forgot how uncomfortable it was. Without the tadpoles protective qualities to shield you anymore, this new wave hit you like a stone wall. You almost wished to have it squirming mass back in your brain just to be over this. Luckily, you were not alone at least.’

Halsin

“How are you feeling my love?”

You open your eyes to see Halsin had returned home. The small cottage you share really just being one large room, so his presence was hard to miss. Even in your state.

You try to sit up, but the druid encouraged you to lay back down. “Don’t get up. You’ll need your rest. This bug going around is quiet the foe. Three more of the children have fallen ill to it.” You roll your eyes at Halsin. Though you loved helping with the children and orphans, you were also certain those little germ buckets are what got you sick. “Here, I made you some tea. The herbs and willow bark essence will help with the fever.”

Halsin helped you up now to drink your tea. The warm liquid soothes your throat. You felt a little better already. Still….

- Can’t you just heal me with your magic? I thought you were the best healer at the Grove.

Halsin barked out a laugh. “We’re quite far from the Grove now, my love.” He meant that both literally and figuratively. Their time away from the old druid sanctuary reaching further & further each day. “Besides, for all Oak Father has bestowed upon me to heal, there are some matters that even I cannot intervene. Nature must take it’s course in this.”

- That’s ridiculous.

“It is the will of nature.” You jump nearly out of your skin at the sound of Thaniel’s voice. His unending stare peering at you from the end of the bed. “Sorry. Did I forget to do ‘the knock’ again?”

You try to regulate your heartbeat again as Halsin carefully chastised Thaniel for entering without invitation and startling you. “We were worried.” He told Halsin. Still, he apologized and left your home moments later.

“Seems I’m not the only one concerned for your recovery.” Halsin teased when you were alone. “The children ask for you too. They made you this.” He then handed you a piece of parchment from his pocket. A crude drawing of you, the children, and bear Halsin lay upon it. Your heart suddenly softened for the little germ buckets. “Get some rest.” The druid then told you, before kissing your cheek. “I will be late tending to the other fallen, but don’t hesitate to call for me if you need. Though I am needed you are still my top priority.”

It warmed your heart to hear it, but tell him to go as others needed him too. You finished your tea and went back to sleep. As you drifted off it felt like someone was watching you….but you couldn’t be sure.

Dammon

“Sweetheart? Are you awake?”

You turn your head to look towards the door. A small sliver of light spilling through as Dammon slipped in. His brow knitted in worry. “How are you feeling?” He asked and you merely groan.

Dammon’s brow knitted deeper, and he reached forward to check your forehead. “I can’t tell if your fever broke. With these old forge hands, I’m not so good with temperature anymore. Do you still feel warm? Feverish?”

You shrug. You flicker between bouts of overheating and ice cold. Which probably meant that your fever was still on you.

“Sorry I couldn’t be here much today to take care of you.” He apologized. “With work being steady now it’s hard to get away. Even if I want to.” You tell him that it’s fine. You know his work was important and he had customer demands to meet. “I’d forgotten what it was like running it all on my own. I missed having you there.”

Dammon brushed the side of your face with the back of his hand. Calm. Soothing. “Shall I get you anything? New blanket? Fresh water? Have you eaten?” He seemed to want to make up his absence for the day in the next hour, but you quietly shush him away and tell him you just want sleep. He seemed disappointed in not being able to help but understood. “Well, I’ll be on the other side of the door if you need anything. Better yet, I’ll just check on you in a bit. See if you need anything.” Dammon leaned over a kissed your head before he saw himself out.

He indeed did come to check on you every hour. Seeing if you needed anything. Anything he could do. On his last visit he came in to bed with you for the night. Wrapping his arms around you in comfort to get some final sleep. Dammon needed his rest too after all. Lest you both be on the mend.

Zevlor

“How goes the siege my darling?”

You look up from your book as Zevlor came into the room. Hearing him come into the small shack you had made home before he announced himself. Removing his armor like any good soldier off the road.

You tell him you are fine. At least not being physically sick anymore. “That’s good.” He commented as he came to sit beside you. “Or it could just be that you haven’t eaten my cooking since the last bout.”

You chuckle at Zevlor’s joke and nudge him with your leg under the blankets. “I’m sorry there isn’t more I can do for you. Hellriders aren’t known for their healing. Except the occasional arrow wound.” You chuckle again and tell Zevlor that he’s doing fine.

“The priests at the temple did give me this.” He held out a small potion bottle. Likely for vitality or increased health. “And! This.” He then produced a shiny apple. “How about I cut it up for you and we’ll see if it’s actually your stomach or my cooking. Then, we’ll take a short walk for some fresh air. Can’t have you cooped up in here all day.”

You tell Zevlor that that would be lovely and let him offer you a kiss before he went to prepare your apple. You’re able to keep it down and at least walk to the temple from your home a few paces behind it on the patch of earth the priests let the former Hellriders call home. Zevlor cautiously by your side in case of any stumble or signs fatigue.

Rolan

“Shall I get you another blanket? Some tea?”

“Lia, Rolan said that they need their rest.” Lia tsked at her brother.

“What does Rolan know? Who do you think took care of you two when you were sick?”

“Surely not you,” the siblings flinch and turn to see Rolan in the doorway, “as we would all be dead given that you can’t follow basic instructions.”

“I was just trying to help!” Lia insisted.

“Rest, fluids, nutrient dense foods to keep the patient’s strength up, and this.” Rolan held up a vial he had clearly concocted on his own in the tower. “It’s what all the books say. Now leave Lia. A critical part of dealing with illness is quarantining the infected from others. You’ll be even less help if you’re sick too, and you’re much worse of a patient.” Lia growled at the wizard and stomped her feet out. Cal whispered a quick ‘get well soon’ to you before he fled after his sister.

Rolan tsked after Lia’s shadow. An exact copy of the gesture & sound she had made before, which made you wonder who had picked it up from who, before he came to your bedside. “Here. Drink this.” He handed you the vial as he lifted your arm to check your pulse. He noticed you examining it. The violet liquid inside the consistency of warm syrup. “I said drink it. Not look at it.”

You glare at Rolan as much as your tired eyes would allow but do as he said. The purple liquid even tasted like violets. It clung to your throat on its slow path down. Forcing you to swallow several times. “Here.” Rolan said as he handed you a cup of water. “That should help with some of the keyer points of this fever. From what I read anyway.” He seemed disappointed though. “Despite all my research there seems no cure for the common illness other than to rest & wait.”

- Your two worst qualities.

Rolan glared at you, but not nearly as fierce as he did with Lia. Playful even. “What can I say. I’m a man of action. I will not apologies for that.”

The wizard then reached over and brushed your clammy forehead with his hand. Careful not to scratch you with his claws; only his words. “I hate seeing you like this.” He confessed. His brow creased in worry. “I wish there was something I could do. Something to be useful.”

You reach out to take Rolan’s hand and squeeze it.

- You are doing something.

Rolan smiled. Letting you hold his hand for a bit more, and seeming equal in not wanting to let go, but eventually pulled away. “You should get some rest now. The medicine will help. I’ll bar the door from Lia, lest she try to ‘help’ again with one of her own concoctions.” His shoulders shudder at some memory.

You make a joke about princesses locked in towers as Rolan goes. A joke he does not find amusing and tells you he will be back later with more medicine & podge for supper. It’s the best thing to help as bland foods were less stressful on the stomach, according to the book. And who were you to argue with ‘the book’.

[rookiesbookies]

mischievous COD ideas😈

Heavily pregnant reader knowing that her hubby doesn’t want to be rough in the slightest with her due to her pregnancy and refrains from punishing her, so she abuses that fully to be a brat

To my sweet sweet brat reader, Im sorry if this is not all you hoped as I am a resident good girl. The one time I was a brat I got degraded (“such a good bitch”) and cried. I hope I do a good job portraying the relationships, if I dont let me know and I will edit it or rewrite sections that dont fit. You also didn’t specify so imma write for my usual set of lovelies. (Im also added Krueger because I’ve recently fallen in love with him a lil bit and he kinda fits thi)

The boys with pregnant brat wife

Price

This man is too worried about helping you get your shoes on. “You’re pregnant, isn’t not being able to see your feet punishment enough?” He’s not going to do much other than pinching you. Whether it’s your ass or your arm, and they’re hard “i had to discipline Soap subtly and im a dad” pinches. He’ll also use pressure points. Give the back of your arm the good pinch and twist. He’s just trying not to take it personally.

Soap

He’s googled what positions he can put you in. He’s googled if its safe for the baby. He has googled what he can and cannot do. He has spoke with your doctors about it, as embarrassing as that phone call was. And for certain punishments, its a long game. Like holding your ice cream you crave hostage until you learn. If he can’t make it sexual, he’ll find other ways.

Ghost

Like Price, he’s also using pressure points. Not the ones that knock you out but the ones that feel weird or make you got “ow”. Cannot get hard and it’s not because you’re not hot its bc he literally gets more flaccid than a limp noodle at the thought of possibly hurting that baby. He’s also very good at holding grudges and every time you brat out and walk all over him, he’s making a note on his phone for later.

Konig

Oh but he just got you to whine and cry you admit you want his cock. He knew eventually he could wait out your little game. “You acted out and now you must wait until I want to give it to you. You ask so nicely though, keep trying. I like when you beg.” He’s so mean, he’d make you wait until after you gave birth and however many times you acted out is how many weeks (or months depending on how he’s feeling) after you have to wait to get any pleasure from him.

Keegan

your toys aren’t doing it for you anymore? Nope. He’ll keep fluttering his fingers over you figure and let you use that tiny dildo he got you that cant even stretch you like he can. That’s all you get. His hands wont even go lower than your waist. They wont even touch close to your nipples. This is real torture. Every orgasm is so unfulfilling. I feel bad for you really. Hope this teaches you.

Gaz

He’s a doormat anyway. I don’t see him punishing anyone. He’s too much of a gentleman. I do believe he’d pull orgasm after orgasm out of you casually when you act up with his hands. Never giving you his dick as much as you beg. Pleading, crying for it, he wont budge. No you can deal with the consequences of your actions while he sits here and watches this movie. “Why aren’t you watching, love? You picked the movie. No, no, stop your whining, just sit and watch.”

Krueger

Sebastian doesn’t care. He’ll find other ways. Like right now you’re legs spread and hands flat against the wall as he spanks your ass, every time he does you have to say thank you and apologize for snapping at him. He knows you’re hormonal, but he’s going to make you apologize. Oh and he’s kissing away those tears and asking you if you understand what you do wrong while running you a nice bath and all the rubs and lotion for your poor butt.

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

[littlexdeaths]

the shire is burning - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

is it the end? or only the beginning?

a soulmate and reincarnation au

warnings: mentions of war and destruction, blood

a/n: this is meant as more of a set up chapter, or introduction into eddie and reader’s future lives. so it’s a bit shorter than the rest of this series will be. each separate chapter will have their own warnings, but be aware— there will be a lot of hurt/no comfort in this series. the universe isn’t very kind to them.

also shout out to @strangerstilinski for constantly listening to my ramblings about this series and with helping me to eddiefy that greek name. and the lovely @joshlmbrt for also looking this over when i was doubting myself. 💕

eras of us masterlist. | next chapter.

TROY - 1184 BC

Blood and dirt.

It has soaked through the thin linen of your nightgown and is caked against your skin. Piercing screams fill the air as you rush through the palace, but the sounds of the war raging outside only draw nearer with each step you take.

He had told you to run, to flee. To get as far away from Troy as possible, and leave him to burn with his city. But how could you? How could you leave the one person that made your soul complete?

Your love was doomed from the start, a young prince and a servant girl. Two souls who were never meant to intertwine the way that they did. But as Troy crumbled around you, none of that mattered anymore— only him.

Once you made it past the palace walls your lungs began to burn from the rising smoke in the air. The ashes of a once great city swirl through the night sky and stain your cheeks with soot.

Soldiers, both of Sparta and Troy clash in a blur of swords and bloodied flesh as you continue through the streets of your burning city. His father and brothers are dead, his city destroyed— you knew there was only once place he would be.

And you would risk your life to get him.

After evading enemy soldiers and crumbling buildings you finally reach the overlook, the highest place in the city. You can recall the many occasions he had taken you there in secret.

But the view was vastly different than the one you had admired between heated kisses. A sea of flames, that was once the great city of Troy.

And him, watching it all with great sorrow.

“Edaphroditus!”

You call his name, and everything fades away when your eyes meet. You rush to his side, and he envelops you in his arms.

He’s bruised, soot is smeared along his jaw and his dark curls are soaked with sweat but he’s never looked more breathtakingly beautiful to you.

“You must’n be here,” he pleads softly, pulling back to take your hands in his own. “It’s not safe.”

“I will not leave you.”

Tears brim in your eyes and slowly slip down your cheeks while he cradles your face between his bloodied palms.

“But my love, you must. Troy has fallen… I cannot protect you here.”

You can see the pain swirling behind the warmth of his irises, which reflects back in your own.

While you knew that the last prince of Troy would be slaughtered on sight if caught, you could not let him slip between your fingers. So you merely shake your head, clutching onto his armor to urge him closer. There was no you without him. And if death came for you, so be it.

Your choice had been made the moment the Spartans invaded your home, and not even the gods themselves could dissuade you.

Shaky hands move to cradle his jaw, brushing away the tears that begin to spill down his cheeks.

“I would live and die a thousand deaths, if it meant one more life with you.”

And when your lips collide, your fate is sealed.

series tag list: @lokis-army-77 @xxbimbobunnyxx @joshlmbrt @bastardstevie

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Could you do uh some story about villain who betrayed hero but then regretted it, and hero hates his guts for it? I just want to see the world burn.

If u don't want to , that's fine, love ur writing, keep shining queen

“You…” The tears in the hero’s eyes blurred their vision and their mind alike. Their hand shook around the blade as they tried to let their own weight the work, instead of actively pushing it into the villain’s chest.

But the villain was just as determined as always, just as strong. None of them were happy about the situation. The hero saw it in their eyes.

Why did it have to come to this?

“I’m sorry,” the villain whispered and the hero could feel how their resistance weakened. Their weapon was already slicing up the villain’s suit.

For the first time, the hero didn’t have a plan. Their mind was full of rage and urged them to finish the job.

With the villain out of the picture, these feelings would go away. They would be able to sleep at night, they would be able to move on and get into a relationship. They wouldn’t dread the hours.

But they couldn’t. They couldn’t kill them, no matter how intense their pain was. They couldn’t kill this person who had shared a bed with them. Who had cared for them. Who had loved them.

Right before the blade could cut through flesh, the hero cursed and tossed it away. Tears of rage and grief ran down their cheeks and they could barely form any words as they sat on top of the villain and broke down into a million pieces.

Their tears fell onto the villain’s chest as their trembling fingers clawed at the villain’s suit. They wanted to make them suffer, they wanted to make them feel the kind of pain that they had experienced, that they were still going through.

But the hero knew violence wouldn’t ease their mind.

“Leave,” the hero said eventually. Their voice was shaking. “You have to leave.”

“Please, I am sorry. I didn’t lie about my feelings for you.” The villain’s voice was calm and calculated as so often but the hero could hear the little bit of desperation that came through.

“No, you have to leave.” The hero dried their tears with their sleeves. It was as if their heartstrings snapped. That kind of pain was completely different from all the wounds the hero was used to. Torn flesh and broken bones — all of that didn’t even come close to what they were feeling now.

“I am sorry, okay? I am sorry for lying. I’ve fallen for you, I cannot help it. I wasn’t supposed to but I did and I — I think about you and I miss you and it wasn’t supposed to be like this, okay!?” The hero shook their head.

“Leave the city,” they said. They had no other choice.

“No,” the villain said. Their eyes widened and instead of their calm demeanour, they panicked. They sat up and the hero stood up, ready to go. For the umpteenth time, their heart squeezed together until blood dropped. “I won’t leave you a second time. I don’t care if you stab me to death or poison me or beat me. I don’t care if you torture me. I won’t go. I will stay with you this time. I will make it up to you. Whatever you want. Tell me what to do and I will obey.”

“I don’t want you here,” the hero answered. “If you love me, you’ll be gone by tomorrow. You will never come back.”

“No, please.” The villain stood up and reached for the hero. Their hands found the hero’s forearms and for a second, the hero was back in their bedroom, waking up next to them. They were stitching up each other’s wounds. They were kissing at the kitchen table.

The hero pushed them away.

“You’re not welcome here anymore.”

“You know as well as I that we belong together,” the villain said. Despite the shock in their eyes, they seemingly tried to keep it together. To use reason instead of emotions. The hero cursed themselves. Even when they hated them, they knew them. They knew every single habit, every single detail. “This will haunt you.”

“You already do.” The hero paused and took one last look at the villain. “Don’t you ever come back.”

[ya-zz]

Leave Everything. Join Me.

Something that isn't a drabble? Who would've guessed... Spur of the moment thing that I needed to get out my silly little head.

Word Count: 2010 Ramattra x Reader (gen)

“Run away with me.” It wasn’t a question, more of a demand. It was a shock to see your partner at three in the morning but his words cause your breath to stop.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Ramattra. I can’t just run away because things are bad.” You say, shrugging his demand away. “I have more to think about, bills, work-”

"But you could have a life away from those that have hurt you. If I stay here with you, I cannot be held accountable for what I may do to those that have wronged you." He states.

"Ramattra, I can't just leave-"

"You do not have to make the choice now, but please, think about it." He places a few sheets of paper on the table, writing littering each page. "Read this, think about my offer. If you choose to stay, then I will respect that, just like I will respect your decision to come with me."

He left an hour after he had arrived and that was the last you heard from him...

The papers still lay on the kitchen table when you woke up from a nap a few hours later. A reminder of the time you could possibly have left. It was a life changing decision, one that needed some thought, but only having less than twenty-four hours to make that decision... it was difficult.

Maybe it would've been easier, no, it certainly would be easier if you weren't in such a position. You had a somewhat stable job, your own place, but with the trauma and the nightmares, it was hard to stay sane most days.

But... You made it this far. You made it this far without the help of someone else. You made it far on your own. You did it. Nobody else did. You raised yourself, you cared for yourself. You picked yourself up when nobody else did. You fought and sometimes you lost, but you were always standing in the end. You would always come back stronger, even if only a little.

A bloody nose never stopped you. Being beaten and traumatised never stopped you. Neither did being on edge, wondering whether you would run into the same people that brought you down time and time again, the people who had threatened you, who had hurt you. You never stopped...

Perhaps running away wouldn't be such a bad idea, afterall.

Your partner quelled any worries that you had when he brought it up at three that morning, but they still lingered. Of course they lingered. Even when he left an hour later, leaving you with the choice to join him or stay there.

Could you stay by his side through it all just to escape your hometown? To escape your nightmares? Is it really fair to just drop everything and leave without saying a word?

The friends you had made, you probably wouldn't see them again, let alone talk to them. Family... well, that was long broken. Your parents never checked in on you even at your lowest, so why should they matter in this decision.

Time was ticking.

You had less than three hours to come to a decision.

He never answered the phone, nor the text messages and you were growing anxious. He's busy, you could say it over and over, outloud or in your head, it still didn't calm those nerves.

Deciding to keep yourself busy, you go for a walk, the icy air hitting your cheeks the moment you open the complex door. The snow had fallen, the streets grey and almost empty.

With hands in pockets, the scarf wrapped up tightly around your neck and coat fastened to the top button, you walked.

And you walked.

There was no destination.

Just walk.

Clear that head and walk.

Or don't. Keep thinking about how much your life will change. If you leave with your partner, you can never come back. You will be outcast. You will no longer be able to look your friends in the eyes. There will be no turning back.

"Oh, sorry!" Someone bumps into you, but you pay them no mind. You keep walking, too into your own head to even offer any words back. They keep walking, just like you do.

"Can I take your order?" The man asks and that's when you snap out of the daze. You had wandered into the cafe, stood in line and shuffled along until it was your turn.

Only when you look up to speak, do you recognise the person who is talking to you. Someone who had hurt you in the past. Do they recognise you?

Their smiles says no, you order your usual drink and stand near the counter, waiting for it to be made.

Perhaps the dishevelled look made it so you wouldn't be recognised, but then when they call your name in that same, mocking tone as they did several years ago... You bite down that anger, shooting daggers at the man as you practically snatch the cup out of his hand and storm off out of the cafe.

Perhaps running away won't be so bad, huh? I won't have to see his face again...

Keep walking... Just... Keep going.

You found yourself back home minutes later, staring at the same papers on your kitchen table. Was it truly okay...?

Meanwhile, Ramattra had been making the necessary plans to go forward with his liberation. He had his blueprints strewn across the console for a moment longer before he transferred them to the empty space to the right.

A worrisome sigh escaped him, his fans whirring quietly in the otherwise silent room. His mind wandered back to you. Were you packing your bags? Were you preparing tonight's dinner? What were you doing?

Ramattra would admit that he didn't give you enough time to make such a life changing decision but with how you worded everything lately, he figured you were ready to leave the moment he showed up to your door at three that morning, but when you hesitated, he decided to leave the papers on the table and leave.

Maybe he was in the wrong for expecting you to drop everything in that moment. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

All he knew was that you were reaching a limit with everything going on in your life, and with his liberation on the uprising, he wanted you to be safe.

If that meant you were staying with him onboard one of his vessels, it would help him charge peacefully.

Regardless of what you chose, he will respect that decision. If you chose to stay with him, he'd keep you close by, reassuring you and making sure that you were okay. If you chose to stay in the apartment, he'd let you go with a broken heart but he wouldn't fight. He'd still try and make sure that his liberation wouldn't cause any harm to you.

You were the one human to actually care for the omnic, who actually gave a shit about him. You showed him things that no other human did and he couldn't get you out of his systems. You were a virus, seeping your way through his circuitry and affecting every part of him.

Ramattra was willing to risk his life to be with you. He'd wander the streets with you, his hand in yours. Occasionally he would buy you gifts, nothing too expensive and he loved seeing the way your smile lit up and your eyes glittered in the light. He'd spend some nights with you when he wasn't working, listening to your troubles and fears of of the future. He could sit there and listen to you ramble for hours.

He had new feelings, new emotions, and that was thanks to you.

Dare he say it, he was in love with you.

So, when the time came, he made his way to the meeting point. The old fountain at the park. A few minutes walk from the subway. From there, should you arrive, he would take your hand in his, press his faceplate against your forehead, he'd thank you for considering his company and then he'd walk you to his vessel.

He was early, half an hour early, but he didn't mind. He sat down at the edge of the fountain, looking up at the sky above. It was pitch black, the odd star dotting the void. He hated what humans had done to the earth, polluting the one planet that they call home.

Despite the attempts made to colonise another planet, he knew that there was no escape. Ramattra knew that the cycle will continue, regardless of the advances in technology. It was inevitable.

Fifteen minutes went by and there was still no sign of you. While you still had time to show, Ramattra started getting nervous. He couldn't control the bouncing of his leg, his system was in a fritz of anxiety.

What if you didn't show? What of you chose to stay here? Could he truly handle just walking away without you? He promised he wouldn't fight, but was he capable of leaving you here?

The ten o'clock train rocks up to the platform, many people get off, few people get on. Ramattra keeps his optics in the direction of the platform, scanning every person that leaves and parts ways to their own journey.

He keeps searching, his heel hitting the concrete harshly as his leg keeps bouncing. When he goes to check his phone, he realises it's dead. Shit... Must have drained earlier in the day...

He freezes, wondering if you had been calling and messaging him since he left that morning. He curses again, this time in omnicode.

Looking back up, there is no sign of you. The omnic decides to wait a little longer, hoping that you would appear.

Ten minutes pass. Twenty minutes pass.

There was still no sign of you.

He knew what this meant. He knew that you chose to stay.

With a heavy mechanical heart, he stands from the edge of the fountain and begins the lonely walk back to his vessel. His hand aches to hold yours, arms aching to hold you against his chest.

The snow crunches under his feet, system images going haywire behind his optics as he tries to find any clue as to why you chose what you did.

"Ramattra!"

His head snaps around, seeing you running up to him, bag in hand and flushed cheeks.

"Ramattra! I am so sorry-"

He doesn't let you finish as his arms wrap around your torso, his faceplate pressing against your forehead.

"Do not apologise. You are here." He hums lowly, his chest feeling tight.

"I missed the train-"

"You are here now and that is what matters to me." His hands trailing down your arms and grabs your hands, thumbs brushing over the fabric of your gloves. "Are you sure that this is what you want to do?"

You nod. "Yes. I want to stay with you."

If Ramattra could smile, he would. His head tilts in a friendly manner as he gently pulls you along. "Good. Let me show you where you will be staying."

The anxiety the both of you had been feeling still bubbles but it was no longer as violent as before. You were on a new path, albeit a dangerous one, but fuck it, right? You only live one life and you were done hiding from those around you.

Ramattra squeezes your hand, a flood of reassurance coursing through his wires as he glances at you, watching the way your lips curve into a gentle smile. He couldn't quite believe it. You had dropped everything and joined him.

Either you were insanely stupid or this meant something more to you. Ramattra knew it would take time to adjust to the changes but he also knew that in time, that you would flourish, that this relationship would grow.

Ramattra felt like he could do anything with you at his side, and at his side you will stay.

[arachniee]

Imagine an AU where reader fell from heaven from the sheer grief of losing Lucifer and had been living amongst the sinners for eons without him so much as knowing. And then he asks Charlie to ask about them when she goes to visit heaven and she drops that information on him. What would go through his mind?

now this was sent when i wasnt accepting requests anymore so even tho i wanted to write a fic, i'll just summarize my thoughts

i would imagine the reason that reader fell after lucifer was the fact that she may have rebelled against heaven because of his downfall. maybe she had started neglecting her duties, or worse, literally did not want to do them until they bring lucifer back to her.

of course, heaven cannot fulfill her wish so they ended up giving her a choice to join him and become a fallen angel. she didnt know what to do, she knew that lucifer was already happy with lilith, but she physically cannot be that far away from him, it hurts too much to ignore. so in the end, she chose to fall from grace just to possibly, even just a little bit, get closer to where he was.

she'd admit, the first few years of her life in this new environment was, well, hellish. But the fact that she knew lucifer was here, no matter how far, it made her feel a tad bit calmer. when charlie finally reaches heaven, asking the angels about a particular one that her father knew. and when they break the news to her, she'd be quite confused. but she'll relay the message to her father anyway, who was (clearly) excited about it.

the moment charlie spoke, the pit in his stomach grew deeper and deeper til confliction filled his every being. she was here? all along?

lucifer would be mad, not at her, but at heaven. and himself. he would blame himself for everything that she went through, before and after her fall. guilt would be creeping up quickly, tears fallings as his mind ran miles. did he hurt her that much, for her to choose to give herself up from what people referred to as paradise? he couldnt imagine the things that may have happened to her here, in hell. the kingdom which he ruled upon. him.

maybe he wouldn't tell anyone at first, but he'll look for her. it would even make his daughter worry, noticing the black, dark circles under his eyes. he hadn't been sleeping properly at all, how could he? she was all he could think about. she consumed him. consumed him in his awake, even in his dreams. she was everywhere, yet nowhere at the same time. she was so close, yet so far.

he knew he'd find her, one way or another, sooner or later. and with charlie's (and the hotel's) help, he knew that he was going to see you again. but in the mean time, while he is "resting" (more like thinking about her) as per his daughter's request, he'd probably make multiple rubber ducks that he think you would like. maybe, you weren't mad at him. maybe, you'd accept him again. maybe, you could learn to love him again.

but for now, he'd be flipping hell upside down just to find you, and he's not stopping until he finds you. or maybe, until you finally decide to show yourself to him.

[khalixvitae]

I never post here anymore due to personal stuff, but I want to reach out on all my socials about this because people need to see it. Can I just say that I am so incredibly disheartened by some people’s responses to what is happening in the South Eastern US/Appalachia? I really can’t explain the level of devastation that is unfolding here under Hurricane Helene. There are people trapped in my childhood neighborhood without power or water because of downed trees and power lines and flooding. I couldn’t get ahold of my family for more than a day because there was a massive cell service outage in my state. Parts of where I grew up will not have electricity for three weeks. My family could be without electricity for three weeks. I didn’t know if my best friend was okay for 12 hours because there was no way to communicate and we live two hours away from one another. I’m entering day 3 of not having electricity.

And frankly, we’re on the luckier side. A town my family has visited every year for the last 20 years is fucking gone- leveled by flooding from a failed dam. Everything including the road is completely washed out, and this is in the fucking mountains. And that’s just what we know about so far during what is still widespread cell service failure. There are entire interstates that have washed out or fallen apart during mudslides- whole towns are gone, and people cannot call for help.

And the number of people I’ve seen, people who say they’re advocating for MY rights as a trans/queer person, who have fully dismissed this in favor of taking to twitter to make comments about how it’s “Trump Country anyway” and how we “deserve it” and “should’ve voted blue to keep this from happening” is brutal. Every time something happens to us down here, out of touch middle class liberals are so quick to blame our collective region of the country for struggles we do not have the time, energy, money, or legislation to prevent. As if we’re fucking stupid and should be purged, like we somehow matter less because our politicians are a breed of fucked up that a whole lot of us disagree with. We aren’t a monolith and we are right fucking here, and mocking us on twitter in the middle of a humanitarian crisis is not going to help your case, I promise.

I cannot explain to you what it’s like to hear somebody with your mother’s accent describe that they can’t pull people out of cars quick enough because the flood water is moving too fast. Everything I’ve ever known is either blipped off the power grid or under water. I’m begging you, please see us as people who are suffering and not as a monolithic entity.

There are trans and queer people here, just like everywhere else. We are suffering at the hands of legislation we don’t believe in, legislation that thinks we should die, and now a mounting natural disaster that we still don’t know the full extent of. There are poor communities, communities that are predominantly BIPOC, disabled people, it goes on. There are a whole lot of us who don’t fit the criteria of the pro trump agenda, who don’t match the bill of what an American southerner looks like in the minds of those who have never been here, who are actively suffering. We ARE voting blue both locally and on the federal level.

But here’s the kicker: it doesn’t fucking matter that we’re here. My life doesn’t mean anything more than my neighbor who might hate who I am to their very bones. Nor am I more deserving of aid than them, even if I hate them right back. The concept of withholding aid or hesitating to help particular regions because of what their government officials believe is heinous. Hell, even if regular civilians believe it too, it’s still wrong and morally reprehensible. Similarly, providing aid with the caveat of “converting those stubborn hicks” to the cause is downright evangelical and fucking evil. This is a humanitarian crisis, and people need help. And truly if you think it would be better if the south couldn’t vote, or that we collectively deserve this on some moral or karmic basis, I really need you to think critically about those exact talking points because they should sound shockingly familiar. Governments should help their people, and that should be a bipartisan priority. I don’t give a fuck what anyone says- people who are ignoring this because of where it’s happening are vile and need to get themselves sorted out. And the people who do think this is some sort of universal comeuppance for this part of the country can- and I mean this truly deeply, from my heart of hearts- go straight to hell.

I’m going to be posting resources to help those in need in the Appalachia region, as well as Florida. I’ll include shelters, food banks, etc. I’ll have them out soon. I don’t use this blog really anymore but this is the least I can do.

[literarystarfish]

Caretaker's Friend

Whumpee being rescued and brought home with Caretaker to try to recover. Only for Caretaker to leave Whumpee in the hands of a friend for a while who only makes their recovery harder.

~2800 words

cw: past forced starvation mentioned/ past forced isolation mentioned/ past violence mentioned

-

Whumpee’s recovery, by all of Caretaker’s standards, was going great.

They’re making progress. They’re doing so well in fact!

Both Whumpee and Caretaker had fallen into a healthy day-to-day routine where Whumpee is moving forward. Not, of course, without a few missteps, but all in all they’re doing great! They still can’t be alone for long periods of time. Too much solitude still terrifies them, makes it so their mind plays tricks on them—makes it so it feels like Whumper is leaving them in that dark pit, alone and cold and wet and starving as a punishment again.

So when Caretaker is called away for something they cannot possibly get out of, despite their best efforts, they are forced to leave Whumpee with a trusted friend. A friend of theirs that Whumpee had met a time or two before the whumping even! A friend they’ve met again plenty of times with Caretaker after. Caretaker trusts them and even Whumpee seemed to be only a bit wary of them after getting to know them more. Much better than the absolute terror of having someone new come into their home, at the very least!

Surely Whumpee and Caretaker’s Friend (CF) were going to be alright for just a week together! They both agreed. They could do it! They would be fine!

Plus, Whumpee was doing so great and being so independent, even if they just needed another’s presence to fend off Whumper’s solitude. CF could provide that presence and perhaps help in case Whumpee had any difficulties or setbacks. Just until Caretaker returned!

Just a few days!

And day one went off without any major hitches. CF wasn’t used to Caretaker and Whumpee’s routine, so of course the going wasn’t as smooth as when Caretaker was there, but it was still fine. CF didn’t always seem as willing to help Whumpee with the small things like Caretaker either, so Whumpee found themself trying their best to be more independent. That’s a good thing though! Right? Independence again!

Maybe they didn't need to have Caretaker there all the time anymore. They were handling this! Perhaps they were a little more anxious, but they're getting through it! If only it didn't remind them of Whumper, but those are just memories. Nothing real... anymore.

But then on day two, CF seemed a bit more standoffish and annoyed, especially when Whumpee was having a bit of an unresponsive panic attack after CF had come up on them a bit too silently.

Whumpee had been concentrating hard on a small craft—crafts, Caretaker had said, were a great way to keep their mind off things and something to bring them joy and accomplishment!— when CF had come behind them and grabbed the pair of their safety scissors to cut a small string off their own clothes that had come unraveled.

Whumpee, of course, hadn’t heard them approach, though they knew Caretaker had warned CF not to come up on their back without a verbal warning (surely CF just forgot!), so when a sudden figure behind them grabbed the scissors of all things, Whumpee couldn’t help but imagine the terrible things Whumper could have and would have done with those scissors. (After countless nights of pain from other such sharp things, scissors weren’t a far stretch to imagine in the hands of Whumper.)

This, of course, sends Whumpee into a state. Panicking and hyperventilating and sobbing that they were sorry and not to hurt them, despite anything CF said to counter the idea that they would.

“Oh, come now! I wasn’t going to hurt you.” “You know you’re not with Whumper anymore. This is Caretaker’s house!” “What could I even do with safety scissors anyway?!" "I'd really have to put effort into it if I was going to hurt you. I could barely cut you if I even tried!" CF tried to calm them, but hearing Whumper’s name like that (another thing Caretaker had warned them not to speak of that CF surely just forgot in their haste to try to settle them) and the reminder of how easily mundane things could be used to hurt them if someone wanted to only made it worse.

CF sounded so exasperated by Whumpee’s panic the longer it went on that Whumpee could only think about how bad they were being. A burden. How annoyed CF was that they wouldn’t—couldn’t— calm themself down.

They were unsettled the rest of the day after they managed to pull themself out of it. They found themself needing CF’s presence more than usual. CF accommodated them, but seemed to do so begrudgingly. (Whumpee understood. After all, they had just been so independent the day before! How frustrating it was to CF that they seemed to be going backwards.)

Whumpee awoke with a start in the dead of night that night to their own screaming. They jolted up and nearly threw themself off the bed. They must have kicked their blankets off themself during the night in their dream. A chill ran down their spine and they started to shiver.

It was no dream. It was a nightmare. A nightmare of being back in Whumper’s grasp. With a pair of safety scissors cutting into their skin so easily. A nightmare that left their nerves frayed and them sobbing and terrified.

CF comes in to see them and Whumpee is thankful for the presence that could scare away the loneliness that was creeping in and for someone who wasn’t Whumper—who now seemed to linger at the edges of their mind after the nightmare. Their door swinging open the rest of the way to see the other familiar person brought Whumpee a sigh of relief.

“CF, I—”

“You woke me up!" Whumpee started at CF's tone, sitting up straighter and clasping their hand behind them. How Whumper had always wanted them when they were angry. Because CF was clearly angry. "I’d just fallen asleep on that shitty slab of concrete Caretaker calls a mattress when you start screaming and woke me up! I thought Caretaker said you were getting better. If I’d known you were so needy still, I’d never have accepted babysitting their charity case. God! Stop your sniveling and go to sleep! It was just a damn dream!”

CF’s narrowed eyes pierced through them and Whumpee found themself swallowing down their sobs even as their tears flowed freely. It was unfortunately very easy for them to do. Whumper hated when they cried loudly after any of their punishments. (It was obnoxious for something they had deserved for being bad! It was their own fault they had been punished 'so stop your sniveling!') So Whumpee had trained themself to keep quiet. It was so easy to fall back into that habit. To stop the sniveling like Whumper wanted them too. (Whumpee may have forgotten that Caretaker has never wanted them to keep their feelings bottled up and that they hated when Whumpee didn’t let out their cries, as loud as they needed to be, no matter the time of night.)

Whumpee tried not to let the whimper out that they felt build in their chest when CF left, shutting their door with a slam. Whumpee never shut their door all the way, feeling too trapped and isolated if they did. Then CF turned off the hall light that filtered under Whumpee's door frame as they made their way back to their own room, bathing Whumpee in complete darkness. The same light that Caretaker always left on so that Whumpee would never be without some light, knowing they were terrified of the dark.

Whumpee didn't sleep again that night.

Days three and four were much more difficult. Whumpee tried to stay away from CF as to not annoy them by being so needy again. That, of course, did no favors to their mental state. Solitude in any capacity was difficult. Now so more than before after the rough day (and night) they'd just had. But it was easier if Whumpee self-isolated so that CF could be happy with them. After all, they hadn’t asked to take in Whumpee! They were doing Caretaker a favor. They didn’t deserve to be annoyed like this! They were doing them both a favor. The least Whumpee could do was try their hardest!

Unfortunately it seemed CF was always in the kitchen. So, in attempt to keep away from CF, Whumpee kept putting off eating until they weren't. They could wait just a little longer! Surely CF wouldn't be there for too much longer, right? But -oh.. CF was sitting in the small, cozy breakfast nook in the kitchen now. It looks like they were reading. Perhaps they will be done soon and Whumpee could get food after.

They were making popcorn now? Another snack? Okay. Maybe a little longer.

But now its nighttime. Surely CF wouldn't appreciate being woken up again by Whumpee messing around in the kitchen so late at night. Maybe tomorrow morning..? Unless of course CF was making coffee again...

Every time Whumpee would make their way to the kitchen, CF was there. Either making food or eating a snack or reading at the breakfast nook or walking in right after them to do any of those things, forcing Whumpee to turn around and walk right back out in order to stay out of their way. They've been starved for days before with Whumper. They can wait just a little bit longer. A day and a half was nothing they couldn't handle.

And right as Whumpee was coming down the stairs a little later to check to see if CF was still in the kitchen, they tripped and fell the last few steps to the floor. It was an accident- they promise! CF had come running in wondering what the racket was.

"No-nothing! I promise! I just... I just fell down the steps a little. I'm fine! It's nothing! An accident..."

"Are you hurt?"

"N..No. Just.. maybe it'll just bruise a little. But... but its fine."

"Thank goodness!" Whumpee sighed in relief at CF's clear relief. At least they weren't angry they had fallen and- "If Caretaker knew you got hurt while I was watching you, I'd be in so much trouble." -oh.

They supposed that was true. If Whumpee had gotten badly hurt, it would likely strain CF and Caretaker's friendship. Caretaker trusted CF. They wouldn't be happy if Whumpee managed to hurt themself during CF's watch. It would be their fault if Caretaker had gotten upset at CF...

CF shook their head with a roll of their eyes and made their way back from where they'd come. The kitchen.

Whumpee sighed and limped back up the stairs on the ankle that would surely stop hurting once they slept if off.

That night, the fourth night, was another difficult one. With Whumpee's stomach growling at them and their body stiff and sore and bruised, they couldn't help but feel a bit like they did when they were with Whumper. They weren't with Whumper, of course! They knew that...

But...

But it was getting harder to remember as their ankle throbbed and their stomach grew hungrier and the night grew darker. Everything felt much too... painful to be with Caretaker still. Too similar to when Whumper had them.

Oh god... what if their head was playing tricks on them. Caretaker never let them go to bed hungry. And Caretaker never left them go to bed alone if they had a panic attack or left them without patching them up if they accidentally hurt themself.

Maybe...

Maybe Whumper found them again? It wouldn't have been the first time their mind played tricks on them, thinking they were back with Caretaker in happier times only to wake where they had passed out (or been knocked out) on the floor and find themself beaten and bruised and starving and alone.

Oh god, they were alone again, weren’t they? They... Caretaker wasn't here. Whumper... Whumper had found them! They must have. That's why they were alone and scared and in pain and in the dark and starving.

Whumpee hugged themself tighter, pulling their legs closer to their chest (and ignoring the throbbing still in lingering in their ankle), unwilling to touch or feel the grimy, cold, damp edges of that damned pit they were surely trapped in again.

Whumper’s pit.

Dark and cold and alone.

God, it really was Whumper again, wasn’t it?

They were taken from Caretaker again! They... they-.. No. Wait-

A memory filtered into Whumpee’s head. A recent memory… of Caretaker leaving them. Of the door shutting behind them without ever looking back at Whumpee. Of Caretaker leaving them with... someone else.

Caretaker left them. They left them! They left them and gave them to Whumper, didn't they? They were finally annoyed by how needy they were. How annoying and clingy they were. With how loud they were with their sniveling all the time. By how often they had to cook them food or to feed them out of Caretaker's own pocket.

Whumpee let out a tearful sob, but they quickly hushed themself. What if Whumper heard?! If they were caught crying again they’d be forced to stay even longer in this pit. In the dark. All alone.

“Whumpee! CF! I’m home!” Caretaker called gently into the home after they managed to finally get the key in the lock. It was dark. Usually Caretaker wouldn’t have been traveling at night, but it had already been five days since they’ve been home and they were antsy to see how CF and Whumpee handled themselves together.

Whumpee had been doing so well! They were curious to see if any more progress has been made in their absence.

“Welcome back, Caretaker,” CF came out of the kitchen with a smile, book in hand.

“Hi, CF! How’d it go?”

“Fine! No trouble at all!”

“Really? That's great to hear! Where’s Whumpee? In the kitchen?”

“No. I actually haven’t heard from them for a few days.” CF grinned happily, “They’ve been very independent. At first they were a bit nervous. Asked me for help and to stay near them all the time. They must have been missing you." CF nudged Caretaker's shocked form with their elbow. "But then they seemed to get better very quick! They barely came looking for me after. In fact, I only checked up on them one night when they had a nightmare. They’ve been calm and quiet ever since! You’ve really done very well with them, Caretaker. I was worried in the beginning when they were so clingy, but it turned out fine!” CF recounted their successful days here. Only after they finished their explanation did they notice that Caretaker wasn’t as happy about it as they were.

“Wait… so where is Whumpee?”

“Like I said, they’ve been very independent. They were doing that craft or whatever it was in their room a few days ago. I assume they’ve been working on it since.” CF shrugged.

“You- you haven’t seen them for a few days?” Caretaker was horrified now.

CF noticed their face was a little paler than usual. Traveling must have taken a toll on them.

“Nope. I know you said they were a lot more independent lately. I guess you were right!”

“In their room? By… by themself?!”

“Yes? Of course. Why? Is everything- whoa!” Caretaker pushed past CF. They ran up the stairs and down the hall, realizing with horror that the hall light was off.

“Whumpee!” Caretaker called as they reached Whumpee’s door. Whumpee’s closed door.

Caretaker scolded themself as they realized calling their name like that would only scare them worse.

“Whumpee, I’m coming in! Its just me! Its Caretaker, okay?”

They didn’t hear anything from other side of the door. That didn’t calm their fears.

“Caretaker, whats going on? I’m sure they’re fine. They’re probably just sleeping or something.” Caretaker didn’t even pay attention to what CF had said.

“Whumpee? I’m coming in!”

When they opened the door, they couldn’t see anything for a moment, the darkness too impenetrable. A darkness that Whumpee was still not okay with.

They flicked on the light only to lay eyes on Whumpee.

It took both Whumpee and Caretaker a moment to process what they were seeing.

Whumpee. Oh god, Whumpee!

Whumpee, who was curled into the center of the room into a tight ball. Their wide, wet eyes poked out from their arms that were poised over their head.

Then Whumpee flung into action.

"I-I'm s-sorry! I... I'm sorry! I'm sorry for m-making you so angry, Caretaker. Please forgive me! P-please don’t leave… Don’t leave me! Don't give me away to Whumper again. Please! P-Please! I’ll- I’ll do anything!”

Caretaker watched in horror as Whumpee threw themself onto the floor at their feet. Their knees hit hard enough that Caretaker heard the audible thump and could imagine the bruises that would form. Ones that took just as long to heal when Whumpee had first been rescued.

They could see the way Whumpee cried by the shaking of their shoulders, but they didn't hear a sound from them as they held it in with their head bowed to the floor.

Bowing to them.

"Pl-please d-do-don't m-make me go i-into the p-pit, Master. Please!"

"Whumpee, no-" Caretaker wasn't sure what to say as they were thrust back to memories of when Whumpee was first rescued.

Back to when Whumpee's mind was still thoroughly in Whumper's clutches.

Whumpee was back to square one.

---

This one got away from me again. It wasn't meant to be this long but I kind of like it so here it is. Hope you enjoy!

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