#I did my best to care for the patient she abandoned but i will take ownership for not intervening sooner

[redrobin-detective]

This is an announcement and a promise: if you are a bad nurse, I am coming for you. If you are rude and judgemental to patients, deny them basic human decency you will face my wrath. If you take shit care of them, think you know better than not only the patients and your coworkers but the whole medical team then you cannot hide from me. I will find you and I will go toe to toe with you bc even the worst human alive deserves care and respect and I will beat that lesson into you and maybe make you grow a heart.

[yolli-es]

this is my first request can we please get a yandere jinx headcanons please

Yandere!Jinx × Reader ❤️‍🩹

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, abuse, mentions of death

This is my first request too, and I am SO HAPPY!! I've wanted to write about this for a long time, but it was difficult for me. Believe me, I broke my head typing all this.

Jinx lacked tenderness and care in her life.

Vi showed her support and love in Jinx's childhood; Silco did the same thing later... it's still not enough.

When Jinx lost Silko and her sister, who had just come back into her life, she was on the verge of death. Not a day went by without her crying, hysterics, and self-harming. It was horrible, painful, and pathetic.

She also took on a mountain of responsibility for which she was never prepared.

And then you appeared. So serious, responsible, and ready for anything. You came to her office and did all the dirty work.

And also very understanding, kind, and patient.

Having witnessed her breakdown, you were absolutely calm. You did not run away, stayed close and pulled her back together.

Even after Jinx's numerous outbursts at you, even after the hard work and all that crap, you stayed. By her side, with her curse.

You reminded her of Vi with your kindness and Silko with your devotion. All the best in one person.

No, more expensive than them.

How could she not become attached to you?

You are the center of her life, the main object of her attention.

It was becoming physically painful for Jinx to be away from you for longer than 8 hours.

Whenever you worked, she always found a reason to be there, justifying it with help or a simple check on the quality of work.

She also began to keep her emotions in check, often biting her lips until they bled just to keep the voices from getting the better of her.

Jinx pays no less attention to her "work" because she noticed how your eyes sparkle while she creates a new gadget or uses it in action.

Now she does all this for you. Just for you.

Jinx just wanted to seem normal to you. Better than what you had already seen. She didn't want to scare you or make you hate her.

That's why she will never admit that she is following you.

Unfortunately, you're not always willing to share your personal life with the "boss," so she had to take matters into her own hands.

Going to the store? She's in the shadow of the stores. Sitting at the bar? She's taken the table behind you. Sleeping in your house? She's outside the window, and in a couple of hours, next to your bed.

Jinx counted all the moles on your face.

She only felt guilty once, when she was spying on you in the shower.

Jinx knew it was wrong, but she just couldn't say "no" to herself then. Mylo made cruel jokes about her afterward.

But it's your own fault for never locking the doors, isn't it?

Now she knows the exact number of moles, scars, and birthmarks on your entire body.

Your things started disappearing, and yes, it was her doing.

Jinx just wanted to have a piece of you in her home.

But then, when Jinx was so deeply in love with you, something irreparable happened—truly terrible for Jinx.

You find a partner.

You didn't even Fucking tell her. She saw it for herself when you were kissing so dirty at the bar.

Jinx was scared. The voices started screaming.

"You've been abandoned again, traded again."

This is the point of no return. Jinx can no longer hold the boundaries.

She didn't want, no, she couldn't lose you like Silko and Vi. She's not an idiot, and twice was enough.

As soon as you are alone, Jinx knocks you out and takes you to her.

It seemed like she had been preparing for this before, like "just in case."

The first month was terrible. You were struggling and didn't want to listen to Jinx at all.

Jinx didn't even tie you up, leaving you to roam around the room freely. This caused problems, and every time Jinx had to fight you. It was shitty, she got seriously beaten by you every time because she couldn't respond properly so as not to hurt you.

She was understanding and patient, just like you were with her before this.

But as soon as you started talking about freedom, Jinx would break down.

She was so angry, screaming and clutching her head. She even brought a knife with her once.

Jinx even swung at you but never hit you. No, that's too hard. You don't deserve it.

Every time after that, she pulled her hair as punishment.

She didn't really want to keep you here, a secret from everyone. Jinx was crazy, but not stupid, and was perfectly aware of what she was doing. But she also couldn't risk it anymore.

What if you run away? What if you find someone again?

Jinx was just afraid of losing you. The thought made her shake and feel sick.

You didn't understand why she was doing this to you. You really loved Jinx, and now you're getting this?

Once you realize that Jinx is just scared, everything becomes easier.

Still, you came to work here just for her. A stupid affair in a bar shouldn't have hurt your baby blue so much.

When she came to you and heard a declaration of love instead of the usual "get lost," it made her freeze. And then smile.

She didn't believe it.

And then you stopped fighting with her, being rude, and seemed to be okay with Jinx's extra touching.

The moment of realizing that it was not a joke was the happiest and, at the same time, the most frightening.

Now she had no room for error and she thought about all the possible future failures. And then you kissed her and Jinx immediately melted. She managed to focus on you and not on her mistakes.

She had never done this before.

Finally, your relationship has become official.

It took you another week before you could finally get out of there. Jinx still didn't trust you completely, even though she tried.

Jinx's house is your home; if you need something, then she needs something too; if you go somewhere, then she goes too.

Jinx was also very clingy. Before, she held herself back and didn't allow herself to touch you unless absolutely necessary. Now, she can do it as much as she wants. She doesn't care where you are, when, or why; there is no wrong time for a hug, a kiss, or a light slap.

Finally, Jinx can ask you the weirdest, stupidest, most personal, and most lustful questions. You are a couple, after all, and that means she has the right to know everything about you.

And it doesn’t matter that she already knows most of your stories.

Jinx adores you and would do anything. But now she didn't trust the people around her at all.

Suspicious meetings with someone better than Jinx will be seen as blatant betrayal in her eyes. And believe me, she won't let it go that easily.

At times like these, she regrets that she gave you back your freedom.

At first, Jinx will be angry. She will definitely start a showdown, possibly right there on the spot.

Often this went beyond the boundaries of ordinary conversation, and Jinx just shot their limbs.

It's their own fault. Everyone knows Jinx, what's their problem?

But when you explain yourself, Jinx finally lets you see her real emotion.

In fact, Jinx is not confident at all. All the important people have left her; she won't survive another time.

Therefore, you are no longer allowed to communicate with anyone other than her.

A relationship with Jinx will be suffocating, but she will never make you feel lonely, unloved or unfulfilled. She also takes care of all your basic needs.

Jinx is one of those yandere who will resort to any manipulation and tricks just so you don't leave her. Otherwise, she will break, and you will definitely know about it.

Your first sex will happen very quickly. What you expected from a touch-hungry girl?

Jinx has no experience at all, so she makes up for it with her energy. She kisses you, bites, pinches, and licks absolutely everything.

She will definitely leave hickeys on you. It's inevitable. 

When it comes to penetration, she suddenly becomes quiet and slow. She is just a little awkward and very scared. 

What if she hurts you? Or is it unpleasant? Or maybe you already feel disgusted by her? 

Kiss her, and it will give her confidence. Jinx will definitely squeeze her legs while you do it. 

When her hand finally reaches your pussy, it will trigger for her. 

It means so much more to her. 

Jinx's hand does a very good job of getting two fingers in at once and pressing on your clit. This is definitely too much for you, so Jinx will have to lean on top of you to keep you from pulling away from her. 

Kisses, kisses, kisses. There will never be enough. 

Jinx will also be very loud. She won't mind at all if everyone knows how good and pleasant it is for her to be with you. 

For the same reason, she will not kiss you on the lips; this will drown out your pleasant moans.

After the first time, Jinx is unstoppable. Now she's ready to fuck you anywhere and anytime. 

Often her initially innocent touches develop into hot sex.

Once you did it against a wall and Jinx held you. It surprised you, but she said that any of her guns would be heavier than you. 

Jinx is also not against experimenting in bed. 

Shibari is her favorite, and she gets better and better at it every time. 

But still, Jinx will never share you with someone. Don't even ask; the thought of it seriously pisses her off. 

Jinx loves to whisper in your ear, "You belong to me.". 

Do the same, and she will definitely get an orgasm.

Touch her as much as possible.

It might be a little rough; it's okay if you touch her. 

Playing with her hair not only calms Jinx down but also turns her on. 

No matter how wild and wayward Jinx is, she will always listen to you. She will definitely notice if you don't like something. 

Ask Jinx anything, and she will do it. 

Spank you? Jinx will make you count. Choke you? She'll be gentle with that. Threesome? NO.

Jinx adores and loves you and is very dependent on you. Sex is one of her ways to show you this. 

I honestly think that Yandere!Jinx is canon Jinx in relationship. I'm also not sure that I wrote everything I wanted to.. I had to miss sleep but I'm just so happy for your support. Thank you. 🥹

[cjsoleil]

Don’t You Care About The Casualties (Bang Chan x Reader)

Summary: Chan has always felt the need to display his power, his control, over others. His girl is always there to watch the chaos unfold.

A/N: This is based on the railway MV, where Chan and reader are both vampires. This is pretty different from what I usually write so I hope it’s still good. Just a FYI, Chan manhandles reader and blood is mentioned (you know, cause they’re vampires).

The tunnels of the railway are loud as Chan walks through them. His own footsteps echo throughout the tight space, his boots meeting the metal of the tracks. His ears twitch at the sound of rats and mice and other creatures scurrying in the dark. One in particular is barely audible but he doesn’t need to hear this one.

“Little bird.” He says, a tone in his voice that could make anyone shiver in fear, “Where are you, darling?” Chan feels a gust of air coming from behind him, not bothering to turn around as he smiles something sinister.

“There you are.” It’s almost endearing, the way he turns around and opens his arms as an invitation. His dual coloured eyes closed because he knows who it is. He can smell it. Fuck, he can nearly taste it. His girl has always smelt so sweet, almost as sweet as she tastes.

“Come here.” Chan smiles when the girl comes closer, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other one holds the back of her head. She shoves her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder, inhaling, “Are you hungry?” Y/N doesn’t offer any sort of response as she stays still.

“I think you are.” Chan tips her head back, placing a kiss on her lips, “Do be patient.” The girl sighs and nods her head once.

“You know, you would never go hungry if you were a little more like me. You are such a picky eater.” Pulling away, the two start to walk side by side on the abandoned tracks, hands linked.

“But I suppose I can understand. Why take anything other than the best when you know that’s what I’m going to give you.”

“If I was more like you-” She starts, speaking in a gentle tone that someone without enhanced hearing wouldn’t be able to catch, “-you would have killed me by now.” The man suddenly lets out a loud laugh, pulling Y/N to his side and throwing his arm over her shoulder, his dull fingernails digging into the side of her neck.

“If we are being true, I already did.” He intentionally picked to prod at the exact spot that Chan embedded his fangs into all those years ago, injecting his venom into her bloodstream, ending her human life forever.

But that is not what Y/N meant. Chan is a very dominant creature. He requires power, feeds off it even more than he does blood. If she was anything like Chan… well, he would have killed her faster than light. Or maybe give her a even worse fate… she shakes her head at the thought.

Y/N isn’t like Chan though. Not when she was human. And not now. Growing up, her mother always told her of demons that feasted on blood, killing everyone they came across. And then she met Chan. Her most unforgivable sin. He corrupted her. She submitted herself to him.

“Kill me again, then.”

“I’m sure it will never come to that.” Chan stops walking, grabbing Y/N’a chin and forcing her to look at him. Even in the darkness of the tunnel, they can still see each other perfectly. Chan’s one eye is an icy blue, the other is white, so it seems that he has no iris at all.

“You are my good, sweet girl, are you not?”

“I am.”

“And you will always listen to me.”

“I will.” Chan smiles and leans down, giving Y/N a deep kiss that leaves her dizzy.

“Then we have no problem.” He lets go of her, and they continue down the track.

Y/N frowns when they leave the railway and figures out where they are going. She pulls the hood on her cloak further down to cover her entire face from the sun.

“Don’t be like that.” Chan says from beside her, resting a hand on her lower back.

“I hate it here.”

“No, you fail to see the beauty this place has to offer.”

Opening the chain linked gate, Chan waits until they are both on the other side before closing and locking it behind him.

“What beauty can be discovered in a prison?” Y/N’s apprehensiveness clearly started to irritate Chan. He glares at her, something that even after all these years makes her nearly tremble.

“So talkative today.” He says, grabbing her hand and squeezing so hard it makes her wince, “Gracing me with your voice, aren’t you little bird?” His grip suddenly goes lax, and he runs her knuckles as if he didn’t nearly break her hand. Y/N is smart enough to take the hint. It’s not uncommon for Chan to get these sudden bursts of rage, usually with Y/N on the receiving end of it.

The metal door creaks when Chan opens it, and Y/N forces herself to stop breathing to avoid having to smell dust and dirt. She never has to breathe but it’s a habit she kept from her human self. It separates herself from Chan, who is as if he was never human at all. Born the monster he is. Chan shoves his hands into his black coat, Y/N following close behind. She’s wearing a black book bag over her shoulder, and can hear its contents splash against their containers. They’re in a room apart from the actual cells, with no light nor a single person in sight.

“Give me one.” Chan holds out his hand to the side and Y/N opens her bag to hand him what he wants. A blood bag. Chan doesn’t take off the cap, he bites into the plastic and sucks the blood out of it, basically moaning when the substance reaches his tongue. Y/N watches with a blank stare as he drains the bag dry, blood dripping from his mouth and onto his chin. A few drops even go down his neck.

Chan smiles when he drops the bag, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Grabbing another bag, Y/N holds it out to him. Instead of taking it, he grasps her wrist and digs his fangs into the bag, making eye contact with her as he does so. She doesn’t back down, not when the blood starts to pool in her hand or when the snarls coming from within the building start to get louder. The bag is drained in less than thirty seconds. Y/N used her other hand to grab another one. This time, she keeps it. Chan steps towards the industrial door leading to the cells, throwing it open for the two of them.

Hands reach out in desperation for the two. Chan laughs at the sight and Y/N keeps her eyes on him. She doesn’t enjoy doing this, seeing these creatures that used to be someone, seeing them struggle and fight for a chance to survive. Chan gets off on it though. He likes to play god. Choosing who gets to live and die. She doesn’t know anything about his logic. She doesn’t even understand why he keeps her around.

Ferals are the general name for vampires like this. Those who lose sense of themselves because of starvation, having little to no consciousness. They feel nothing but agony and desperation. Are basically incapable of doing anything but searching for the next meal. They are brought to centres like this one to die. Chan’s the only reason they aren’t yet. He will come in every once and a while and feed them. Enough to keep them alive and nothing more. When Y/N asked him why he did it, he simply patted her head and told her not to worry about it. Then, she figured that he was insane and probably doesn’t have a real reason at all.

Chan rips off the bars of some of the cells. The creatures in them come running out, frantically running past Chan, but he doesn’t let them. Chan stabs his talons into them, watching as their blood gush out. He grabs one by one side of its neck, digging his fangs into their flesh and consuming its blood, throwing them over the railing of to the bottom floor when he’s done.

Y/N closes her eyes instead of watching, not one to enjoy such gore. Though she should be used to it by now. Chan looks around at the bodies that surround him, before he looks at the blood dripping of his hands. He laughs, a manic sort of sound, and wipes the red drops on his face, only succeeding to spread the blood.

“My baby.” Chan goes over and grabs Y/N’s face with his talons, the sharp nails digging into her cheeks and making her bleed. He smirks, leaning in and lapping up the blood with his tongue, “Let’s go outside.”

The creatures that survived Chan’s torment followed, crawling over each other in in their cage of four wired linked fences. One brushes past Chan’s leg, and he immediately lifts the limb and crushed its head with his boot. Y/N cringes at the sound, and hands Chan another blood bag. He kisses her cheek in thanks when he takes it, this time taking off the top and taking a swig as if it is a flask.

“Do you understand why I enjoy such a place?” Chan starts to speak, not looking at the girl who is covered with her cloak. The sun always did bother her more than Chan, “The order of the madness? How one can get lost in it?”

“No.” Y/N replies, hesitating before continuing, “I can’t see it Chan, but I trust you that it’s there.”

Suddenly, Chan’s hand grabs the back of her head and shoves her face first into the fence. Y/N winces, closing her eyes when the sunlight greets her and attempts to back away, however Chan keeps her still.

“You still hungry?” Chan whispers into her ear, the change of topic surprising her. However, Y/N still whispers a word of agreement.

Chan pulls her off the fence, the force making her fall to the ground. Chan grabs her chin and forces her head up with one hand.

“Open up, little bird.” He bites his other wrist, his own blood pooling in his mouth. The sight makes her lips part, her fangs becoming much more pronounced. He grins, the blood leaving pouring past his lips and flowing into Y/N’s open mouth. She moans, taking whatever Chan is willing to give. In the back of her head, she’s aware that Chan is keeping the other creatures away from them. An action that shows he cares. She shifts to her knees so the blood gets to her sooner, choking a little when she doesn’t swallow fast enough. It flows down her face and Chan coos.

“That’s it, good girl.” Chan says, staring down at the girl, “I spoil you.” It’s true. Never has Y/N drank blood that didn’t belong to Chan, having refused blood bags, animals or live humans. She knows she’s a special case. Chan will feed his blood to rogue creatures like the ones around them, but that’s a dominance thing. Something to show ‘I control your very being’. It’s not the same for Y/N, because with her it is also an act of affection, saying ‘I provide for you’. Chan is weird like that, showing affection in gentle touches and words and actions and switching to act with nothing but aggression. Back and forth, back and forth throughout the years. However, Chan has never done anything to truly hurt her. And, for a man that has lost most of his humanity, she must admit that Chan treats her well overall.

She swallows again, closing her eyes and leaning forward, resting her head on Chan’s crotch. The stream has stopped by now, and she just noticed that Chan is hard. Y/N stands, cupping Chan’s face in her hands and lapping up the blood that has spread on his face. Chan lets her, closing his eyes and holding her close, pressing a deep kiss to her lips once she’s done.

“I will leave soon.” He tells her, whispering against her lips, “Would you like to get a head start?” Y/N immediately nods to the chance of getting out of this place. But it is not without a price, she knows. A head start he says, which is to say that this is a hunt. Predator and pray, Chan’s favourite game. Chan kisses the corner of her lips.

“Fly away then.” And flies she does. She climbs over the fence Chan just had her pinned to, purposefully cutting her hands on the barbed wire. She sees Chan’s nostrils flare and his eyes flash black just for a moment. He licks his lips in anticipation.

Y/N went back to the railway. It was the obvious choice, but also her only true way to make it back home. She’s not like Chan with a strong tolerance for the sun. It burns her. So the tunnels with no light in sight are the only way she can comfortably travel. Truly, it doesn’t matter what path she takes. Chan will always find her, he can see every movement she makes. It’s nearly scary to think about how he can predict everything she does.

She feels it before she hears it. A vibration, going through the tracks. It makes her stop, closing her eyes and focusing on her other senses. The scent of copper floods her, and she can hear a tapping sound of what she knows is Chan’s nails against stone. Y/N allows herself to smile, a rush of excitement and fear filling her. She breaks off into a run, choosing pathways at random until she sees light. She stops, staring at the opening that leads outside. Or more specifically, the one who stands at the opening. Sunlight hits Chan’s body in a way that if she didn’t know any better, Y/N would call holy. Blood covers the bottom part of his face, his arms and torso. It’s a mix of his own and others. Y/N can’t even think about running away before Chan rushes forward and pins her with her back against the tunnel wall.

“I got you.” He says in a singsong voice, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck and making her heart beat faster. Chan can, of course, hear it. Feel it, “Look at you.” He says against her pulse point, grazing his fangs against the sensitive skin, “You’re shaking.” He smirks, “Trembling. Are you scared of me?”

“No.” She says, but her body betrays her. It is only natural instinct to be frightened of a being so much stronger. A monster that can kill you without a second thought. Though logically, she knows Chan won’t. Seeing this, Chan lets out a laugh, throwing his head back.

“It’s alright.” He tells her, grabbing her hips and pushing up against her, “It’s safe when it’s just you and me. You know I love you.” The look in his eyes is sincere and Y/N smiles lightly. He runs his hand through her hair, untangling strands with his fingers.

“Are you still hungry?” Chan asks her, a smirk tugging at his lips. She whispers,

“Yes. Are you?”

“Starved.” He rasps out before bringing his lips to her, meaning as he does. He bites her lip with his razor sharp fangs, running his tongue along the wound and tasting her blood. He groans, a desperation filling him and Y/N pushes the black leather, long coat off his body to reveal his vest and dress shirt.

“Fuck.” He pushes her further against the wall, licking up the front of her neck and sucking at her pulse point. He grinds his hips into hers, making her eyes roll back, “You taste good.” He grabs one of her hands, both have completely healed. Chan’s wrist has as well, the only sign of any injury being the red stains on his clothes and skin. It is only when she feels sharp nails on her wrist does Y/N realize Chan still has his claws out. This is not a common thing, usually Chan composes himself after these things, a fight works to calm himself down after a while. However, Chan appears to be extra riled up. She really is dealing with a monster.

“As good as when we met. No, better.” Chan kisses her palm in a moment of softness.

“Well, the best things get better with time.” She exhales, feeling Chan smile against her hand.

“True.”

Chan suddenly drops to his knees and lifts one of her thighs over his shoulder. His nails rip the fabric of her skirt, making her gasp. Giving her a little smirk, he shoves his head under her skirt and licks a line straight up her wet panties.

“Chan!” The girl gasps at the feeling, letting out a loud moan when the other vampire pushes the fabric to the side and dips the tip of his tongue into her entrance, “Oh Fuck!” She can barely hear him snickering, before he whispers a small, “Careful now.” Diving back in, Y/N throws her head back against the brick wall. She doesn’t even register how much it fucking hurts, too focused on the pleasure Chan brings. Not like anything will permanently injure her anyways. He stretches her with his tongue, being careful not to pierce her with his teeth. When she gets close he can tell, her thighs tremble and her hole clenches around his tongue, so he pulls back, licking his lips.

Y/N pants for a few moments, looking down at the man kneeling before her.

“Chan.” Y/N brings her hand to the man’s hair, being careful not to pull at the strands.

“What is it?” Chan stands up whispers against her lips.

“Give- give me more.” She says, wrapping her arms tightly around Chan’s neck.

“Are you really in a position to be making demands?” His eyes seem to gleam in the dark. Y/N leans forward and kisses his neck, moving up to his ear so she can whisper.

“You’re acting- shit.” Chan grinds his hips into hers, “-As if you don’t need me as bad as I need you.” She speaks quickly, wanting to let out the words before her throat closes up on her. Chan stares at her and tilts his head.

“Yes.” He says, grabbing her thigh and hiking it up to his hip, “That I do.”

His hand creeps upwards on her thigh and Y/N instantly jerks, eyes widening when he feels his fucking claws that she had just witnessed him kill with, run along the edge of her panties.

“Wait Chan. No no Chan-“ Fear floods her veins, the idea of Chan getting any closer to such a vulnerable spot makes her want to push him away completely, not that she would physically be able to. “Chan, please.” She whimpers.

“Shhh.” He shushes her, kissing the spot just under her ear, “You’re alright, my baby. Trust me.” Thankfully, Chan pulls away with a little laugh when he sees the expression of fear on her face. Y/N frowns a bit, not liking how Chan must take pleasure in her pain. The smile he wears when he says the next word just proves the point more.

“This might hurt.” He tells her with that same amused grin, letting go of her for a moment so he can lower his pants and boxers just enough to reveal his dick before lifting her up again by her thighs. This time, both of her legs are wrapped around his waist with only Chan’s strength keeping her against the wall. He holds her with one arm for just a second as he rips off her panties, letting the useless piece of fabric fall to the ground. She’s a little prepped from him eating her out, but barely. So it still hurts like hell when he forces himself inside of her.

“Hold on tight baby.” Chan practically growls into her ear, shifting his hold on the girl to keep her steady. Y/N winces and tries to focus on Chan’s tender touches to her thighs and kisses to her throat, “You’re in for a rough ride.”

That’s all the warning she gets before Chan thrusts up harshly and, oh fucking god. Y/N immediately cries out, frantically grabbing at Chan’s back and shoulders as he pounds into her. The mix of pain and pleasure is oh so familiar. Chan kisses her deeply, only breaking apart for a second before coming back as if they aren’t together in every way he’ll die.

“Shit.” Chan grins when he finally has the strength to pull back a bit, “Fuck, brings back memories. Doesn’t it, love?” Y/N is there enough mentally so she nods her head. She recalls the many, many times they’ve fucked here. Hell, just a decade ago she woke up, transformed into her new self in this tunnel. Chan and her did something similar to what they’re doing now that day too.

“Again.” He pants out, kissing her jaw and moving her to meet his thrusts, “Just as good as the first time. Just as tight as when you were a virgin.”

“How would you even know?” She stutters, moaning between words, “That was a long time ago.” It wasn’t really. A decade is basically a week for an immortal.

“I remember everything when it comes to you.”

Chan grabs her waist and quickly changes their position so Y/N is laying on the train tracks on her back with Chan above her. The wood digging into her is more than uncomfortable, but she can’t really focus on that when Chan is hitting a spot that makes her scream.

“Chan fuck!” She repeats his name again and again while she scratches at his back, ripping his shirt. She’s still wearing her heeled boots, and since her legs are around his waist, every time she kicks out she’s actually hitting Chan. He doesn’t seem to notice. He’s giving Y/N all his attention, refusing to look away for even a second.

“What are you doing to me?” He mumbles, Y/N is about to ask him what he’s talking about when Chan rips the front of her shirt with one hand. The rational part of her head tells her that destroying all their clothes is a bad idea, but she shuts that part out when Chan starts to kiss her chest without bothering to remove her bra.

Chan moves one of his hands to cup her head, lifting it up slightly while the other one holds himself up.

“Bite me.” He demands, tilting his head to the side to bare his neck, “Fucking do it.” Always one to listen, Y/N bites the side of Chan’s neck. Blood immediately starts to drip out and despite her attempts to not waste a drop, it still starts to stream down her face and onto the tracks below. Chan moans the second her teeth pierce his skin, throwing his head forward as he starts an even more aggressive pace.

“Good girl, that’s my good girl.”

Pulling away from his neck, Y/N brings her hands to Chan’s hair, roughly pulling without any care.

“Chan I’m-“ She’s cut off when Chan presses his lips to hers, muffling her scream when she comes. Chan doesn’t slow down, and when he pulls away and looks at her with a familiar glint in his eye, she knows he won’t anytime soon.

When Chan is finally satisfied, both of them are covered in come and blood. He looks down at Y/N who looks completely fucked out with a smile, patting her cheek lightly.

“Get back here darling.” After a moment, clarity fills her eyes and she frowns at Chan.

“Fuck…” she sits up a bit, “Shit, my back hurts.”

“Poor baby.” Chan stands up and walks over to where his coat is on the ground while taking off his shirt and vest since they’re ripped to shreds as if a wolf got to them. It really does look like an animal attacked him since there’s deep scratches all along his back and shoulders and even his chest, most of them bleeding. If he was someone else she might’ve felt bad because it must hurt. Chan around and notices her stare, smirking as he speaks.

“Your talons got me good, little bird.” She doesn’t respond. Once he returns to her, he grabs her by her waist and lifts her so she’s standing. Y/N leans her weight on Chan as he wraps his coat around her, making sure it covers her before he lifts her bridal style into his arms. That’s when she notices she can’t see any light, and she looks towards the opening to see that it is now night. For just how long have they’ve been here for?

“Let’s get home before the sun rises.” Chan says, starting to walk out of the tunnel, “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Will you ever be?” Chan hesitates on his next step before quickly fixing his mistake. Looking down at the girl for a second, he then looks at the starry sky before answering.

“No.” He whispers, tilting his head to kiss her once, “Never.” And for some reason it brings her comfort.

[phoward89]

Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika

Summary: When Coriolanus signs you out of the hospital to bring you to his Corso penthouse, you see a glimpse of his dark side. Will that glimpse make you run away from him or to him?

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, Groping, Slapping, um...trying to think of anything else.

Here's the 2nd part of Forever & Ever, My Darling Rose. I gave the Reader a last name, Halvir, in this just to make some scenarios etc a bit easier to write. But the Readers first name is up to you lovely and wonderful readers to come up with.

Story Masterlist

Chapter 2:

Coriolanus marched towards the nurses’ station with a haughty airs to him. He gave off an entitled, but dangerous aurora that had the nurses shaking in their white nursing hats. He'd threatened to kill every single one of their loved ones (friends, family, pets, estranged family, etc) if something happened to you and the nurses were terrified that he'd make good on that promise. Considering you went out of your mind with a nightmare and cornered yourself into your room, resulting in him being called there to calm you down, the nurses were fearful.

The nurses quickly grabbed their charts and scurried off, excuses that they had to check on patients echoed into the air, as the head gamemaker got closer to the front desk. Patients that are most likely asleep since it was nearly 3 in the morning. Yes, the nurses left their charge nurse behind to deal with the wrath of Coriolanus Snow. The nurse assigned to you was the first to bolt.

“I'm signing Y/N Halvir out since your staff is too incompetent to properly care for a victor.” Coriolanus firminly told the charge nurse as he came to a stop right at the desk she was sitting behind, all by herself since the staff abandoned her to face a fate worse than death alone.

The charge nurse refused to meet Coriolanus’ eye while tentatively informing him, “Head Gamemaker Snow, sir, it's ill advised to sign her out. She hasn't been checked by a doctor and she seems to be dealing with some post traumatic stress.”

Wrong Answer. Coriolanus was outraged that some old nurse had the gall to tell him that he couldn't do what he felt best for his, HIS, darling rose. What did that old hag know? If it wasn't for her calling him, you would've hyperventilated and passed out from sheer fear in the corner of your room.

A private room that he was footing the bill for, by the way.

Well, looks like he'll just have to make the charge nurse’s loved ones disappear for her lack of skills tending to you. He'll also find out who was your assigned nurse, make that useless twit disappear along with her loved ones. Well, the Citadel could always use some more lab rats to conduct mutt experiments on.

“It may be ill advised, but I assure you that I am signing Y/N Halvir out of this hospital and taking her with me, where she'll be properly cared for.” He calmly told the nurse as his cold blue eyes cut her down. Leaning down over the desk, causing him to be face to face with the old nurse, Coriolanus hissed, “Your insubordination has won your son, a doctor, and his family a transfer to District 6. Seems like the hospitals there are in need of more doctors due to the rise in morphling addiction amongst the district citizens. It's such a shame that both of your grandchildren, a boy and a girl, will now be eligible for the Hunger Games as District 6 citizens.”

The charge nurse shook with fear as she pleaded, “Please, Head Gamemaker Snow, don't do that. Please, don't be so harsh.” Quickly, she worked on her computer while adding in, “I'm printing out the discharge paperwork now, just don't send my family away to District 6.”

Coriolanus just stood up straight, his full height of 6’0 towering over the charge nurse as she sat at the desk, typing and clicking away at the computer. He didn't say a word to her, just stared her down with cold, dead, blue eyes. 

The charge nurse swallowed down a sick feeling that was welling up while rising from her seat to scurry over to the printer. She silently prayed to the printer, which was growling louder than a feral animal, to hurry up and spit out the paperwork for your discharge. 

Coriolanus grew bored waiting for the necessary paperwork for your release. So bored that he was tapping his shiny black shoes against the linoleum floor. 

Click, click, click. Click, click, click. Click, click, click. Click, click, click. Click, click-

“Here’s that paperwork for you to sign.” The charge nurse told Coriolanus while hurrying over to him. Quickly she placed the paperwork on the desk before grabbing a pen from the cup on top of the desk. “And here's a pen, sir.” She practically threw the pen at him.

“Thank you, but your family's still headed to 6.” He simply said while signing and initialing the stack of paperwork he was given. It seemed a bit of an overkill in his opinion.

The nurse turned as white as a sheet upon hearing Coriolanus’ words, but she didn't dare try to fight him on it. Her family's fate was sealed by the sadistic head gamemaker, a man whose temperament was worse than his father, the late General Crassus Snow.

Once Coriolanus was finished with your paperwork, he left the front desk without so much as a thank you or a goodnight to the nurse, and returned to your room. You were sitting on the bed watching some late night rerun on Capitol tv whenever he entered your room. Looking between you and the tv, he chuckled, “You like the god awful cooking show where the chef curses out his potential staff?”

“We only get 3 channels on our tv back home in District 12 and this is one of the channels.” You explained to him while he made his way further into the room. Truthfully, you were lucky to even have a tv since you lived in the Seam. Your brother Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, had scrimped and saved for years to be able to buy the thing. It was small and second hand; only picked up 3 channels. The Capitol News, Capitol Movie Classics, and Capitol Channel 3. You wished there were more channels, but you were grateful for the ones you had. Most people in the Seam didn't even have that. You know that your neighbor, Corbin, and his Auntie (a mining widow) didn't even have a tv. 

As Coriolanus placed your paperwork down on your side table, you stared right at the tv (as the top chef called one of his potential staff a stupid fucking donkey for burning a risotto) and honestly revealed, “Plus watching all of these chefs get cursed out and treated horribly by their potential boss reminds me that somebody out there has it worse than me. Even though I live in the Seam with my coal miner brother and his girlfriend, who's a local barmaid at the hob, nobody's ever treated me as horribly and rudely as that award winning chef treats the people competing on his show for a job in his restaurant.”

“Hmmm…” Coriolanus hummed. Standing by your side, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear while asking, “And what of your mother?”

“I haven't seen her since she ran off when I was 5 and Rein was 15.” You flatly remarked.

“I see.” The platinum blonde man nodded. He felt rage boil in his cold, icy veins. How could somebody leave you as a child? You were so perfect, so innocent. You didn't deserve to be willingly abandoned by your mother. Oh, if he ever got a hold of that useless bitch she was dead. He'd make sure that she died a torturous death too.

“You signed me out AMA?” You asked, glancing over the form that was on your side table 

“Yes, I signed you out against medical advice because the staff here is doing you, my darling rose, more harm then good. They're too incompetent to care for my Victor and you, Y/N, deserve nothing but the best care.” Moving to the wardrobe in the corner of the room, he told you, “I had your reaping dress cleaned and brought here for you when you were admitted. I thought you'd feel more comfortable in that than your uniform from the arena.”

“Thank you, Head Gam-Coriolanus. I appreciate it.” You thanked him, a bit nervous about what name to call him. In the end you decided to just call him Coriolanus, but it still felt heavy and wrong on your tongue.

“Please, just call me Coryo.” He countered while crossing the room with your simple cotton floral dress in hand. “Now let's get you out of your hospital gown and into your pretty dress so we can go home.” He suggested while coming to a stop right at your bedside.

Instead of standing and stripping naked like Coriolanus thought you'd do, you arched a brow at him instead only to ask, “Home? But I thought you were taking me to a penthouse here in the Capitol?” 

“I am taking you to the Corso penthouse which is now your new home, my darling rose.” He slowly explained to you, as if you were a small child, while placing your dress down on the bed. Shaking his head, he grabbed your upper arm and pulled you to stand up. 

“What the hell are you doing, Coriolanus?!” You shrieked, pulling away from him as he started to untie your hospital gown. 

Grabbing you roughly by the upper arms and turning you to look at him, he stared down at you with cold, icy eyes. “I'm tired and want to go home and get some sleep. You will be a good girl and let me help you change.” 

You tried to break his hold while assuring him, “I can get changed myself. You can go wait in the hall, Coriolanus.”

“No, my darling rose, you can't. Now, be a good girl and let me help you so we can get out of here.” He told you in a tone that was sickeningly sweet.

“Corio-” You began to protest, only for him to slap you across the face. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as your hand automatically flew up to cradle your stinging cheek.

“I told you to be a good girl and let me help you, Y/N.” He sighed. 

“You hit me…” You trailed off in shock as tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Oh, my darling rose, I didn't mean to hurt you.” The pretty platinum blonde man cooed while prying your hand away from the cheek that he’d struck in his frustrated anger. His blue eyes raked over your cheek, which was raw and red from the slap. Seeing your tears rolling hotly down your cheeks turned him on, as horrible as that sounded. Brushing his knuckles along your puffy cheekbone, that would surely bruise within an hour or so, he softly said, “I don't like brats and backtalk, Y/N. If only you were a good girl then I wouldn't have slapped you.”

His words left your mind going a mile a minute. So, wait, it was your fault he slapped you? All because you didn't want his help changing? That didn't make sense. Should it make sense?

You were drawn out of your mental musings whenever you felt Coriolanus’ tongue lap up the tears along your cheek. Your breath hitched at the action. Your felt a tightness in your chest and a fluttering in your lower belly as he tilted your face to lick the tears of your untouched cheek. 

As his tongue traced your cheekbone, lapping up the salty tear stains on your skin, you felt a tingle in your core. Oh no. You can't have this reaction to him. It's wrong; he’s a married man and older than you. Hell, he's even older than your older brother.

Even though you knew being turned on by him was wrong, it didn't stop you from rubbing your thighs together.

When he pulled away from you, he gave you a lined smile and suggested, “Now that we have an understanding, let's get you in your pretty dress so we can go home.”

Your head was fuzzy with want and you had a slight ache in between your legs, so you were in no shape to protest or fight back. “Okay.” Your breath was shaky as you nodded. “Okay.”

“Seems like I have quite the effect on you, my darling rose.” Coriolanus smirked as his nose ran along your jawline. Your heartbeat was beating quickly, perhaps too quickly, while you felt heat pool in between your legs. Oh god, you've never felt like this before (yea, you've been turned on before, but not to the point where you felt uncomfortable and wanted to rip your hair out) and it both startled and excited you. 

He licked the shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “I must confess, Y/N, that you also have quite the effect on me.” He whispered into your ear before pulling away and leaving you to stare up at him with shock all over your face. “Don't look so shocked, my darling. You’re very beautiful and you're resilient; a victor.” 

Turning you around, he gently untied your hospital gown as if he was untying the bows to his favorite piece of lingerie. When he was done, he spun you around, nearly knocking you off balance and slid the gown off your shoulders. Your eyes darted to the floor as your breasts were exposed to him. You felt so small under his gaze and towering form as he slid the gown the rest of the way off you. 

“You have such nice tits.” Coriolanus smiled in awe, lust shining in his eyes, as he began to palm your nice tits.

“Coriolanus-” You started, only for him to cut you off with the request of, “Coryo, call me Coryo.”, as he began to run his thumbs over your nipples while cupping your tits in his large, calloused hands.

“Coryo, we can't do this here. We're in my hospital room.” You told him despite his actions causing you to get even wetter then you already were between your legs.

“It's a private room, my darling rose. I paid enough for it, so I don't see the harm in us getting my money's worth.”

What the hell did he mean by that? Did he seriously want to mess around in your hospital room? Oh no. No, no, no. No. You're drawing that line at that. 

Your hands wrapped around his wrist as you told him, “I just want to get out of here, Coryo. You promised to take me home, remember?”

You prayed that your words knocked some sense into him because you didn't want your first time doing sexual things to be in a hospital room, where a nurse could walk in at any time, with him (he was a married man for God's sakes!).

His demeanor deflated and he sighed, “Yes, my darling rose, I did promise you that didn't I?”, while pulling away from you. He grabbed your dress from the bed and motioned for you to lift up your hands.

“What about my underwear?” You asked, feeling a bit exposed as Coryo looked you up and down with a hungry glint in his eye. It was as if he was a starving man and you were a juicy steak ready to eat.

“You don't need them, darling. Once we get to our penthouse you'll be changing into a shirt to sleep in anyways.” He explained while motioning, once again, for you to lift your arms. This time you obeyed him and he pulled your best floral dress over your head. He smoothed it out, only to press a kiss to your forehead and smile. “You're all ready to go, my Victor.”

The car ride to the luxury penthouse seemed to take ages. You were alone with Coriolanus since he was driving and it made you feel a bit uncomfortable. After what happened in your hospital room (him stripping you and groping your boobs) you didn't think it was a good idea to be alone with him. He was married and you didn't want to lose your innocence, all of your firsts, your virginity to a man that would never be yours no matter the chemistry or effect you had on each other.

You were staring aimlessly out the window when Coryo startled you by placing a hand on your thigh. You didn't say a word, just sighed uncomfortably.

Looking over at you with a worried expression, Coriolanus asked, “What's wrong, Y/N? You seem troubled.”

Pulling your eyes off the window, you snapped your head to look at the platinum blonde in the driver's seat and honestly told him how you felt. “You shouldn't be resting your hand on my thigh, Coryo. You’re married.”

The gold ring on his finger mocked him as it shines against the red and cream floral fabric of your dress. He never had anyone turn him down because of that thin gold band he was branded with by saying ‘I do’ to Livia Cardew, well that is until now. Coriolanus knew that you were young and innocent from District 12 so the thought of being a mistress would horrify you. He knew that he had to ease your worries, so he simply told you, “Don't worry about my wife, darling. I’m taking care of everything; she won't be my wife much longer.”

“I wasn't aware ya’ll were having marriage problems. The Capitol gossip rags make it seem like the marriage is a happy one.”

“Things aren't always as they seem here in the Capitol, my darling rose.” He told you before correcting your grammar with a stern, “And it's I wasn't aware that you were having marital problems.” Patting you on the thigh as he switched lanes, he explained, “You're not in District 12 anymore and since you'll be staying here in the Capitol for a while it's best that you learn how to speak properly; like a Capitol citizen.”

You didn't say a word, just numbly nodded. You never thought that staying in the Capitol while Victor’s Village and your house was constructed meant changing how you talked. You never thought you talked strange, well until now. “Do I sound weird when I talk, Coryo?” You asked, staring at the side of his face as he drove.

“No.” He shook his head. “We just need to work on some small grammar errors here and there, but no, darling, you sound just fine when you talk.”

“Oh…” You trailed off, turning your attention back to looking out your window. 

He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “You're a rose that just needs some extra pruning and tender care, but fortunately for you I'm an excellent gardener that favors white roses.” His thumb grazed your thigh as he explained, “White roses are the perfect symbol of purity and perfection.” As he pulled up to a large building, his baritone heavily hung in the air with the meaningful words of, “Unblemished; untouched, just like you, my darling rose.”

But how long would you be Unblemished and untouched? Would he take your innocence as soon as you entered the penthouse or would he wait until he was free from his wife? The bigger question was did you even want him to take your innocence? To give you all of your first experiences with a man? Now that was the million dollar question you didn't have an answer for. Or maybe you did, but didn't want to acknowledge it.

AN: Did anyone catch the tv show easter egg I threw in there?

Tags: @kuroosbby001 , @purriteen , @poppyflower-22 , @meetmeatyourworst , @whipwhoops , @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> choi san x reader x jung wooyoung warning(s) -> abuse, mentions of physical health, cursing, etc. words -> 3K

abstract -> is readoption really a good idea...

y/n's perspective

I admit… I needed to get myself together. I should’ve when he broke up with me in the first place. Instead, I relied on working and even then I hit a brick wall. 

When I got San I had an idea for this novel. 

Hybrids who rebelled against society’s expectations. It made me think what if they fought to be equal without having to live like animals?

I was at another block, however… and even Wooyoung refused to see me again. 

So I was shocked when I heard from Kun that San wanted to speak with me. I was still looking for someone to take him but every look goes away when I say he was anything other than a green-coded hybrid.

He’s an exotic hybrid… and even then no one wanted to even meet him. 

Why? He’s such a pretty hybrid… I could only imagine how much more he would be if he was happy and healthy…

I soon heard the door open and I saw him. I knew he was a yellow code now but seeing him in a different uniform made me smile even if it was slightly. 

“Hello,” I said and he looked nervous. “Adopt Wooyoung,” he said. It threw me off… I’ve thought about it. Especially while being rejected by his owners.

With how I was recently I couldn’t take care of a hybrid after failing with San. “I don’t know if you know how he is… but he’s been in the medical wing for over a month now. He was happy when he smelled you on me when I first met him. Now… he’s like you” he said and I was confused. Like me?

“Lifeless eyes” he muttered. Was that how I looked? Wonyoung compared me to a zombie while Johnny said I look like the trauma patients he sees daily. Yuta even compared me to heartbroken teenagers wanting a tattoo for the first time. 

He, however, saw me as lifeless. Maybe that's the more accurate one…

“Please” he pleaded and I didn’t know if I could. “If it isn’t too much to ask…” He wandered… he looked nervous to ask me. 

“I want you to adopt me again too,” he said and I was shocked. He wanted me to adopt him again? “San, if you want to be home with Wooyoung, I'll look for someone to take you both–” even though I knew that would be near impossible “--I’ll make sure the two of you are together,” I said and he shook his head. 

“I want… I want you to make me happy” he said, bringing my broken promise again. “I don’t think I can–” “You can! Please” he pleaded and I saw how much healthier he looked. I knew his behavior was better. 

“San, I don’t want you to be unhappy in my home. You lasted two days… I don’t think I'm a good person to help–” “No one else ever will. I admit I don’t like humans… I don’t trust you. You did however try…” he said.

I looked at Renjun who was by the door. He smiled softly.  “Kun agrees,” he said and I sighed. I smiled softly. 

“Then, I'll make sure to change your mind, San. Not all humans are bad!” 

san's perspective

I wasn’t in favor of being domesticated… trusting someone who could very well end up killing me one day. It was better than living in a cage… or was it?

I’m basically leaving behind the metal bars for luxurious walls. 

I’ll truly be a pet now…

She smiled softly but her eyes showed anxiety. They shook slightly… it didn’t seem like she was scared of me. So what was she scared of?

We were now waiting for the fox to come out. She wouldn’t stop bouncing her leg as we waited in silence. Almost a suffocating silence. 

“y/n-nie!!” I heard a yell as we stood up and he ran up to her. Easily picked her up and swung her as he held her tight. She was surprised but laughed. She eased up in his arms. 

“I’m sorry they abandoned you, Woo,” she said as she rubbed his back and buried her face in his shoulders. His smile turned soft instead of an excited grin. 

“You’ll be better than them!” he exclaimed. 

“I’ll try my best,” she said and he chuckled. “You already are!” he said. These two were close… Why did I choose again to help the fox?

“Wooyoung, you’ve met San right?” she asked as he put her down and smiled at me. “He’s my new best friend!!” he said… I did not agree with that.

“Let’s go home,” she said. Home? I guess it was the closest I'll ever get.

We got back to the place. It was the same…

“Woah!! It's a big upgrade from your old place!!” Wooyoung said. “Mhmm! Oohh, you guys can have your own room. I know San wouldn’t feel comfortable maybe?” she suggested and we nodded. I did not want to share with the hyper fur ball. 

“I still don’t understand why they left you there,” she said and he smiled softly. “Well, they didn't… They left me at the Seoul Hybrid Adoption Center. I was too much for them to handle so they took me for treatment to the kennel” he said with his ears down. 

He was in the same place I was. 

“I did meet this doberman!! He was so cool, I kinda miss him. For sure he got adopted though!!” he yelled. Just how loud was he…

“y/n-nie!!” he said, grabbing her attention. “Are you any better?” he asked and she smiled softly. “I’m getting there,” she said. Better from what?

“Go get situated!  Oh, and San the bags are still in your room so you can choose anything you want. Wooyoung I’ll get you some more clothes soon” she said as she went to her room. 

“She got you clothes?” he asked and I nodded. “What did you mean by better?” I asked and he sighed. “She’s… a lonely kid,” he said sadly. 

Lonely?

“Her parents don’t really give her any attention. They just give her money to survive… She disappointed them by becoming a writer. I remember her sobs at the old apartment. She was just in high school and she lived by herself. She had no one to take care of her when she was sick or to come back with warm food. She could barely even cook herself” he said.

The trust fund kid was lonely…

I promised Wooyoung I'd make them happy. Y/n still didn't have my trust nor did he but I wanted to protect her.

“There was this really bad time she came back completely drenched in rain crying outside her door. She came back from school after her activities… Did you know she was a student council president? Ooh!! She was also the president of the yearbook in her class–" "You're getting distracted” I cut off. He really knew a lot about her and talked in admiration. 

“Oh… yeah. She came back and it was a heavy rain alert that day. She came back very late and luckily nothing bad happened to her. But she forgot her key inside and the services of the apartment were closed for how late it was. She cried so much the next day that her eyes were red and her cheeks puffy. My owner wasn't home so I talked to her. She didn't want my help but I helped break into her apartment and made her warm food.-- '' he said. I could see his worry.

“--she barely even kept food in her fridge. She had a huge fever that night so I stayed over to take care of her. When I told my owner they called her parents but they didn’t really care. They called her later scolding her for being careless with her health and not even her mother came to see her” he said and I felt a little bad. 

A kid in high school? She would’ve been young… she must've felt… abandoned.

“She would always go out with friends but come back only to cry. I could never understand it. She told me she felt lonely. She had no one despite having friends who took care of her. She would always lie to them.” he said and I sighed. 

“They had to have known,” I said and he nodded. “Her closest friends are Wonyoung, Chenle, and Shotaro. She has a lot of friends but… she never seems to ever be happy” he explained. 

I’ve heard of Shotaro… and I've seen Wonyoung. Who was Chenle?

“I didn’t know she knew Kun or any of them in the facility,” he explained. “She won’t feel lonely though!!” he exclaimed and I was curious about how things would play out. 

“Not with us around. You’ll also fulfill your promise!” he explained. I nodded as I followed him to the hall of our rooms. 

Someone who is left alone in their own thoughts… Was that someone who could be trusted?

What Wooyoung said didn’t make sense. She seemed happy… livelier around him. I did notice she had pathetic attempts at cooking, and she was busier recently. 

She didn’t seem lonely.

“Do you have to go out tonight?” Wooyoung asked her and she only smiled. “I do. Wonyoung has been restless recently. She’s having me go to this party tonight” she said and I almost scoffed at her excuse. 

Trust fund kid… yeah right, she wasn’t lonely. She was probably only bored. 

Probably get bored of me.

“You have San to keep you company okay?” she said and I realized how she was dressed. In a designer dress, jewelry is probably as expensive as a house.

“She’s really pretty” he muttered to himself as the elevator closed and she waved us goodbye. “Get a grip. She’s a human” I said and he sighed. “I know… but how can I help myself, when I've had this crush for years now?” he asked and I sighed. 

The fox was wrapped around her pinky…

“I’m gonna start cooking for us!” he said changing the subject. He started becoming the chef of the apartment which y/n allows. He even ordered groceries with recipes he wanted to try out. She’s even gotten him a collection of recipe books. 

I was going back to my room when I noticed her room was open. 

I decided to go inside… I never saw her room. It had a mountain of clothes on her bed and a bunch of shoes on the floor. 

What caught my attention was the bunch of papers… I picked one up. It was a story… I saw on the pile the title was ‘Circus’

“Get a grip, Kyong! Humans are nothing but monsters. They’ll only eventually hurt us. We need to escape this hell hole!” he yelled in desperation.  Young had enough of entertaining people whilst he got hurt, punished, berated, and so much more.  “But how? We would never survive out there Yong”  Kyong said as he tried to soothe the burning sensation on his arms from his punishment earlier.  “Then we’ll die trying. I think it's time hybrids created a revolution–

She was a writer. 

She was also human… not an experiment gone wrong decades ago to be made as a pet. 

Yet, how did she know how hybrids viewed humans? The inner desire to live freely but can’t because of survival.

I don’t how long I was here but I heard Wooyoung screaming my name.

I left her room bewildered and curious. 

“Foods ready!” He said and I smiled. “Hey, Wooyoung? You mentioned once she was a writer?” I asked and he nodded.

“She mentioned wanting to study journalism. I wonder if she did… I remember my old owners buying newspapers and I even saw her name! And then one day I saw her book on the shelves!!” He said proud, almost like her number one fan.

“I convinced them to get me her books… I only ever read two of them. One of them is about hybrids and humans hunting each other, the other is about a bunch of short stories in one book. Different stories on different news stories of abuse on hybrids” he said.

She wrote mainly on hybrids…

“She’s known as a hybrid activist,” he explained. “Then why would she adopt us? Wouldn’t that be out of her morality?” I asked confused and he shook his head.

“I asked her one day if she ever thought of adoption. She said yeah… but only if it were to help a hybrid out and if she was in a good position to care for one” he explained.

She did help me…

We ate as Wooyoung kept talking about y/n… he knew so much about her despite not seeing her for years. “Oh there was also this one time she… uhm San?” he asked and I waited for him to ask what he wanted. 

“Shouldn’t she already be back? It's pretty late” he said and I noticed it was dark out now. Where was she?

“Is she gonna be okay?” Wooyoung asked me but I didn’t know. At least an hour passed when we heard the elevator. “y/n!!” Wooyoung yelled hopefully.

It was a man with y/n on his shoulder. She was drunk…

“Hello… unfortunately y/n here is drunk,” he said and she giggled. “I’m not drunk!” she said, clearly drunk. 

“I’ll take her!” Wooyoung said and the guy almost looked reluctant. “Be careful with her okay? She’s had a long night” he said as he carefully placed her on Wooyoung’s back and I noticed she had a jacket around her waist covering her. 

Were they together? 

“Please take good care of her” he asked and we nodded as we walked to her room. “Why’d you take so long y/n?” Wooyoung asked and she hummed. “I already told you. My hybrids hate me… I doubt they’d want me back so soon” she muttered and Wooyoung and I shared a look. 

“What makes you think that?” he asked. 

“San, did I mention he was pretty? He almost looks like one of those hybrids you’ll see in modeling… maybe even those influencer stars. I… wanna find him a good home…” she said and I felt myself freeze… find me a home?

“What? But… What about me?” Wooyoung asked… “You said you couldn’t take care of hybrids… you’re always in your shop anyway to care for them, Yuta,” she said… she must've mistaken him for the guy who brought her here. 

“What about the fox?” I asked and he smiled softly. “He’s just like I remember… but I don’t think I can separate the two. Even as much as I missed Woo’s comfort” she said and I didn’t want to leave. 

“What if San doesn’t want to leave?” I asked and she sighed. “There's no way he wants to stay… he’s only there for Wooyoung. He forced himself to even greet me… he even flinches when I enter the room,” she said. 

“You should get some rest,” Wooyoung said and she nodded. “I’ll miss them…” she said as she curled up on her bed and we heard her change her breathing. 

“We should watch over her to make sure she’s okay,” Wooyoung said and I nodded.  “I don’t want to leave this place,” I said and he looked at me shocked. 

“Why are you surprised?” I asked and he shook his head. “It's just that… well you do immediately shift when she enters a room. You change your posture… you become almost submissive. It's like you're trying to be an obedient hybrid” he explained… 

“It just seems like you aren’t comfortable here…” he explained and I sighed. “I don’t think I've felt comfortable in years, Wooyoung,” I said and he sighed. 

“Do you think she’ll actually give us away?” he asked and I felt panicked at the thought.

“I really hope not” 

y/n's perspective

Waking up a hangover isn’t something anyone enjoys. 

“Oh! You’re awake!” Wooyoung said excited like he always does… I couldn’t be mad at his happiness. “Wooyoung try being a little more calm. Her head probably hurts” I heard San? 

“Ah, sorry. Here you should drink this” he said as he gave me a cup of what I assumed to be the hangover solution I keep in the kitchen. 

“I also have breakfast ready,” Wooyoung said and I nodded. “Let me get out of yesterday’s clothes,” I said and he nodded. 

I got out of the dress I was in and washed off the makeup I had on. I put on more comfortable clothes for the day.

I now find myself in the kitchen where I see my two hybrids waiting for me. “You shouldn’t get out so late like that. We were worried” Wooyoung said and I was shocked. 

They were worried for me? “Oh… I'm sorry” I apologized. 

“y/n?” San asked and I looked at him confused. “I wanna thank you for everything,” he said as he bowed. “What? San–” he soon even got down on his knees confusing me as to why he was suddenly doing this.

“I don’t remember the last time a human offered me the kindness you have. Please, just give me time to get used to this new lifestyle. I wanna give being a pet a chance” he said and I was confused as to what got in his head. 

“San you aren’t a pet to me,” I said and his ears twitched. “The both of you aren’t pets… I told you when I first adopted you. All I wanted is a companion” I said and he sat up to look up at me. 

“A companion?” he asked and I nodded. “A friend… I don’t expect anything in return. I promise” I said and he nodded. I soon felt a tight grip around me. I felt the familiar warmth that often comforted me years ago. 

“Please don’t get rid of us!” Wooyoung yelled and I petted his head. “I promise,” I said… maybe I mentioned what I was thinking yesterday. I looked at San who only stared… I stretched out a hand to him, silently telling him to join us. 

He hugged me and Wooyoung tightly as well. 

“I promised to make you happy… and I extend that to you too, Wooyoung”

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[strawbeerossi]

If You Leave Me

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After coming home, Spencer has nightmares of his wife leaving him after the weight of prison weighs on him after his release.

Content Warnings: Depression, mentions of problems with eating, nightmares, fear of abandonment, mention of parental abandonment, spoilers for the prison arc, mentions of blood and being beaten, anxiety, there’s a panic attack, general angst, light fluff towards the end

Word Count: 1.4K

Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request

'The Show' is so amazing, so I might make more based on each song on the album.

“Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.” John F Kennedy.

Spencer had faced change for his whole life. Between his father leaving him with no explanation when he was a child to his mother’s schizophrenia spiralling, he was the poster child for adapting to the plethora of things that life can throw at you and making the best of things.

Child abandonment coupled with a mother whose illness was worsening, there was a lot of pressure on him at a young age. Spencer wanted to take care of his mother, make sure she was safe and sound. He enjoyed lying with her and reading, spending his time with the woman who he cared for. He struggled with making many friends.

Not a lot of high schoolers want to be friends with a twelve-year-old child prodigy. He was the target of relentless bullying, his safest place being home where he could read in the comfort of his own bedroom.

Most children who had any form of trauma as a child turned out to be psychopaths, incapable of empathy and most who exhibited those symptoms were serial killers, he was quite the opposite. Spencer would say that he turned out alright. 

Three PHDs, being a supervisory special agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, as well as being a literal genius. He had a team of people who loved him dearly, a good amount of godchildren who he adored, as well as a beautiful wife who did so much for him.

When Spencer was imprisoned, his experience killed a piece of him. The once sweet, innocent Dr. Spencer Reid was now a man who was more prone to showing his complex emotions, his temperament changing. He wasn’t nearly as talkative, he was having a harder time processing things that used to take him mere seconds to understand. It was why they had placed him on a weird schedule; every one hundred days spent in the field would have thirty days off following behind. He thought it was the stupidest decision they made.

Despite all of his protests, nobody would hear him out. It brought on the thoughts of him being untrustworthy. After all, he did kill Nadie Ramos. He may have been under the influence of drugs but that didn’t excuse a damn thing. He killed her with his bare hands. 

That haunted him. The fact that he could be capable of madness, capable of murder. It didn’t help that soon after, he was producing a tampered batch of drugs that he was being forced to push within those four cement walls.

Everyone told him that it wasn’t his fault, that some people were pushed to dark acts in order to ensure their survival. After all, a federal agent in the general population sector was a huge target, someone who would have a lot of enemies. Too many enemies.

After his release, there came a plethora of emotions. Y/N was a saint, patient as could be and more loving than he ever could’ve hoped for. Even when he was dissociating into his mind to shield him from all too familiar territory, she was right there. It had gotten to a point where he severely depended on her, the attachment so strong that he would follow her around the house as if he were a kitten who needed constant attention. 

Dinner was hard, the man having to be reminded that he could take his time to eat and he had no risk of someone coming and taking it whether he allowed them to or not. There were nights where he wouldn’t take a packet of cookies from his wife, stressing over having to ‘pay her back’. It took a lot to break him out of that routine.

Don’t get him started on the nightmares. They were vivid, placing him back to the night when he was beaten in prison or to the day where Luis Delgado had his throat slit in front of him because of his own choices. It was like he could still feel the warmth of the crimson blood staining his hands in the failed attempt to stop the bleeding. 

In addition to nightmares that were filled with blood and violence, there was another recurring nightmare. One that killed him more than any sort of guilt of association ever could. It started out the same way every time, he would come in the house after a long winded case. There would be a lot of stress on his shoulders, a tightening in his chest because of the fact the case didn’t end the way the team had anticipated. He would then walk into the kitchen, where Y/N would be waiting for him. There was no sweet greeting, no kiss against his lips while she hugged him and cried about missing him. 

Instead there was a tense silence, the usually warm apartment freezing. She would turn to him, her eyes filled with exhaustion, no glimmer of love shining over them as they faced one another.

“I can’t do this anymore. You aren’t who you used to be, this time by myself has made me realize that I am much happier without you here. I don’t have to coddle you, treat you like a baby. I just can’t bring myself to love you anymore.” 

Spencer was waking up in a cold sweat, his body jolting upwards on the mattress while his other hand was quickly, yet cautiously reaching beside him to feel his wife’s shoulder. The touch had Y/N stirring awake, a gentle frown on her face. “Spencer?” Her voice was filled with drowsiness, her hands slowly pushing her to sit up on her knees while her free hand was leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. 

Any form of annoyance from drowsiness was wiped away when she noticed her husband’s state. His face was drenched in sweat, his chest was heaving from the impending anxiety attack, he was unable to talk as his body trembled. “Shh, hey.” Y/N whispered as she was shuffling closer, pulling back the duvet so she could carefully pull her husband into her arms. 

Her fingers were threading through the messy curls, a weak sigh leaving her lips as she could feel his arms tightly wrap around her torso, practically squeezing the life out of her.

“I’m here. It’s okay, baby, I promise. Luis dream again?” She asked softly, her lips pressing a kiss to the crown of his skull.

“You left.” His voice was hoarse, the tears joining in soaking his face the same way that the sweat had done over the course of the night. “Baby..” Y/N whispered while her fingers were lightly scratching over his scalp, her cheek resting against his head as she was being hugged tightly, as if she would disappear if Spencer let her go. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that.” Her words were dipped in that sweet assurance, her eyes slowly fluttering shut. 

Spencer faced enough people who abandoned him in his life with little to no explanation, she could never be added to that list. He spent three long and gruelling months in a maximum security prison for a murder that he was pushed into doing under the influence of a drug that Cat Adams and Lindsey Vaughn got their hands on. 

This wasn’t like he was a man who snapped and murdered an innocent woman because of deterioration of his sanity. He was absolutely nothing like the men and women he hunted down for his job, she tried to push that every time that she could. “You’re a good man, you know that. I would be a fool to leave you.” She said softly. 

As her body was eventually laying down against the mattress, she couldn’t help but smile once Spencer quickly followed her movements. Her legs were spreading in order to invite him between them, the male laying on top of her as his head was against her chest. “There we go..” She cooed softly, her fingers continuing to comb through the tousled curls. 

With his cheek now smashed against his wife’s chest, he listened to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. 

The drumbeat mixed his wife’s sweet words of assurance and the warmth of her love radiating against him was enough to have Spencer starting to drift off to sleep. 

How did he manage to get so lucky to have a woman who wouldn’t give up on him?

[apomaro-mellow]

I wanted to write church fucking again but it turned more into church love-making

Steve was long past caring if anyone heard them. The only thing on his mind was taking Eddie deeper and deeper. This place was built with Eddie's money anyway. And it wasn't really a building to practice any religion known to man. As Eddie had put it, the first and only thing being worshipped here was them and their love.

And to Steve there was honestly nothing more sacred.

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

"Do we really need to do the separation thing?", Eddie asked. He didn't whine. He definitely wasn't whining as Steve packed his bag.

"We're only doing like 5 traditional things for our wedding and this is one of them", Steve said, zipping up a duffel bag.

He gave Eddie a kiss on the lips, one that was too short considering he wouldn't even be seeing him for another twenty-four hours, let alone kiss him again. He chased after Steve's lips only to have his beloved pull back.

"You're going to make me late. Robin's already honked once", Steve said.

"Mmm, she can come up and rip you from my arms if she wants you so bad", Eddie said, pulling Steve into his hold and falling back against the bed.

"You know she will. And she'll have the spray bottle and everything", Steve warned, but doing nothing to stop Eddie from groping his behind.

Steve was able to break away before Robin got pushed to that point and leave to stay at her place until the wedding. Eddie let out a sigh that was equal parts dreamy and forlorn. He did his best to keep his mind off of not being around Steve and his friends had the ultimate bachelor party planned. But he couldn't help but think at times how much nicer it would be with his Stevie there.

"Technically we're both bachelors, so we could've had the same party", Eddie reasoned.

The others wouldn't hear it and kept him sufficiently busy until they all passed out around 3 am. At 5 am, Eddie woke up walked over to the church. He took out his key and unlocked the door. Inside was completely empty. But Eddie had saw to the renovations himself to make sure it was up to par.

He sat in the first pew and let out a sigh. In just a few hours, he and Steve would be standing in front of this altar, vowing themselves to each other. Eddie would have done it anywhere, the courthouse, a friend's backyard, their sacred bedroom. But Steve's upbringing wouldn't allow him anything less than a church. Thankfully, Eddie had enough 'fuck-you' money to find an abandoned one and have it built back up just for the two of them. And perhaps any other queer that wanted an unofficial ceremony.

Eddie himself rarely looked to Jesus for answers and was just about to ask what he was even doing here when the doors opened again. And who should walk through it but the answers to any question he ever had.

"Eddie? What are you doing here?"

"Awaiting salvation. And here you are", Eddie smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Searching for...well, for you, I guess", Steve said as he walked down the aisle and took a seat in the same pew as Eddie. But at a distance for polite friends and not two men who were getting married in a few hours and already knew each others bodies.

"Why are you all the way over there?", Eddie smirked. "You think we need a chaperone or something."

"I came to get a moment of peace and quiet before the storm today is going to be", Steve said. "And you are anything but peaceful and quiet."

"You just said you were searching for me?"

"I meant that sometimes searching for one thing can bring you another." Steve smiled as he shook his head a little, a memory coming back to him. "My mom always said 'when you ask God for patience, he doesn't give you patience. He gives you a situation where you need to be patient'."

"You sure your mom wasn't praying to a genie? Or a monkey's paw?"

"I'm just saying that I came to a church for peace and instead, I see my fiance."

Eddie scooted closer to Steve. "Sounds to me like His Mighty Heavenliness is throwing down a challenge. Can you be quiet around me Steve?"

Steve knew he couldn't. And Eddie knew he couldn't. Nor would his fiance's big ego even allow Steve to even attempt to be quiet. Eddie wouldn't stop until this place was filled with his echoes. But he held steady.

"There's not even a comfortable place to do it", he said.

To which, Eddie jumped up and went over to the altar, normally it would have a cloth draped over it, but when Eddie pressed down, there was a bit of give, like it was cushioned. Steve didn't even have the presence of mind to ask why because Eddie was already palming himself through his pants, beckoning Steve over with a finger.

Let it be known that marriage didn't stop Steve from being a slut. It was just reserved for his groom-to-be.

So he loved on Eddie and let Eddie love on him, in an embrace that felt more rapturous than any praise he'd given in a church. This was what ecstasy was. Steve knew deep in his soul that he was born for this, to share this with Eddie.

Hours later, dressed to the nines and promising themselves to each other in front of an audience, Steve couldn't stop thinking about his body draped over the altar. Eddie had said more than once that he worshipped Steve's body but the same was true for him. When Eddie slipped the ring onto his finger and kissed him, Steve felt like he was being smiled on by Heaven.

A man like this loving and promising eternity, how could be anything less than a blessing?

[aviradasa]

Love long lost pt 4

Aaravos x reader

[Requests are open]

{Angst} Warning: blood,murder,kidnapping,possession,stalking,strong language

This chapter is pretty short cause I'm getting back into writing, so please be patient. I'm trying my best 😭 still. I hope you enjoy 🖤

@delusional-mushroom @imsimping4life @jellyfishxxi @hubba-hubba1 @tired-of-life-86 @delicioussnakeinme

Masterlist

Part one

Part two

Part three

" Years ago, when we found that Aaravos had been stabbing each and every one of us in the back for centuries, and we connected the dots between the disappearance of the late dragon queen and the supposed murder of the late sunfire elf queen, we, of course, all decided we must take action. So when a little bard came to us with months' worth of evidence that one of his performers was engaging in secret relations with Aaravos, we all were inspired with the same idea." Zubeia begins with an odd glint in her eyes.

I sit down on top of the larger stones in the cave, giving the dragon queen my full attention as she speaks. I'm thinking about the many possibilities that could come of this story. ultimately knowing they all end in grief and sorrow.

" After being confided in by the bard, the arch dragons, accompanied by the jailor, all collectively agreed that the only way to be able to imprison Aaravos was to get him to believe that he was successfully protecting Someone he cared for. As some know, He failed at protecting his daughter centuries before, and our best move at the time was to weaponize the trauma of it. By using you." She admits looking down at me.

"What?! That's horrible. What happened to his daughter?" You ask with a surprised look you didn't expect to hear that from her.

"She was killed in the name of cosmic justice for giving humans magic years before my time. Back when the sun King still was just a prince."She explains."After that, 100 years passed, and Aaravos began his plan."

You couldn't believe that. He lost his child, and they used that against him? It's horrible.

" How could you all use that against somebody? I get the need for imprisonment, but come on, that's just horrible." I say, shaking my head in shame. Knowing that somewhere in this story, I agreed to participate.

"We saw no other choice at the moment. You must understand. But back to the story. So you were brought to us by an earth dragon. You were unconscious, sick, and wounded. Just like we needed. The mob you saw was our creation. The bard wanted to be caught so that he could get the people with him. Be authentic. He also knew you were unaware of the two queen's disappearances at his hand, so we knew the confusion would cloud your judgment." She pauses before continuing

" We kept you at the storm spire. And once you were back to your senses. We told you that Aaravos had abandoned you and disappeared to escape prosecution. We told you he had killed the queens for power and that we needed your help. You agreed but started getting suspicious. You were well within your right to have been, as we did not plan to save you as we promised. We gave you to the townspeople under the claim of witchcraft and your relationship with Aaravos. And you were taken to the stake as the other startouched elves came to help and watch with the people. As soon as the flame was set under you, he arrived, and we trapped him. But you. We left to burn." Zubeia explains with a sigh as I sit in shock.

Excuse me. I'm getting told that I was manipulated into getting burned at the stake. For what? I think before Zubeia speaks again

" You know I do regret it. Knowing you in this life, I see that you meant no harm. But we couldn't take any chances we thought you would try to free him."

I wanted to scream at her. But when I went to, no words came out, so I stopped. Frozen for a moment before I can choke something out.

"Thank you, my Queen, for telling me, but I need a moment. Please." I say excusing myself from the room. I can't think clearly with her there. After what I know now. I can't bring myself to even look her in the eye anymore as I leave. As I am making my way through the storm spire, I get some confused looks from Callum and Rayla, but I just keep moving. I have to.

I make my way to the top of the mountain. sitting on the edge with my head in my hands, lost in thought.

It was wrong what they did. But I don't know who to be mad at. Yes, the arch dragons killed me, but Aaravos killed so many and ruined lives. he came to save me, and he just sounds like he did most of it to Avenge, his daughter. When it comes down to it, I can't help but think.

As the sun starts to set, ezren comes up to see me he tells me that they are all leaving to grab food for the night and I should join them. But I can't. I'm not hungry. I need answers. Zubeia is hiding something I can sense it.

Ezren notices something is wrong, but before he can ask if I'm okay, he is called to leave, and as I see them all leave with Zubeia and Zym, I know who I need to speak to.

I march down the steps of the storm spire and into the main room with the remains of a broken mirror. Waiting for the sun to set completely. Once it does, I pick up the shards of glass and place them one by one back in place, and before I know it, I see that glow again, and Aaravos stands before me with a sick grin.

" I know everything, I think." I start unsure of how to go about this.

"I need to know the truth. The dragon queen is hiding something, and I need you to tell me right now!" I say in a strict tone. While Aaravos continues to stare with a cheeky shrug.

" Why won't you speak? I need you to work with me here!" I semi-shout. This is getting frustrating, and the taunting is not helping.

This goes on for a while before I start to pace back and forth, trying to find a way. Before I come up with anything, though, I see him tap the glass.

U couldn't hear it, though.

God damnit I can't fucking talk to him cause I can't hear anything on his side.

"FUCK. THAT'S WHY I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" I shout, running up to the mirror and grabbing it frantically. "There has to be something! Your magic, right? You possessed Callum. What do you need?"

Aaravos laughs at you behind the glass, summoning a paper you step back as you wait for him to write.

' A sacrifice'

Oh.well, that makes it interesting.

I pause trying to think. It's just possession. It's not like I would have to kill them. I would get the answers that I need as well. I look up at Aaravos, still looking smug. He knows. He can see how curiosity eats at my soul. He can see the anger I carry after learning the truth. Oh God, what am I going to do.

I wait atop the roof of a small house deep in the woods. A hunter lives here alone. perfect, it'd almost be too easy. I sneak into the open window and creep silently through the rafters stalking the man through his house.

And once he turns his back, he's mine.

Blood trickles down the man's head as I drag him. I hit him on the head pretty hard. His limp body is heavy to carry, so I decided to make it easy. I stop and take the man back to his house, tying him up and blindfolding m h him. After getting rid of anything, he could escape with me gagging him and head back to the storm spire to get the mirror

Hours pass, and finally, the mirror is where I need it. I put the glass back in and take to covering all the doors, windows, and openings with whatever I can find. The sun has started to peak, so when the last blanket is nailed to the windowframe, I sigh in relief.

Once I see the mirrors glow once again, I run over, untying my sacrifice and dragging him in front of it. Before dropping his unconscious body to the ground

"I got your sacrifice. Now speak. What happened. Truly."

And he did. With a wave of his hand, the man's body twitched and cracked, and he stood before me, removing his blindfold and gag with a laugh. "I knew you would get too curious. You always were. It was the one thing I loved about you the most."

[scientia-rex]

I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.

I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.

It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.

I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.

Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.

[hereforreadandwrite]

Abandoned Part 2

Masterlist

Your mother always knew what was best for you.

She always saw through the intentions of others, warning you against people who were malicious or who simply wanted to take advantage of you, and she encouraged you to go towards those she liked. When you told him about Kratos and he came to give you your wedding ring. Your mother disapproved of him as soon as he walked through the door, but you were too in love to actually listen.

Your mother knew better, you wish you would have listened to her and stayed away, but no. You listened to your heart and went with Kratos, becoming his "wife."

Why did you think he loved you?

“One way or another, something is going to go wrong,” she said. "He's only here because you're young and he's lonely. As soon as he finds a woman he's interested in, he won't stay. All he does is lie and fool you 'illusion. A man like him has an ego. You deserve much more (Y/N)."

Your mother tried to protect you from this pain, but you didn't listen to her. You were so happy that a man like Kratos was interested in you.

You left your mother.

You left your loving home for a man who didn't care about you.

Now you stood in front of your childhood home. You were terrified of facing your mother. You were sure and certain that she wouldn't want you anymore, especially when you told her that you were pregnant. Speki and Svanna moaned beside you, licking your hands. You smile at the wolves, finally gathering your courage to go and knock on the door. When the door opened, your courage melted like snow in the sun. Your mother looked at you in surprise. You jabbered incomprehensible words. To your surprise, your mother hugged you.

“I missed you so much,” she said, hugging you.

You cried with all the tears in your body, of relief, of anger, of sorrow. It was probably the hormones that were causing you to have this whirlwind of emotions, but you were happy to be back home.

Your mother allowed you and the two she-wolves to go inside. You explained to her what had happened and why you were back home. Your mother had listened to you patiently without interrupting you or judging you. When you told her about your pregnancy, she hugged you, reassuring you, saying that she would do everything to help you with your child.

A weight lifted from your shoulders.

You finally felt welcome and loved.

Your mother also loved Speki and Svanna.

She has always loved animals.

Your pregnancy was going wonderfully. Your belly grew bigger day after day. Six moons had just passed and in all that time, Kratos never came. You would have thought he would have come, at least to pick up Speki and Svanna, but no. He probably never bothered to look for you. Had he even returned? It wouldn't surprise you if that wasn't the case.

Even during Ragnarok, Kratos was always out of the house.

At first, you understood that he had to train Atreus and hunt. There were times when you were alone for days at a time, taking care of Fenri when he was sick. When Kratos came home, he barely spoke to you. He preferred to take care of his weapons and other tasks. Whenever you tried to approach him, he pushed you away.

The only reasons that kept you going were Mimir and Atreus. The two had welcomed you into the home with open arms. Then Atreus left. Mimir was still with Kratos.

You have always been alone.

“I’m sorry mother,” you say, stroking your belly.

“Why are you apologizing?” your mother asked, looking at you perplexed.

"Because... I didn't listen to you... and I left with this man who never cared about me. I was stupid."

"Child. You're not stupid," she said, leaving her work to come and sit next to you. "You were in love. How could I blame you for that? I also had this bad judgment when I fell in love with the man I dreamed of spending the rest of my life with."

“Were you in love before you met father?”

"Yes, I found this man kind and caring. But... he loved me just for my beauty. He didn't hesitate to dump me when he found a more beautiful woman. Then I met your father. He helped me. He consoled me and I agreed to marry him. And before he died, he gave me the greatest gift. You."

You would never have believed your mother had the same experience. That was why he was so harsh towards Kratos. You hugged your mother, crying your eyes out. Your mother always knew what was best for you.

Why did you think Kratos loved you?

He who said he hated the Gods. He was worse than Odin.

Three new moons passed, the baby was ready to come into the world. The day he was born had become the longest day you had to live. The pain that tore through your stomach was horrible. You screamed, cried, begged your mother for this pain to finally stop. Your mother helped you as best she could, telling you to take deep breaths and push. The pain will stop when the baby is out. Speki and Svanna squealed as they heard you scream in pure pain.

Your mother couldn't help but be worried. The birth was long. Too long even. The baby should already be out. But it wasn't just that. You were bleeding profusely. She tried to stop the bleeding, without success. It didn't bode well. After one last painful push, your child finally came out of your body, finally coming into the world. Her tears invaded the little cabin. Strangely, your mother was silent, staring at the horrified child.

"How...what is that?"

"Mother... my baby..."

Your mother showed you your child. You understood why she was so horrified when she saw the baby, her left side was perfectly formed, but her right side was devoid of skin, revealing her muscles and bones as black as darkness.

“It’s a girl,” you said under your breath.

“(Y/N)…”

“She’s perfect,” you said, sobbing and hugging your daughter to your chest. “My daugther... you are the best thing that ever happened to me!!”

Your mother looked at you without knowing what to think about this situation. This child should be dead. It was impossible for her to survive with such a deformation. She was brought out of her thoughts by feeling a warm liquid spilling onto her knees. Her gaze rested on the bed. The furs were soaked with your blood. The bleeding had become more severe. Your mother tried to stop the bleeding as best she could, but her attempts were in vain.

“(Y/N)!”

Your mother's throat tightened as she noticed that you had just taken your last breath, holding your daughter to your chest.

“No…,” she whispered, shaking you. "(Y/N)! No! Daugther! Open your eyes!"

From outside the cabin, anyone could hear Speki, Svanna, the baby and your mother crying over your death.

It was only at sunrise that your mother had the courage to prepare your pyre. She wrapped the baby in thick furs, placing her granddaughter in a basket. She placed the basket on the table as she went outside to take from her supply of logs. You were never going to be able to see your child grow up, become a woman. You were never going to be able to know all his joys and sorrows. You should never have left first. You should never have died this way. You didn't have time to give your daughter a name. She was going to have to decide for you. It wasn't her role to name your daughter and raise her.

The sun was now high in the sky when your mother placed your body on your pyre and set it on fire. She will be your daughter in her arms, watching your body turn to ash.

How could things have gotten so bad for you?

Why were the Gods so cruel to you?

But now you could finally be at peace. Your mother looked intently at your daughter, her granddaughter.

Neither alive nor dead.

Your mother didn't know how that was possible, but the facts were before her. The night had passed and the child was perfectly well. She slept peacefully in her arms.

"We need to find a name for you, little one. What do you think of Hel? This name suits you perfectly."

Your mother went back inside her house. The Gods have truly been cruel to you. Your mother knew she couldn't allow your daughter to see the outside world. Your mother placed Hel in her basket to close the windows and the front door. Your mother knew she had to hide her granddaughter from the outside world. Other mortals were not going to welcome a different child with open arms.

Your mother didn't know how to protect you as she wanted to do.

She was going to protect Hel as best she could.

tag: @pookiesnatcher

[orions-choker]

Animals (Werewolf! James Hetfield x Reader Fluff)

Werewolf! James Hetfield, Fluff, Domestic moments.

Word Count: 3,770

Reader works at a vet clinic, just when she's sure she has seen it all come through those doors she's met with the oddest looking wolf she's ever seen. (Cross posted to AO3)

This is a very quick and probably not fantastic Werewolf James fluff. I just had this silly idea in my head and wanted to write it down quickly so apologies this isn't the best thing I've ever written <3

Being a veterinarian in a rural town meant one saw a lot of odd things. Coming through those doors were sometimes wild deer, cows, hawks, owls, you name it. However Y/N had never treated a wolf before, let alone a wolf quite so big.

“How did you say you found this guy?” She asked, concern in her voice as she pet across the animals side gently, simultaneously soothing the creature and searching for any egregious wounds hidden in the thick fur. It was breathing shallowly, hardly conscious as it lay across her cold examining table.

The old farmer standing in the room with her shrugged, the smell of his chewing tobacco fragrant in the air as his teeth clacked together. “Laying in the ditch just down the road ere’” His twang was a little thicker than her own, though she understood him easily enough. “Seemed pretty beat up. unno’ I figured I should bring him in.”

She nodded slowly, leaning over to pry the beast's eyes open gently, she watched as the pupils slowly followed her movements, a good sign. Aside from that she noticed its eyes were strikingly blue, captivating in an odd way. “Thank’s Kenny, we’ll take care of him from here, get home it's getting late.” She dismissed him kindly. Y/N stood up, turning her back to the table to grab IV supplies.

Kenny, the farmer, grunted in acknowledgment, shutting the door to the examination room behind him. The heavy thud of his boots grew distant until she could no longer hear them. She turned around, holding the small needle attached to the drip bag in her hands. “C’mon boy, let's get you feeling better.” She smiled sweetly.

It was some hours later that Y/N had found the cause, luckily no serious wounds but a fractured leg and some slight malnutrition. Poor guy looked like he had been abandoned by his pack. With the bandage wrapped around the offending leg she pulled the wheeling bed outside. It took three members of staff to gently move the sedated wolf into one of their outside kennels for wild animals.

Y/N grunted as she clicked the gate close, pulling on the lock. “We’ll keep an eye on him for a bit, maybe get in touch with a rehabilitation center.” She huffed out to one of her techs. Dusting her hands off on her scrubs. “Odd looking wolf though don't you think?” She asked, looking over the hulking mass of dusty blonde fur.

“Yeah, maybe it's part albino?” Her vet tech supplied with a shrug, following after her into the building once more.

By the time she had finished cleaning up and completing the necessary paperwork it was near midnight. Y/N had long since sent the rest of the staff home, assuring them she could close up here by herself. She decided to do one last set of rounds, checking on all the current patients she had, her final stop being the wolf. To her surprise he was awake.

“Hey buddy, how are you feeling?” She asked sweetly, crouching down in front of the cage he was sitting in. The wolf eyed her curiously, unmoving from the spot it lay in, on top of a soft but old and worn blanket. “Still a little dazed huh? I’ll be back tomorrow okay?” She smiled with a tilt of her head. Its blue eyes followed her movements as she got back up to her feet, slowly turning and walking away.

Y/N couldn’t help but think of the creature all night, a mixture of curiosity and concern for its well being. Truly nothing could have prepared her for a wolf that big, despite the clear signs of undereating, she shuddered to think what it looked like when properly taken care of. She likened it to something like a fictional dire wolf.

In her dreams were those blue eyes watching her, and a boy, her age with wild blonde hair. Prophetic dreams weren’t her strong suit so by the time the sun crested the hills and woke her with its gently warm rays, she had forgotten about it.

The wolf was her first stop that day, a hunk of raw meat in her hands as she approached the enclosure. She noticed the way its large ears perked up, its nose high in the sky as it sniffed out the blood in the air. A good sign, it was still interested in eating.

“Hey boy.” She sang, stepping towards the metal bars. “How are you doing this morning, hungry?” She asked, holding the meat out between the bars with a pair of tongs. “Think you can try walking over here?” She hoped to gauge how bad the injured leg was.

It seemed annoyed? Giving her an almost comical side eye and pathetic snarl before slowly raising itself up. The steps it took towards her were slow, but unwavering, no wobbles or winces of pain. “That's a good boy.” She praised him gently. It prodded at the meat gently with its nose before opening its large jaws and snapping at the food.

The entire chunk was gone in a matter of seconds, the wolf devouring it like it hadn’t eaten in months. Y/N frowned. “You poor thing, there's more where that came from kay?” She watched with curious eyes as it licked at its lips, seemingly satisfied. Slowly it pressed its face to the bars, eyes wide and pitiful as it looked up at her.

Y/N was almost convinced, just for a moment, that this predator was nothing more than a big puppy. “Aww buddy, I can’t give you pets, you'll bite my hand off.” She shook her head at him. It whined at her slowly, as if it could understand the words she was saying. She frowned, looking down to the ground, spotting a stick laying by her feet.

Quickly she picked it up, reaching forward with it to scratch gently between the wolf's large ears. “That's the best I can do dude.” She chuckled, watching the way its tail thumped against the ground happily. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit, keep yourself entertained.” She tossed the stick into the enclosure, the wolf's jaws snapping around it in an impressive catch. She stared in bewilderment before shaking her head and walking away.

“Do you think there's any chance in hell that this thing is some kind of wolf dog?” Y/N asked her team as she entered the building. “I might be going crazy but it seems domesticated.” She frowned, sitting down at her desk chair.

One of the fellow vets stared at her like she had grown a second head. “I've seen wolf dogs before, they’re smaller than a normal wolf, not bigger than them.” He said, placing a cup of coffee down in front of Y/N. “That thing is not domesticated I can promise you that, please dont get any funny ideas and try to cuddle the fucking thing.”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at that, taking a sip of the warm drink as she leaned forward. “I have a couple more brain cells than that, but seriously it seemed like it wanted pets and to play fetch?” She frowned, placing her elbows on the desk before her. “I wonder if some crazy person tried domesticating a pup and left it in the wild when they realized it wasn’t going to work.”

“Hmm possible I guess, but I think you’re just reading too much into it.”

He was probably right. Y/N sighed and shook her head. The rest of her day was terribly uneventful, which she supposed was good, less hurt animals was always a good thing. Still she couldn't shake the feeling of boredom. She had no excuse for staying late tonight but she did anyway.

Bidding farewell to the last receptionist she closed the door, turning the deadbolt before making her way to the back door that led out to the yard. The other enclosures were empty save for the final one at the end. Flashlight in hand she approached once more with an offering to the beast.

“You awake boy?” She called out as she rounded the corner. As she laid eyes upon the contents of the cage her flashlight and tongs clattered to the ground. The beam of the light still illuminated the inside and like a spotlight drew the attention to the boy that sat there. Naked, a loose bandage falling from his leg. Messy blonde locks and piercing blue eyes. “What the fuck.” She mumbled.

There was a sheepish smile on his face as he sat there, staring up at Y/N. His legs were crossed, hands placed to hide his more intimate parts. “Sorry, I can explain.” His voice was raspy, gruff but a little boyish. The next startling thing aside from this man suddenly sitting before her, was the fact this man also had a large set of protruding wolf's ears atop his head, and a huge tail that thumped against the ground just as the beast here before had.

Y/N was truly at a loss for words, standing frozen before the scene unfolding. “What. The. Fuck.” She finally managed to force out, taking a hesitant step backwards. Her eyes scanned over the enclosure for any signs of the animal she had come out here to see in the first place. “Who are you? How did you get in there?” She sputtered out. “I’m James.” He helpfully informed her, his ears laid flat against his head as he heard the panic in his voice. “You put me in here.” He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Ahh man, how do you explain lycanthropy to someone.”

She blinked hard, was that supposed to be a joke? She scoffed “I know perfectly well about fucking werewolves.” her eyebrows furrowing. As much as she wanted to assume this was some horrible practical joke her staff was playing on her, she couldn’t deny the literal dog-like features he held. “Are you seriously telling me I was treating a werewolf and now I have a whole man locked up in the back of my vets office?”

The boy, James, that was his name. James' awkward smile returned. ‘Yeah I guess that's the gist of it.” A shiver ran over his bare body. “Hey you wouldn’t happen to have some clothes or something? It's kind of cold out here.”

Which is how she ended up with a half naked boy, wrapped up in a thick blanket in the passenger seat of her beat up 1980 Chevette. The hum of the radio being the only sound filling the tense car. “I think I have my dads old clothes in storage.” Y/N mumbled, eyes trained on the road ahead, hands stiff on the steering wheel.

James hummed awkwardly in acknowledgment. “Thank you again.” He drummed his fingers against the fabric of the blanket covering his thighs. She could see him staring at her from the corner of her eyes. His big blue puppy dog eyes seemingly admiring her like she was a hero.

Pulling into her garage Y/N shut the car off quickly. Waiting until the door shut behind them before opening the car door. She didn’t need any of her neighbors seeing her bring a strange naked dog boy back home. “You can come inside.” She mumbled awkwardly, pushing open the door that led into the main section of her home.

She didn’t need to tell him that, James had already been following her closely. Right on her heels. His blanket dragged behind him as he shuffled into the house.She frowned at him. “You know I think you could stand to have a shower too.” She could see the blanket moving wildly as his tail began wagging once more. “Over here,” She sighed.

Y/N gestured to the door leading to her bathroom. She shoved James inside gently, grabbing a towel from her linen closet. “Come out when you're done I should hopefully have some clothes for you.” She pushed the towel into his hands, ignoring the blush that rose to her cheeks as he smiled widely at her.

Quickly she backed out of the room as he began to drop the blanket covering him, pulling the door shut with a loud slam. Her chest heaved as she attempted to calm down her erratic breathing. While he had seemed like a well domesticated dog he certainly wasn’t a house trained human. Or maybe he was just like that.

The sound of the water heater humming to life and water pattering against the tile was her cue to find James some real clothes. She rummaged around in the back of her closet until she found something that looked approximately the right size. James was tall, big but lean just like the wolf had been, so she opted for some shorts over jeans and a plain loose fitting t-shirt. This would have to do for now.

Collecting the clothes in her arms she shuffled back into her living room, tossing them unceremoniously onto her couch. The sound of running water still echoed distantly down the hall so she took the moment to sit and contemplate.

She had treated a wolf, put the wolf outside, came back a day later to find a man there instead, and then brought the man home with her. The more she replayed the events in her mind the more it seemed completely unfathomable. She sat there, head hung low, hands tugging at her hair as she tried to rationalize it.

The house fell silent as the shower shut off. Her eyes drifted upwards at the sound of wet footsteps padded down the hall towards her. James rounded the corner, towel hung low around his waist, droplets of water running from his soaked hair down his lean chest and abdomen. Fuck, he was hot too wasn’t he. Y/N audibly groaned, tossing her head back against the couch.

“You okay?” He asked cautiously, walking forward to grab the pile of clothes from beside her. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut as James dropped the towel from his waist without a second thought. She waited until she no longer heard the ruffling of clothes before opening them again. The shorts were a little too short on him but otherwise everything fit just fine. “Y/N?”

“How do you know my name?” She asked curiously, she was positive she had not given him the courtesy of her name when they had their first introductions. She watched him as he moved to sit next to her on the couch, he grabbed the towel, using it to roughly dry his hair. Noticeably his ears and tail seemed to be gone now. “What's with the whole; wolf, half wolf half man, full man, thing you have going on?”

James smiled at her, yeah, yeah he was really cute. “It was on your nametag the other day.” He explained. He leaned back, body relaxing into the soft cushions on the couch. “Also that much is a little hard to explain, It’s just what my body does, you wouldn't try to explain the process of blood pumping in your veins to someone.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “That's hardly a good analogy.” She complained. She liked hard concrete answers, not wishy-washy bullshit. “It doesn't matter they don't train you for this thing in vet school.” She pulled her legs up onto the couch, resting her head atop her knees as she looked towards him. “Explain what led you here, why were you injured on the side of the road, why haven't you been eating?”

There was a hesitation in his eyes, silence following for a long moment. Gulping hard the blond finally spoke. “I got kicked out by my dad a couple years ago while I was still a teenager, I was couch surfing for awhile but I figured I needed to start fresh.” He seemed tense as he spoke. “Easier to cross the country on four legs rather than two, accidentally encroached on some guy's territory and got my shit kicked in, it had been a few weeks since I ate properly after that.”

“Are you hungry then?” Y/N asked sympathetically, feeling it wasn't her place to pry into the details of that story. She stood up from the couch, moving to the kitchen. James followed her closely, she didn’t comment on it. “Want some cold leftover pizza?” She hummed, throwing the door to her fridge open and rummaging around.

James peaked down at her from over the open door, excitement in his eyes as he nodded enthusiastically. “Thank you.” He eagerly took the pizza box from her hands, ripping it open to shovel the remaining slices into his mouth. “God Y/N, you’re the best.”

She couldn’t help the blush that stained her skin. She wasn’t sure what came over her next as she spoke. “Need a place to crash for a couple days?” The offer was out before she could take it back. Though at the way his eyes brightened, looking towards her, she was glad she offered.

“Are you really cool with that?” He asked around a mouthful of pizza.

Y/N sighed, defeated. “What can I say, I like helping out injured animals.” She joked lightly. Her heart fluttered at the way James cracked a smile at her. “I hope you don’t shed.”

–

A few days turned into a few weeks, weeks to a month. Truthfully she wasn’t keeping track anymore. She hated to admit it but she was lonely. Coming home each day to someone so eager to see her was definitely improving her overall quality of life.

James waited around eagerly for her every day, lounging across her sofa, usually half clothed. His presence in her home came in the form of old skate shoes by the front door, a guitar hanging above her bed, his dirty jeans and shirts piled in the corner of the bathroom each day. It felt more lived in.

“James!” She called out. She could hear the distant chattering of the t.v in the living room, a clattering of dishes alerting her to his location. She shuffled into the kitchen, body slumped over in exhaustion.

He eyed her worriedly as she came into view, quickly placing his plate down against the counter and coming to place a hand on her shoulder. “Long day?” He asked gruffly. A frown situated itself on his face.

Y/N nodded, leaning her head against his chest. “That's an understatement.” She groaned. “I think I might be in need of some doggy cuddles.” She looked up at him with pleading eyes. This had become a routine for them now, she had not only gained a roommate, but also a big fluffy pet to ease her sorrows on the worst of days.

Beneath her she could feel James’s body stiffen lightly, the hand he had placed on her shoulder gripping tighter. Curiously she peered up at him, their eyes meeting and she could feel the anxiety pouring from him. “Can I just…give you regular cuddles today?” He asked slowly, like the question would burn him if he spit it out too fast.

That was a boundary that hadn’t been crossed before. Not to say she hadn’t thought of it, truly she didn’t really know what the difference would be. She was lying next to him no matter what. Still she could feel the amount of courage it took for him to ask. Her eyes twinkled and she nodded softly. “Yeah that works too.” She grabbed his large hand within her own, and pulled him behind her to the bedroom.

James had taken up residence on her couch but that didn’t mean he hadn’t become well acquainted with her room. It was one of his favorite places to nap, completely overwhelmed by her scent and enveloped in the warmth of her trinkets and decorations. Of course he was always invited onto the bed when he chose to present as his wolf.

Y/N rolled onto the bed, letting out a comforted sigh. James enthusiastically crawled beside her. Their bodies gravitated towards each other like magnets, Y/N settling into the comforting embrace of his strong arms. He was big enough to fully envelop her with his body. She felt safe and hidden from the world like this.

“Thank you.” She rolled over, her back to his chest as she nestled her head against his arm using it as a pillow. “We lost some patients today.” Her voice wavered as she recounted the events of the day to James. “I just wanted to come home and cry.”

Her body was pulled back, bringing her tighter against James’s strong chest. His nose pressed to the top of her head. “M’sorry.” He soothed her gently rubbing her arms. “You can cry if you want to.” He assured her.

Y/N shook her head gently, taking in a deep shaky breath before speaking. “No, I think I’m okay now.” She tilted her head back to catch a glimpse of his face. Her hand reaching up, fingers gently tracing over the scarring across his cheeks. She thought it was cute, but she knew he didn’t feel the same. “Funny just being around you seems to make me feel better.”

Leaning into her touch, He smiled down at her. “Aren't you glad you saved me.” He joked lightly. Though it was true, he wasn’t sure he would have had the will to go on much longer had he not been brought into Y/N’s clinic.

“Every day.” She returned the smile. Her words filled with a sincerity that James wasn’t used to. His hair stood on end as an unfamiliar feeling swirled in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly Y/N yawned, her body straightening out as she stretched her limbs. “I think it's nap time.” She mumbled. Dropping her head back down she closed her eyes. “I’ll make dinner later.”

James nodded, reaching down with a free hand to pull the blankets over them. “A nap seems good.” He grunted out, trying to still the excitement building inside him. It threatened to boil over at how pleasantly domestic it felt to lay next to her. His mind whirled with hundreds of things he desperately wanted to blurt out.

Her body went slack in his hold. The rhythmic movement of her chest as she breathed falling in sync with his own. He decided his eager professions of love could wait until after she woke up.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi!

Can we go a batfamily x fem child reader?

Reader is like the personification of Gotham

Reader take strolls around Gotham to help people

Reader she's like prim and proper and elegant

Reader who's a little insane and a bit mad

Reader who had a old and dark mansion at the end of Gotham

Reader who's favorite is red hood

Reader who won't hesitate to kill but she stop herself

Reader who got adopted by the batfam

(Can you base reader of this?)

I’ll try my best with this!

-It was strange, seeing such a young child wandering the streets of Gotham so late at night- you didn’t seem scared at all, as you wandered around, almost like you were exploring.

-Batman was watching you from a rooftop, curious about you, wondering where your parents were and wondering why you weren’t scared as you looked out over the harbor.

-His many adopted children were also curious about you- looking down at you, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin as you were skipping down the road past a group of thugs as Robin spoke, “Is she really that brave, or just stupid?”

-When one of the thugs grabbed you by the back of your dress, hauling you up, they were quickly springing into action, rushing to you.

-Red Hood hit the one holding you and when you landed hard on your butt, everything froze as a minor earthquake shook the city. Nobody paid it any mind as Red Hood grabbed you, holding you up in his arms as they all took care of the thugs.

-When someone managed to hit Red Hood from behind, he went down hard and took you with him, but he did his best to protect you, but once again, when you hit the ground, another earthquake rumbled through before tears welled in your eyes as you realized, “You’re hurt!” the skies, which had been clear, suddenly darkened with clouds, and rain fell as the first tear slipped down your cheek.

-Nightwing was the one to take you from Red Hood, trying to calm you down as just as the rain started with your tears started, it stopped when you calmed down. Batman was curious, seeing that it was a bit odd, as he remembered the earthquakes as well.

-You were taken to the roof by the group with Red Robin and Red Hood going to get food for everyone, including you, and you introduced yourself, “My name is Y/N!”

-Batman was very patient with you, “Where are your parents Y/N?” you tilted your head to the side, like you were confused, “I don’t have any.”

-They all froze, realizing that you were an orphan, but you didn’t seem bothered as Bruce spoke again, “Where do you live then?”

-You stood from Bruce’s arms, looking out over the horizon, to a large mansion that has long been abandoned, being condemned but not destroyed as it was a piece of Gotham history, being the first building in Gotham, “In that house- that’s where I was born and raised!”

-They all shared a look, a bit concerned, thinking you were an abandoned child that was delusional. When the food arrived, Bruce handed you a burger and you smiled, “Thank you Mr. Wayne!”

-They all froze in shock, hearing you calling him by his actual name, Bruce cautiously speaking, “You know who I am?” you didn’t look bothered, smiling up at him and that’s when he noticed that your eyes were much older than what you looked like- like you were an old soul, “You know who I am?”

-You smiled, but it was almost unsettling, “I do- I know each person that has been born in, lived, and died in Gotham. It’s kind of my job.”

-Okay you just went from poor abandoned delusion child to scary really quick. Damien was quickly on guard, ready to fight you if you were deemed a threat as Jason spoke, looking curious, “And what exactly is your job?”

-You beamed as you stood, twirling before facing them, the Gotham skyline behind you, “I am Gotham! Or at least the personification of Gotham.”

-They all froze before Tim spoke up, “Wait so those earthquakes we felt and the rain when you started crying, that was all you?” you nodded, taking your seat again, but this time in Jason’s lap, as you liked him because he protected you, “Yup- when I’m happy it’s sunny and clear, when I’m sad it rains, when I’m mad it storms, and if I get hurt then bad things happen.”

-Batman was curious about you, and the more he heard, the more his internal adoptive impulses were flaring up, but so were the others, as they realized this was true- you were Gotham.

-You accepted their invitation to live with them with little to no hesitation, showing them that you had little to no fear, which was a bit concerning, but you were excited to have a family again!

[agent-oo-z]

Ok it’s been too long since I’ve spoken about BG3 headcanons. Instead of talking about my Tavs though I’m gonna talk about the companions!

POTENTIAL SPOILERS BELOW!

No Minthara because I have yet to recruit her in one of my games, sorry!!! I love her I just haven’t had the ability to play with her and all that.

Halsin

Halsin does not have sculpted abs. He’s got a stomach. I mean come on he’s literally a bear.

He loves talking about the ecology of the various environments you visit. He knows so much about so many plants and animals and fungi.

If you ask him to, Halsin will braid your hair for you. Social grooming is very important to him.

He loves to play with scratch and the owl bear cub in wild shape. He takes the shape of a wolf most often so he’s not too big.

Halsin keeps a nature journal! It’s like his own private version of inaturalist. He tracks the species he sees and where he sees them.

Gale

Gale is skinny and a bit toned during the start of the game, but as he is encouraged to take better care of himself he puts on some weight.

He is constantly asking Halsin about various creatures and Druidic magic. The man’s a nerd, he’s got so many questions and Halsin is kind and patient enough to actually enjoy answering them. They’re great academic buddies. When Gale becomes a professor he invites Halsin to give lectures on ecology and Druidic magic.

Gale has created spells that allow him to make a magic kitchen while on the road. This way he can use more than a campfire to cook.

He loves to stargaze and will point out his favorite constellations if you ask to join him.

Astarion

While he’s good at mending and sewing, Astarion enjoys making perfume far more. He eventually develops perfumes based on each of the traveling companions.

Astarion teaches the entire camp how to wash blood out of clothing and gear because someone has to. Also he refuses to do everyone’s laundry for them.

He often goes with Halsin to forage for herbs and flowers. It’s a chance to stock up on supplies for his perfumes and also to manipulate bond with the Druid.

Him and Shadowheart often discuss poisons together. They have a secret game early in the adventure where they say how they would poison each member of the group, what poison they would use, and why. When both of them start to feel accepted and cared for they switch to talking about what poisons best represent the group members instead.

Shadowheart

She spends a lot of time at camp by herself, even after rejecting Shar. She values alone time. It also allows her a chance to process what has happened to her and what she has lost.

Scratch sleeps with her most nights after he joins the camp. At first she’s annoyed by it(a ‘pet’ distracts from her mission) but it’s not very long before she’s cuddling with him.

Shadowheart collects trinkets after converting. She wants to surround herself with things she enjoys.

Lae’zel

Since she travels with a grindstone, Lae’zel helps everyone maintain their weapons. Not out of kindness at first, but because her allies being weak and having subpar gear makes her weak. Eventually tho she teaches everyone how to do it themselves to help them be stronger(and because helping people care for their weapons is a friendly gesture).

She develops a special bond with Gale and Shadowheart, as all three were manipulated/used/abandoned by their deities. She doesn’t exactly know how to support the others as the process things, but she is Faerun’s greatest hype man and constantly reminds them that the gods were cruel and foolish for what they did.

Lae’zel and Halsin help each other maintain their braids. Hers are more intricate and decorated but Halsin is more than able to put them in properly.

Wyll

Wyll spends a lot of time with Karlach after he refuses to kill her. At first because he wants to apologize for hunting her and prove he can be trusted, then after the transformation for advice on how to live life with horns, and finally because he just loves to spend time with her.

While he wasn’t exactly “shy” before his transformation, Wyll starts bathing last because his own body has become unfamiliar and he no longer feels comfortable being seen without at least a shirt and some pants on.

When the others realize that he’s struggling with his body more than he lets on they do their best to help in their own ways. Karlach teaches him how to care for his horns properly, Halsin helps him learn how to braid his hair around them, Astarion finds clothing that is not only comfortable and modest but also makes him look really good, Lae’zel helps him adjust to the change in his center of gravity by sparring with him, and Gale tracks down books about teifling/fiend anatomy for him to read.

He’s really good with children. When Arabella and then Yenna join the camp he spends his evenings keeping them company, telling them stories, playing with them, etc. Karlach often joins him.

Karlach

She makes use of her unnatural heat to help with as many things around camp as she can. Drying clothes, cooking, heating water for bathing, being cozy when it’s especially cold, etc. because if she can do good things with the engine it feels less like a curse.

Once she can touch people safely, she spends almost an entire evening just cuddling with as many people as possible. It starts with just Scratch and the owl bear cub. Then Halsin joins. Then she goes to find the others for hugs. Astarion jokes about how the two of them could probably reach normal temperatures if they just hugged for long enough.

She and Lae’zel bond quickly through their sparring. The two joke back and forth in their own ways and it confuses the other companions at first, because basically no one else has had a chance to learn Lae’zel’s sense of humor.

Karlach collects the various teddy bears and plush toys they encounter on the journey. Having nice, soft, cuddly things to curl up with makes her feel safe.

Jaheira

She knows how to get you fucked up beyond your wildest dreams. Smoking with her is an ORDEAL.

Jaheria speaks to the younger party members like they’re her kids. This doesn’t become clear until they visit her home, however, at which point said companions have various reactions(Karlach loves it, Lae’zel does not).

Minsc

Minsc quickly joins the sparring sessions. He also starts wrestling matches.

He can often be found having seemingly one sided conversations in camp, apparently talking to boo. The topics of these chats are vast and varied. Gale once heard him discussing the various meanings of different flowers in bouquets according to flower language.

[all-pacas]

Chase, s1e8: I gave my mum a bit of trouble when I was [the patient's age], and I turned out alright. Even she thought so.

you fucking liar. she died when you were in high school.

i just watched 'socratic method' too, and huh! yeah! good shit! chase trying to warn 15-year-old luke away from spending his life taking care of his mom, admitting he "would have done the same thing," able to explain the hyper-organization of the house to foreman - this is what you do, you try to control everything, you organize and list and track and it's like you're making a difference. chase watching luke reunite with his now-sane mom, looking away and leaving because that wasn't him. (house being weirdly nice to luke. sympathetic. you did a good job given your situation. you've taken good care of her. )

rowan chase showing up, smiling sincerely and greeting his son "dr chase." actually seeming pleased to see him. probably even proud. he made something of himself. he's glad his son comes to see him off. he smiles when they hug. he doesn't tell him he's dying anyway. he still abandoned him. rowan telling chase it wasn't his job to take care of his mother, that it was too much for a kid (house telling luke he did the best he could). rowan abandoning him to do it anyway.

chase in s8, explaining to adams his mother died with him hating her, his mother used to lock him away for hours and hours. the implication that rowan was proud, did care and even love his son, but was a shitty and neglectful father anyway. the implication that chase's mother couldn't have thought he turned out alright, that he was "too much" for her and she'd lock him up, that maybe one of the reasons he hated her was that she hadn't been a loving parent even before she fell apart.

(that chase has a much younger sister, in diapers when he was 15. almost certainly still a minor, still a teenager, when he goes to the US. that he says she wasted "half her life" drinking, when she's probably only in her 20s.)

it's so fucked you guys it's so fucked

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (20/23)

Chapter summary: You and Wanda go back for another couple's therapy session where Wanda reveals her abandonment issues; Afterwards, you and Wanda arrive in LA for Christmas with her family.

Chapter word count: 6.5k+ | Tags: Therapy, Healing, Comfort | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: Christmas part one. Can't believe there's only three more chapters and the epilogue. Enjoy!

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next part: Twenty-One

--

Twenty

As the second therapy session with Calliope gets underway, she opens with a warm smile, “Let's start with the assignment from our previous meeting. Were you both able to write and share your letters?”

You and Wanda share a quick glance before you respond with an enthusiastic, “Yeah, we did.”

You both can't help but beam, a sense of accomplishment clearly reflected in your faces.

“That's great to hear,” Calliope says warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Tell me about the experience. How did it feel to be so open with each other?”

You glance at Wanda, who gives a small nod to signal she'll take the lead. She inhales deeply, her gaze momentarily darting to you before returning to Calliope.

“It was, you know... really special. Romantic,” Wanda confesses, a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks as she feels a bit silly, like a teenager raving about a crush. Her fingers absentmindedly twirl in loops on her knees. “I mean, it wasn't a promise or anything, but being able to understand just how deeply she cares for me... it made my heart feel full, in the best way.”

Calliope's attention then shifts to you, her body language encouraging and patient as she waits for you to share your thoughts.

After a thoughtful pause, you answer, “It felt like unshackling myself. Putting all my feelings into words, it was like shedding some weight off my shoulders. And reading what Wanda wrote…” You pause, turning to look at Wanda, a gentle warmth lighting up your eyes. “It... It grounded me. Reminded me of why we are doing this, why we're trying to fix things in the middle of all this confusion... It's because we love each other.”

“I must say, I'm incredibly moved by the strides you both have made,” Calliope says. She then subtly changes her posture, turning to focus more directly on Wanda. 

“Now that we've started delving into Y/N's trust issues, it's only fair that we address your feelings too, Wanda. So, let's talk about your trust in Y/N. How are you feeling about that?” Calliope asks.

A flicker of surprise crosses your face, reflected in Wanda's as well. The room falls into a hushed pause as Wanda processes the question, her brow creased in deep thought. The possibility of Wanda having her own trust issues hadn't even crossed your mind. You've been so focused on your own sense of betrayal and the need to rebuild trust, you didn't consider that she might be struggling too. As you wait for Wanda's response, a knot tightens in your stomach, making you realize just how much her answer matters to you.

For a brief moment, Wanda looks at Calliope with a blank expression. “I... I'm not quite certain how to answer that,” she concedes, her fingers subconsciously toying with a loose thread on her sleeve. 

You find yourself hanging onto her every word. 

“Does it count that I was jealous of Yelena even before she and Y/N got together? There was an entire history between Y/N and Yelena that we never really discussed... that I was never really a part of.”

“Lack of trust can often sow seeds of insecurity, Wanda, which in turn leads to feelings of jealousy. Trust doesn't only involve a faith in someone's actions, but also in their words and their shared history.” Calliope explains, and then she turns to you. “Y/N, this is something you need to take into account. It's not only about how your actions impact Wanda's trust in you, but also how much you're willing to share and be transparent about your past and your feelings.”

You swallow dryly and nod at Calliope’s words. It's not easy, admitting this. But it's something you realize you need to say.

“Wanda, I wasn't being completely truthful with you back then,” you start, feeling the weight of the words as they leave your lips. “When I told you I didn't think it was worth mentioning… The truth is, it made me uncomfortable to talk about her.”

Wanda's brow furrows slightly, but she doesn't interrupt. You take that as a sign to continue.

“Yelena was... she was important to me. At some point, before you and I met, I thought she was the one. And when that love was ripped away from me because she moved to another country, it hurt. It hurt a lot. So when we reconnected while we were married, it was... it was complicated. Especially because you never knew about her. I didn't know how to bring it up. How to explain it to you. So I avoided it. And I realize now that was wrong. It wasn't fair to you.” you say.

Wanda studies you intently, her hands clasped tightly together as she works up the courage to voice her question. “And what...what did you feel when you saw Yelena again that time after all those years?”

You take a deep breath. This honestly thing is harder than you thought.

“When I saw Yelena again,” you begin, your voice low and steady. “It was like being transported back in time. There was this rush of old memories, some good, some painful. It was a little unsettling.”

“Did you… realize anything?” Wanda asks slowly. She doesn't spell it out, but you can read between the lines: Did you feel a spark between you two?

You don’t think you can answer that without telling Wanda something first.

“When Yelena and I broke up, our story ended on an open note. There was no closure and part of me always wondered 'what if'. But then you happened, Wanda. You walked into my life and turned it upside down in the most beautiful way.”

You take a deep breath, looking at Wanda, her wide eyes locked onto yours, filled with anticipation. “Before I asked you to marry me, I thought about Yelena. I wondered what it meant to still have an open chapter with her. But in that moment, I knew with absolute certainty, you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

Wanda visibly relaxes at this, which makes you regret the next words to come out of your mouth. 

“But when I found out what really happened, it just floored me,” you say. “Our trust was broken, our marriage ended, and I was left feeling totally confused and hurt. I had to question everything we ever had together.”

Your voice drops to a softer tone, “After our divorce, my history with Yelena seemed like something unfinished that I needed to explore. I was just trying to make sense of everything, looking for a way to move on. I let myself think about 'what if' with her, and even gave a relationship with Yelena a chance. But we both know how that turned out, don't we?”

You give a small shake of your head, smiling sadly, “But to directly answer your question: No, it didn't spark any old romantic feelings when I ran into her in Soho. I didn't feel the same butterflies that I felt when I fell in love with her back then, or the ones I felt when I fell for you. And I realized recently that what we had for the second time around was more about seeking a familiar comfort, a way for me to move from you.”

Wanda nods as she takes everything in. It suddenly feels like a funeral setting, mourning a series of losses.

“I think I’m just realizing now more clearly, the magnitude of what I’ve done,” Wanda begins. Her gaze is steady, albeit heavy with a kind of self-awareness that only comes after a period of reflection and growth. “When I messed up, it wasn't just about you and me. It hurt people we care about. The fallout wasn't contained to just us, it spread to almost everyone we really care about.”

Wanda inhales a deep, shuddering breath, visibly collecting herself. “I can't erase what I did. I can't change the past. But I can learn from it. That huge mistake I made... it's a part of me now. I have to live with it, not as a source of shame, but as a constant reminder of where I went wrong.”

Calliope listens, her expression softening with understanding as Wanda speaks. When Wanda finishes, she nods, thoughtful.

After a brief pause to let her words sink in, Calliope segues into the next subject. “Is there anything else that has strained your trust in Y/N, or have we covered everything?” 

Wanda, after a thoughtful silence, finally murmurs, “There's something else…”

You turn to your ex-wife, surprised by her admission. You brace yourself for whatever comes next, even though a nagging feeling at the back of your mind tells you that you're about to be blindsided once again by something in your relationship with Wanda.

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. Her voice is a bit shaky as she starts, “I... I'm afraid that one day you'll just... leave. Without a word, without a trace. Just like my mother did to me and my brother when we were young.”

She looks directly at you, vulnerability written all over her face. You can see the fear that grips her in those beautiful eyes, a fear that you've unknowingly contributed to.

“That night, when I asked you to stay... when I overdosed... it was that fear. That feeling of abandonment, it just... it just became too much,” she whispers, her voice trailing off.

You’re stunned into silence at the enormity of her confession. You had no idea that she carried such deep-rooted fears. It makes you view your actions and decisions in a new light. You may have unknowingly triggered her worst fear, exacerbating the pain she felt from your separation.

You reach across the couch to take her hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“I... I didn't realize that night what I was doing to you,” you say, looking down at your hands, now entwined. “I should've stayed. Maybe then things would've been different. If I'd understood...” Your voice trails off, choked with regret.

Wanda’s overdose, her hospitalization, it really was your fault. “Y/N,” Calliope's gentle voice cuts through your self-recrimination, “I see that you're blaming yourself, but it's crucial to recognize that we are all responsible for our own actions. Wanda's overdose was her response to the pain, a decision driven by her emotional state at the time. While you did play a role in her life, you didn't dictate her choices. There were other ways for her to cope, other people she could have reached out to. The path she took, as desperate as it may have been, was her decision. Our challenge now is to understand why she felt that was her only option, rather than assigning blame.”

Action and reaction. You understand that these are the things you can control if they are your own, but that doesn't negate the fact that other factors can influence them. Calliope's words don't quite alleviate the guilt threatening to engulf you.

“Y/N, would you care to share your intentions that night when you left Wanda? Did you plan to sever all communication with her?” Calliope gently prods.

“Calliope, can we–” Wanda begins, her voice breaking as if the words are lodged in her throat. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”

“No, Wanda, it’s okay,” you say softly. Your eyes lock with Wanda's, holding her gaze as if trying to communicate a silent promise. You then turn to Calliope, drawing a deep breath.

“I... I don't know," you admit, your voice low. “I was so hurt and angry... I couldn't think straight. But I never intended to... to abandon her like that. I just... I needed some space. I needed time to process everything that happened. And I thought she needed it too.”

Wanda cuts in to support your statement, “We were hurting each other... every day, every moment. It was as if we were stuck in a loop of anger, pain, and... meaningless sex. That week... it was like we were poisoning each other.” 

Wanda's voice softens, reaching out to you with a heartfelt plea, “I understand now why you had to leave then. But this time, if we're trying... if we're really committed to this, can I count on you to communicate with me if you ever feel like you need space?”

As Calliope turns to you for an answer, you feel an immediate sense of calmness washing over you. 

“Of course, Wanda,” you assure her with a small smile.

With a satisfied nod, Calliope wraps up the joint part of your therapy session, “That's a good place to pause for now.” She looks over at both of you, a proud smile on her face.

She then turns to you specifically, “Y/N, would you still be okay to proceed with your individual session after a short 30-minute break?”

You nod quickly. You want nothing more than to proceed and talk to Calliope about some things that have made it difficult for you to sleep in recent days.

“Alright, then. I'll see you shortly,” Calliope remarks, retreating to her desk, her pen already dancing across her notebook.

You and Wanda rise from your seats, and she mentions that she needs to rush back to the cafe to work on potential recipes for the “Cup-off”. You've only heard about this competition in passing one evening, but you nod supportively, thankful for her patience and engagement throughout these therapy sessions. She rewards you with a kiss on the cheek, and a promise to call you later.

“Okay, Y/N, let's begin,” Calliope starts, taking a deep and grounding breath. You find yourself silently admiring her resilience and strength. Her job seems like more of an emotional balancing act than you initially thought, bearing witness to all sorts of personal burdens day in and day out. Yet here she is, prepared to cross another emotional minefield. You briefly wonder if it ever gets to her–the burden of other people's problems.

“So, Y/N, how are you doing right now?”

You chuckle lightly, shaking your head as you settle back into the same spot you occupied just thirty minutes ago. “You were in the room with us,” you say with a wry smile. “You know how it went.”

Calliope grins slightly, responding patiently, “Yes, I was there. But a lot can shift in thirty minutes. It's fascinating, isn't it? The fluidity of human emotions. They can change, sometimes so rapidly.”

You smile good-naturedly, feeling the warmth from the coffee cup still lingering in your hands. Glancing out onto the balcony of the reception area had given you a moment to breathe, to reflect.

“Actually, I'm doing alright,” you tell Calliope, your voice steadier than before. “The quick break helped me calm down. I was upset, I won't lie, after hearing about the impact of my leaving on Wanda. And the thought of almost losing her without even realizing it... I would never be able to forgive myself if something had happened to her.”

“It won't be easy, but you need to forgive yourself. Wanda has,” Calliope says.

You take a deep breath, trying to absorb her words. It's one thing to hear Wanda say she forgives you, but to actually forgive yourself? That's a more complicated matter.

“Thank you, Calliope. I'll try.” You pause, collecting your thoughts, before adding, “There is actually something else on my mind.”

“What is it, Y/N?”

“Natasha,” you say, the name echoing in the room, fraught with significance. “She's my best friend. Well, was, I guess. And she's Yelena's sister.”

A brief understanding flashes across Calliope's face. “Ah,” she murmurs, leaning back in her chair. “That's a complex dynamic.”

“To say the least,” you reply, a hollow laugh escaping your lips. “I messed up with Yelena, right? I...I kissed Wanda while we were still together. And after Yelena broke up with me, Natasha and I had a big fight. She's refused to talk to me since. So, I’m just gonna go straight to it and ask you: How do I fix it?”

Calliope studies you for a moment, her gaze steady. “Y/N,” she begins, leaning further back in her chair, “A common misconception about therapy is that therapists are the 'fixers', that we hold all the answers to people's problems. But the truth is, we're here just to guide, to help you look at situations in a healthier way.”

You find yourself nodding, even though a part of you yearns for a simple solution.

Calliope pauses, letting you digest her words. “As for your situation with Natasha, you must understand that your control is limited. You cannot control her reactions or feelings. What you can control are your actions and intentions.”

She sees the understanding dawning in your eyes. “Your desire to fix the situation is natural, especially when you've caused hurt. But apologies can't be rushed, and forgiveness can't be demanded. However, there are steps you can take to start the process of healing.”

It's not an immediate solution, but it's a direction to follow. “I see,” you mutter, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Can you share with me what these steps are?”

Calliope smiles at your willingness to learn the process. “First, acknowledge what you've done wrong. In your case, it seems like you've done that. You've recognized that your actions with Wanda while being with Yelena caused you to hurt Natasha,” she starts.

“Second, reflect. Why did you do it? From what I’ve gathered, it’s because of your intense feelings for Wanda, which you have acknowledged in our previous sessions. Next, and most critically, how can you prevent such actions in the future?” she continues.

“Third, make the apology, but make sure it's sincere. People can tell when you're not genuinely sorry. Don't just say it to make yourself feel better, but rather to acknowledge the hurt you've caused," she advises, her gaze fixed on yours, driving home the importance of the words.

“I tried when I could,” you respond, frustration seeping into your voice. “But now, I don't even know how or when I could get another chance to…”

“Well, you’ve done your part, Y/N. Maybe you were sincere, but it wasn’t the right time for her yet. Maybe she wasn’t ready to hear it.” Calliope says.

You rub your face, feeling the weariness creeping in. “I just... I hope she knows how deeply sorry I am.”

“She will, Y/N, in her own time. Which brings us to the last advice I can give you,” Calliope says. “Give them time and space. It's crucial to understand that they may need time to process your apology and decide how they feel about it. They may not forgive you immediately, or even at all. That's something you'll have to accept.”

That's something you'll have to accept.

You went to kindergarten with Natasha. You shared birthdays together and even a funeral. 

If Natasha never forgives you, then you permanently lose a piece of your life.

A piece of yourself.

***

The persistent drone of the plane engines always unsettled you, making you hesitant about leaving the familiarity of solid ground. This feeling has you rooted in one city, avoiding globe-trotting adventures or cross-country escapades.

But when Wanda asked you to go with her to Los Angeles to celebrate Christmas with her family, you couldn't say no. The way her eyes lit up when she asked you was irresistible, and with your mom planning to spend the holidays with her friends in Europe, you faced the prospect of being alone in Manhattan. Despite your discomfort with planes, you decided to put your fears aside and join her on the trip. 

Wanda, otherwise the perfect companion, is now constantly on her phone, taking calls every five minutes, and when she's not on a call, she's texting. You overhear snippets about delayed orders and maintenance contracts, so it's probably her suppliers, but the incessant buzzing and clicking of her phone still gnaws at your attention.

Who are they, these people reaching out to her? Even if it's just business, what are all these conversations about? Wanda happens to be a very attractive woman, and people aren't blind to it. 

She takes wind of your unease eventually, her hand reaching over to squeeze yours, a reassuring smile on her face. “It's just the suppliers and the maintenance people for the shop,” she explains, but the phone still rests in her other hand, a barrier that you can't quite overcome.

Before you can respond, the pilot's voice echoes through the cabin, signaling take-off, you instinctively brace yourself, your knuckles whitening as you clutch the armrests tightly. Noticing your visible discomfort, Wanda gently peels your rigid fingers away from the armrest and threads them through hers. A soft gasp escapes her as your grip tightens around her fingers instinctively, harder than you mean to. Sparky, comfortably nestled in Wanda's lap, looks considerably more at ease than you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, eyes squeezed shut as you brace for the sensation of the accelerating plane.

“It's okay, love,” Wanda reassures you. Her thumb traces comforting circles over the back of your hand, and you cling to the calming rhythm.

The plane picks up speed, the familiar pressure building in your chest. You suck in a quick breath, your free hand gripping the armrest on your other side.

Suddenly, Sparky lifts his head from Wanda's lap and turns to you, his furry face full of concern. His soft whimpering and puppy eyes manage to pull a small smile from you. Somehow, his innocent worry makes the tension ebb away slightly.

With one last reassuring squeeze of your hand, Wanda whispers, “We're about to lift off. Just remember to breathe.”

As the plane ascends, your heart flutters in response to the shift in gravity. The world outside the window begins to shrink, the vast expanse of the city transforming into a model town. You keep your eyes shut, focusing on the steady rhythm of Wanda's thumb on your hand. If you’re going to die from a plane crash today, you find comfort in having Wanda’s assurances against your ear as the last sound you’ll ever hear. 

“See, we're okay,” Wanda says after a moment, a note of triumph in her voice.

You open your eyes slowly, the cabin steady around you. As you look out of the window, the sight of the sprawling city below is enough to take your breath away. 

“Do I get a reward for doing a great job?” you ask with a smirk.

A playful grin takes over her features as she leans in, pressing a light kiss to your lips. She then whispers in your ear, her voice low and sweet, “You’ll get the rest of your reward tonight, baby.”

The sound of her voice makes you tingle in all the right (wrong) places and it effectively distracts you enough from your fear of flying, allowing for some much-needed conversation.

“How’s the cup competition coming along?”

“Cup-off,” Wanda corrects you with a chuckle, her chin coming to rest on your shoulder, her breath fanning against your neck as she speaks. “It’s been fun coming up with different flavors, but I don’t know…” she trails off. “But, let's face it. I'm just a home cook who loves her espresso machine, not a seasoned barista. I'll be up against real coffee connoisseurs who've been perfecting their brews for years.”

“And that's what makes it so interesting, don't you think?” You turn your head slightly to meet her eyes. “You bring something different to the table, Wanda. You have a passion and creativity that they might not have.”

She gives you a thoughtful look, clearly mulling over your words. Her lips curve into a small, appreciative smile, and she snuggles closer to you. “You always know how to make me feel better,” she murmurs, her voice dropping an octave, and you know she's doing it on purpose, trying to rile you up. But there's just plenty of things on your mind right now, and her phone buzzing with notifications again isn't helping. 

“It's easy when it's the truth,” you say, stirring the topic back to coffee. “But how about you approach it from a different angle?”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, tilting her head and looking at you with apt interest.

“Instead of flavors, return to the basics. Use single origin coffee for your brew and make sure to source only the best stuff. I don’t know. Maybe I’m not making sense. But… sometimes people just really appreciate quality ingredients, you know?”

Wanda's eyes widen, and you notice a spark of excitement in her expression. She leans closer, her attention fully on you, the phone momentarily forgotten. “You may be onto something,” she says slowly.

“Really?” Your eyebrows shoot up, surprised and delighted at her interest.

“Really,” Wanda's expression turns thoughtful, her gaze fixated on some distant point as she mulls over your idea some more. “In fact, that's actually a great idea, Y/N. It emphasizes the true essence of coffee, rather than masking it with a variety of flavors. It's raw, it's honest, and it's authentic... Just like you.”

Feeling a rush of warmth, you give her a teasing nudge. "Are you comparing me to a coffee now?"

She chuckles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Maybe I am,” she says playfully, tightening her hold on your hand.

You roll your eyes, but your heart flutters at her words, and you find yourself leaning into her touch. 

The idea of coming to LA with her just keeps getting better and better.

***

The flight to California feels endless, the hours stretching on. But the moment the plane touches down and the doors open, Wanda's face transforms with anticipation. As soon as she steps into the arrival lounge, her eyes lock onto a familiar figure. Her brother, standing a little taller than her but with the same striking features, waves energetically in her direction.

Without hesitation, Wanda breaks into a light run, her face lighting up with pure, unadulterated joy.  She launches herself into his embrace. Their arms wrap around each other, the distance and time apart melting away. “Piet,” she murmurs into his shoulder, her voice thick with emotion.

He ruffles her hair, his grin matching hers. "Been too long, little sis," he teases, before turning his attention to you. 

“And Y/N,” Pietro greets you, his eyes scanning your face for a moment before he extends his hand. The handshake is civil, firm but noticeably cool. His polite smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and in that brief contact, you feel a lingering tension that serves as a reminder that not all is forgotten.

You grab Pietro's hand, giving it a quick shake. “Pietro.” 

He quickly shifts his focus back to Wanda, bombarding her with questions you can't keep up with. As Wanda and Pietro chat and laugh, you feel a bit left out.

Pietro's cool demeanor makes it clear he knows about the issues between you and Wanda. You can't help but feel like you're on the outside looking in. Tugging on Sparky's leash and pulling your suitcase, you trail behind them, feeling like you're not really part of this little family reunion. 

With Sparky trotting faithfully at your side, you traverse the bustling airport, lagging slightly behind Wanda and Pietro. Suddenly, Wanda seems to realize that you've fallen behind. She slows her pace and glances back at you with a soft smile. “Sorry,” she says, a slight flush to her cheeks as if she's only just remembered you're there too. “Got caught up with all the catching up.”

You offer her a small, understanding smile, grateful for the effort she's making to include you. “It's okay,” you reassure her. “It's been a while since you two last saw each other. Catch up all you want.”

Her smile widens at your words, and she squeezes your hand lightly in appreciation. The simple action is enough to wash away your earlier discomfort, reminding you that even if the situation isn't perfect, you're here for Wanda. 

And that's all that matters.

To call Pietro's home in Sherman Oaks 'big' feels almost like an understatement. It's a sprawling, two-story house, complete with a wide, beautifully maintained front lawn and a driveway big enough to accommodate several cars. The house itself, painted in a warm, welcoming shade of beige, feels incredibly homely despite its size. The large windows and well-manicured garden make it clear that whoever lives here puts a lot of effort into maintaining it. For a brief moment, you feel a pang of intimidation; this is a far cry from the apartments and small houses back in New York. 

Wanda's eyes widen in astonishment as they scan the surroundings. It seems she's just as impressed as you are. You lean towards her, whispering so that only she can hear, “Does Pietro really rake in that much cash?”

She gives you a sidelong glance, her eyes sparkling with amusement before shrugging her shoulders lightly. “I think it's his wife,” she responds in the same hushed tone.

“He got married again?” you ask, remembering the last time you heard about Pietro's personal life, he was going through a messy divorce.

Wanda nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, he did. And from what I can tell, I think it's really for keeps this time.”

Before you can comment further, a woman appears in the doorway. She's pregnant, very much so, at about six months based on her huge, round belly. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” she exclaims, approaching Wanda with open arms. Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly finding the grandiosity of the mansion anything but modest. She kisses each of Wanda's cheeks, and her warm smile is genuine and infectious.

However, as you watch her, you can't help but gasp softly. You recognize her. Your mind instantly takes you back to the day of your job interview at Stark Industries, and it was her–Shannon–who interviewed you.

You're so shell-shocked by the sudden realization that you just stand there, momentarily frozen.

Wanda nudges you gently, a knowing look in her eyes. “You recognize Shannon, don't you?” she asks, not bothering to lower her voice. 

Shannon turns to you and her smile widens, “I see you remember our meeting.”

You manage to stammer out a surprised, “Yes,” while trying to regain your composure. 

Wanda seems to sense your anxiety. She wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “I knew about the interview. Shannon told me,” she confesses, her voice just a whisper in your ear. “She was the one who gave me your new address.”

“She did what?”

“I think she did it to amuse herself because I was–I wasn’t clearly getting over you and she sort of nudged me in your direction. But I didn’t contact you until a month later, when Sparky had to be taken to the vet.”

“But my getting hired–that had nothing to do with you, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Wanda assures you, quickly dispelling your worry. “She only mentioned it to me over a month after we... after we had cut off communication. She did mention talking to Scott before hiring you.”

The mention of Scott's name brings a genuine smile to your face, tugging at the corner of your lips. You make a mental note to call him on Christmas Day.

“Why am I here hunting for a tree again?” Wanda grumbles, glancing back at the shrinking figure of you through Pietro's pickup truck window.

“Because you love me?” Pietro shoots back with a shrug.

“And Y/N, she'll be okay back there, right?”

“Y/N this, Y/N that,” Pietro mimics, feigning exasperation. “She’ll be fine.”

“You say that as if Shannon’s the loveliest host.”

“Well, she's been a lot nicer since she got pregnant.”

With a small sigh, Wanda leans back in her seat. The earlier excitement of seeing her brother at the airport is starting to fade. Now, without you or Sparky around, she feels a bit uneasy being alone with Pietro.

“I can hear the gears turning in your head, sis. What’s up?”

Wanda takes a steadying breath, searching for the right words. “It's Y/N,” she begins. “Piet, I'm... I'm nervous. With Y/N here, with everything that happened, I don't know how…” She trails off, biting her lower lip.

Pietro is quiet for a moment. “And mom?” he prompts gently.

Wanda nods, her eyes distant. “And mom,” she echoes. “I wrote back to her, you know?”

Pietro raises his eyebrows in surprise. "You did?" 

Wanda had always been more hesitant to reopen old wounds, especially when it came to their mother.

Wanda nods. “I did. I... I wrote about Dad. About how much it hurt when she left. I told her that I understand we don't really have a relationship right now, but... I want to try. I want to start fixing things.”

Pietro doesn't respond immediately. He keeps his eyes on the road, but the grip on his steering wheel tightens just a bit. When he finally speaks, his tone is softer than usual. “And what did she say?”

“I only sent it recently, just before we left for this trip,” Wanda admits. “I'm not sure whether she's received it yet or if she wrote me back.”

“So, does that mean you've forgiven her?” Pietro asks.

“I can't say for sure,” Wanda confesses. “But I'm hoping to, as I get to know this new version of her–the one you seem to have bonded with so well.”

“Wanda, she's really changed,” Pietro insists. “I've been telling you this.”

“I know, I know,” Wanda says, sounding a bit apologetic. “I'm sorry it's taken me this long to pay attention.”

“Hey, no worries,” Pietro says, giving her a gentle look. “You know what they say, right? Everything happens in its own time.”

After a beat, Pietro asks, “How are you and Y/N?”

“We're doing well, actually,” Wanda says, surprise softening her voice as if she's just realizing it herself. “Y/N has been... different. More open. More like the person I fell in love with. We're communicating more, which helps.”

“That's great to hear, Wanda. Really.”

“But,” she adds, her voice dropping to a murmur, “I still feel like there's a part of Y/N holding back. Like she’s still not fully trusting me... and I get it. I just... I hope that with time, that changes.”

Pietro smiles at her, nodding, then returns his attention to the road. 

“And you and Shannon?” Wanda asks after it gets too quiet again. “How are things going?”

A shadow passes over Pietro's features, and he takes a deep breath before answering. “Actually... something happened. It's not bad, per se. But…”

“What did you do, Piet?” Wanda asks, her brows already pulled together into a frown.

“Why do you automatically assume it was me who did something?” Pietro retorts with a hint of amusement.

“Didn't you?”

Pietro hesitates for a moment before finally relenting, “...Yeah, I did.”

“So?”

“Well, about a week ago, I went out to a bar with a few friends from my old college football team, and I–”

“Tell me you did not cheat again on your pregnant wife!” Wanda exclaims, her voice rife with disbelief and anger.

With her sudden outburst, Pietro slams on the brakes, the vehicle screeching to a halt in the middle of the road. His arm aches sharply from the force of Wanda's indignant punch.

“Ow! Hey, stop,” Pietro shields himself from Wanda’s onslaught. “Jesus, Wands, I didn’t cheat on her, okay?”

Hearing this, Wanda pulls back, sinking back into her seat with a wary look on her face. She waits for him to explain further. He starts steering the car back into the highway again. 

“I was just…” Pietro grapples for the right words, his expression troubled. “The therapy sessions with Dr. Williams... they've been beneficial, right? I mean, they've definitely helped you. And Shannon says they're making a difference for me too, but I…”

“But you still doubt yourself,” Wanda finishes his sentence, her voice laced with understanding.

Pietro affirms her statement with a heavy nod. “So that night, I thought I'd try a little experiment–see if I've really made as much progress as everyone says. I struck up a conversation with a woman at the bar, and before I knew it, we were flirting. It was like slipping back into an old rhythm–and it didn't matter to her that I was a married man.” 

A bitter edge creeps into his voice as he pauses, gazing absently at the road ahead. “Then I offered to drive her home...that's usually when things take a turn, isn't it?”

Wanda recoils slightly, her nose scrunching up in distaste. The direction this story is taking leaves a sour taste in her mouth. She's uncomfortable, disturbed even, by the idea of Pietro willingly steering himself towards temptation like that. It feels too real, too human–a crisp reminder that making progress doesn't mean you're immune to setbacks.

“Right as she put her hand on my lap,” Pietro recounts, his throat tightening slightly as he swallows. “I understood that time spent in therapy doesn't just automatically make you a better person. It's the choices you make, every single day. Loving someone, being true to them...it's a conscious effort, day in and day out. You have to continuously choose them, especially when the sailing's smooth.”

Wanda absorbs his words, feeling the truth in them echo within her. She doesn't entertain any illusions about the two of you riding off blissfully into the sunset without a care in the world. Reality is far from that. Both you and her would always have to remain vigilant. Complacency, she knows, can be her worst enemy.

Wanda waits with bated breath. “What happened next?” she whispers.

He turns his gaze back to the road. “I moved her hand away from my lap and took her home, just like I said I would. Nothing more.”

“And did you tell Shannon about this?” Wanda asks, her voice steady, almost clinical.

Pietro’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Yeah, I did. The morning after. I didn’t want to keep it from her.”

Wanda's heart aches for her brother. Maybe he's truly attempting to become a better person, even if his methods are foolish at times. 

“And how did she react?”

Pietro shrugs, attempting to mask his apprehension with a nonchalant demeanor. “She was... understandably upset. But she appreciated the honesty, I think. We're still working through it.”

Wanda silently reflects on his words. She can't imagine herself taking such a risk, not after everything that's happened. It isn't about doubting her own commitment or strength of character, but she feels it's a mark of respect to you not to willingly tread near the edge of temptation.

With a soft sigh, she turns her attention to the road ahead as they pull into the Christmas tree farm. The task of picking out a tree seems almost trivial in comparison to what they had just discussed, yet it also feels grounding—a joyful tradition amidst the complexities of life. For now, they have a Christmas tree to pick out.

Taglist: @canvascoloredin | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez | @justyourwritter69 | @stanolsevans | @aliherreraaa | @diaryoflife| @justagurlwholikes | @lizziesplant | @cowxpoke | @sokovianbaby| @swiftie1-0-1 | @scarlettbitchx | @tercerspirit-22

[pinksunsetsandstarrynights]

Adamsapple Harvest: Urban Legends

So this fill has nothing to do with the Human AU I wrote about in my other fills. I got the idea for this one while watching a Papa Meat video about asylums and one of the images in the video looked quite different from the corner of my eye...

Just a heads-up the Adamsapple is very light in this one.

"Remember to watch where you step," Adam warned his younger cousin, "and keep your grip on your flashlight, Butterfingers!"

"I'm not going to drop it," Peter answered back, annoyed. "I drop one of Emily's figurines one time…"

"I mean it, Peter. These abandoned places can be dangerous if you're not careful." Adam was really starting to wish that Emily hadn't insisted that he let Peter tag along for some "much needed family bonding."

Yeah, right.

Adam knew she just wanted her brother to be out the house so she could have a date over. It was good timing too since Aunt Sera would still be out of town for another day. Now normally Adam wouldn't mind helping Emily out so she could score some pussy, but he wasn’t checking out an old house this time.

It was a three story mental asylum miles outside of town with a long history of malpractice and patient death until it finally closed its doors sixty years ago thanks to a basement fire. The kids trying to scare their friends liked to say that the fire was the result of dark rituals that used the patients as sacrifices. Obviously that was bullshit. The story that the adults liked to gossip about was that it was arson, done to collect insurance on the property.

In Adam’s opinion, it was caused by probably the most overlooked and boring theory: an electrical fire that got out of hand. The asylum had become more run down in its later years, so faulty wiring wouldn't be unexpected.

But whatever reasoning for the asylum's closure, it wasn't the kind of place anyone would take their skittish teenage cousin. And honestly, it wasn't the kind of place a braver person should visit alone either. Adam had been planning to explore the place with his best friend, Lute, but she bailed on him at the very last minute. Just before Emily suggested that he take Peter instead.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why Lute changed her mind.

He wasn't mad about that, but damn it, Peter was not a good substitute. Adam wouldn't be surprised if their trip ended up being cut ridiculously short because Peter freaked out over some rats scurrying around. And if it did, then Lute was going to owe him big time.

---

It was so far so good, surprisingly.

There wasn't much inside, most of the furniture was gone. Strangely, there was no graffiti indoors, even though the outside was tagged to hell. Adam guessed that the stories were enough to keep taggers from actually going inside. Peter was still looking anxious, but when he was asked if he wanted to wait in the car, he insisted on staying.

Whatever. As long as Peter didn't start screaming his ear off, Adam will ignore the teenager's obvious trembling.

Less natural light was shining through the windows and the flashlights were now being kept on. Sunset was coming, so they would have to leave soon. But there was one more place Adam wanted to get a look at first...

"The basement-?!" Peter cried out before stifling himself, his eyes darting around the administration office. "But Adam," he continued in a frightened whisper, "that's where they killed those poor people for blood sacrifices!"

For fuck’s sake…

"Dude, there were no evil rituals in the basement. There's no such thing as black magic," Adam firmly told him. "The only creepy shit that happened here was just normal shitty people doing fucked up treatments and that ended years ago."

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"Look, how about we both go down the staircase together and if you see anything before we get off the stairs, we'll turn right around and go home. Sound fair?"

"…I'm not going into the basement even if I don't see anything, " Peter stated quietly.

"Then you don't have to. Just stay on the stairs and shine some extra light for me."

Peter agreed and surprisingly took the lead down the staircase. "So I can keep an eye out better."

They took it slow, much to Adam's chagrin. At this rate, it was going to be pitch black outside by the time they leave. After fucking forever, Peter reached the bottom of the staircase, the beam of his flashlight moved frantically around the basement before suddenly freezing on one spot.

"Uh, Peter...?" Adam asked. "Do you see something?"

Peter didn't answer, instead turning around and shoving Adam out of his way back up the stairs.

Adam ended up tripping on the final steps and landed hard onto the floor. Pain lit up his senses as the taste of iron filled his mouth. The sound of Peter's retreating steps was echoing in his ears.

Did that fucker seriously just shove him and leave him here?! Adam huffed, yeah he so wasn't contributing to Peter's college fund after this bullshit. Fucking asshole.

He got himself back onto his feet, ignoring the stinging on his palms and knees. It was dark as hell here. Thankfully there was a beam of light cutting through the dark. Adam was lucky his flashlight didn’t shut off from the fall. He spat out the blood in his mouth and took a few steps toward the light. He grabbed his flashlight and aimed the beam around the basement. Now what did Peter see that made him bolt out like that. It better not have been a damn piece of burnt furniture...

That wasn't burnt furniture.

Adam felt sick. His heart began to race and his hands became clammy.

Furniture wasn't made up of charred bones.

Oh god, he could see a face...

There was fresh, red blood right on its lips, the stretched skin of which were frozen in mid-wail. Fuck his life, he desecrated a corpse...

Alright, Adam, just stay calm. You just need to get out of here and then you can call 911 to report the body. Okay? That's the game plan. Now turn around and leave.

What was that?

D-did those fingers just twitch...?

No, he's just stressed. It's not everyday you find a body. He should probably stop looking at-

Adam dropped his flashlight and took off running back toward the stairs.

Corpses don't lick blood off their lips!

He practically flew up the steps and didn't stop running once he reached the top. He needed to get the fuck out of here. There was still just enough sunlight that Adam could see where he was going.

Right.

Left.

Left.

He can see the front lobby!

His lungs were burning, but that didn't matter. He only needed ten more feet to reach freedom!

Adam's fingers skimmed the door knob of the exit.

So close!

Strong limbs wrapped themselves around him and yanked him back.

"Nooo!" Adam yelled, hope snatched away at the last possible second.

He stumbled onto his ass and before he could even try to get up, a hand - so pale that it practically glowed under the growing shadows - covered his mouth.

Adam moaned in despair. He was going to die in this shithole.

"Shhh… I won't hurt you, I won't hurt you," the voice, a harsh rasp from disuse and thirst, whispered. "I only want to make you scream."

Adam didn't believe it. He whimpered, and struggled some more. He knew no one would be coming to save him.

"Shhh... You'll love it," The creature murmured in his ear before licking the tears off Adam’s cheek, making him shudder. "My savior."

Adam's screams echoed throughout the asylum that night, left unheard by his cousin as he ran down the dirt road back toward civilization.