#If I could be there to support him I would be!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kirammanswifey · 1 day ago

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how arcane characters would deal with mental disorders x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: writing this felt like giving myself a warm hug, a comfort that i needed. if anyone reading this is going through or has gone through any of these disorders, i want to tell you that you are very brave because it is not an easy thing, so feel proud of yourself. i hope you liked this as much as i did. as i'm a psychology student, i felt very motivated and i hope that it was quite understandable and enjoyable. as you already know request are open ;)

P.S. i know the other option won in the poll on my profile, but i need more time to refine the ideas and make something high quality that everyone will love, which i’ll be posting tomorrow ;)

Viktor Depression

The world around you feels like a constant weight, a heavy blanket that wraps around you, not letting you breathe. You wake up each day with a sense of emptiness in your chest, as if a black hole is absorbing all your energy, your motivation, your ability to feel anything other than sadness and apathy.

It’s not that you don’t want to get out of bed; it’s that the simple act of moving a finger feels like a titanic task. Fatigue is your constant companion, a shadow that never leaves you. Things that once filled you with joy now seem distant, irrelevant, as if they belonged to a life that is no longer yours.

The dark thoughts are your constant whispers, reminding you that you’re not enough, that it’s all pointless, that there’s no way out. Sometimes, you cry without knowing why; other times, you want to cry, but even that you can’t do. You feel trapped in an invisible prison, with no strength to fight your way out.

Viktor watches you from the doorway of your room, his gaze soft and full of concern. He knows the weight of shadows well, although his are different. Silently, he approaches and sits on the edge of the bed, not invading your space, but close enough for you to feel his presence.

“I have a new project I’m working on,” he says in a quiet voice, trying not to break the fragile bubble of your world. “I thought maybe you could join me today. You don’t have to do anything, just be there. Your company always helps me think.”

He doesn’t pressure you. Viktor understands that words can be hard to find when your mind is clouded by depression. He knows that the solution isn’t to force you to feel better, but to be with you, to offer you a hand, a small step forward.

He gently rises and offers his hand, not expecting you to take it, but hoping that you’ll know he’s there, ready to support you when you’re ready. “The world can wait,” he murmurs. “But I’m here, whenever you want to come back.”

His patience is infinite, his understanding deep. Viktor doesn’t try to fix you, because he doesn’t see you as broken. He knows that depression is a battle you fight every day, and he’s willing to walk alongside you, every small step, every shared silence.

You look at his hand, then his face; he’s concerned even though he tries to hide it. You make a huge effort to get out of bed, and even though your body doesn’t cooperate at first, you manage. You take his hand and gently squeeze it; that’s the most affection you can give him right now, you’re exhausted.

“Let’s go,” you murmur, your voice hoarse and broken; it’s the first time you’ve spoken all day.

You’re sitting next to Viktor in his small workshop, surrounded by pieces of metal and unfinished prototypes. He’s explaining his latest invention, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes. You feel a little better, enough to enjoy his company, and for a moment, a laugh escapes your lips when you hear one of his stories.

“Did you really say that to Heimerdinger?” you laugh, your eyes shining with a spark of life. It’s a small moment, but for Viktor, it’s like seeing the sun rise after a storm.

He smiles, pleased to have made you laugh. “Yes, and his face... It was certainly indescribable,” he replies with a softness that reflects his pleasure at seeing you enjoy yourself, even if just for an instant.

But suddenly, without warning, the laughter turns into a lump in your throat. The spark of joy fades as quickly as it came, and you find yourself trapped in a wave of overwhelming sadness. The tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you can’t stop them. The confusion in your eyes is evident, as if your body has betrayed the fleeting happiness you just felt.

Viktor notices immediately. He leans toward you, his expression turning serious, but his eyes remain warm and full of understanding. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t seek explanations that may be impossible to give. Instead, he moves a little closer, offering you his silent presence.

“It’s okay,” he says gently, his voice an anchor amidst your internal storm. “You don’t have to explain it. Just breathe.”

He offers you his hand, this time with more intent. You take it, feeling the warmth and firmness in his grip, a reminder that you’re not alone in this moment. You needed that contact. You needed to know that you could feel something other than sadness right now. Viktor doesn’t pull away, doesn’t feel uncomfortable. He knows that depression doesn’t follow rules, that it can strike at any moment, and he’s willing to stay with you, no matter how long it lasts.

“Do you want us to stay here?” he asks, his tone delicate. “Or we can walk a little, if that helps.”

His willingness to adapt to your needs wraps you in a sense of safety. Even though the tears keep falling, Viktor’s presence is a balm, a reminder that, even in the darkest moments, there’s someone who sees you, who understands you, and who’s willing to stay by your side.

“Just... stay here with me,” you say, letting yourself fall against his body, exhausted.

He caught you and wrapped you with care, it was a hug with the right amount of strength.

“Take your time, darling. I won’t go anywhere,” Viktor promised in a whisper, never stopping the caresses on your back.

And that was enough to make you feel less miserable.

Jinx Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

The echo of the explosions still resonates in your mind, even though years have passed since that day when your world crumbled. The night everything you loved was consumed by flames in an attack on the Undercity. The night you lost your family and were left alone, with the screams and the smell of smoke forever etched in your memory.

As you walk beside Jinx through the bustling streets of Zaun, everything seems normal, almost calm, until an explosion in the distance makes your heart stop. It’s a dry, loud sound, far too similar to the one you heard that night. Without warning, your breath becomes shallow, your lungs struggle to take in air, and an overwhelming sense of absolute panic takes hold of you.

Your body freezes, and it feels as if the world around you disappears. The crowd, the lights, even Jinx—all fade away, leaving you alone in that dark place where time doesn’t move. The ground beneath your feet seems to give way, and you feel yourself falling again into that abyss of the past.

"Hey, hey!" Jinx’s voice cuts through the fog in your mind. Her hands grip your shoulders, and her gaze searches for yours with desperation. "You’re not there, do you hear me? You’re here, with me."

Her words feel distant, but the warmth of her hands somehow anchors you, reminding you that you’re not alone. "But... the sound..." you murmur, barely audible, as tears start to fall down your cheeks. "It was the same... the same as that night."

Jinx guides you to a quieter corner, away from the noise, holding your hand firmly. "Breathe, hon, like we always do," she says softly, her voice tinged with controlled urgency. "Fill up those lungs, okay? Like we’re balloons."

You try to follow her instructions, but every time you close your eyes to concentrate, the images of that night hit you with renewed force. "It’s not working," you whisper, trembling. "It’s always there. No matter how much I try, it doesn’t go away. It doesn’t go away!" You scream in panic, the fingers of your hands stiffening, making them immobile.

The worry in Jinx’s eyes softens a little, but there’s something else there, something you can only describe as recognition. "That explosion... it reminded me of something too," she says after a moment, her voice quieter, almost a whisper. "I’ve been there, in that fucked-up place, where the ghosts never stop screaming."

Her words are like a key that opens the door to a deeper understanding.

She falls silent for a moment, gazing into the distance before refocusing her attention on you. "When I have my attacks, you’re always there for me, and I remember I’m not alone. That helps me a lot," she admits, a small, almost sad smile curving her lips. "And you’re not alone either, hon. We’re not broken, just a little bent. And here we are, bent together."

The hug she offers you is warm and firm, a tangible reminder that you’re not alone. You feel her strength, her determination, and something else: her own fear, her own struggle. "You don’t have to fight alone," she whispers, her voice a promise. "If you ever feel like you’re going to fall, we’ll fall together. And then, we’ll rise. Always."

You cling to her like a lifeline, letting her warmth and her words anchor you to the present, if only for a moment. "Thank you, sweets," you whisper, allowing yourself, for the first time in a long time, to feel that it’s okay not to be okay.

Vi Anxiety Disorder

The night drags you into the abyss of your mind, but you find no respite. Instead of waking softly to the day, you're trapped in pure panic. Your chest burns, each breath a lost battle. Your heart gallops wildly, as if trying to escape your chest. You are drenched in sweat, the sheets sticking to your skin, becoming yet another prison.

Your eyes snap open, the darkness of the room seems to close in on you, and the silence is deafening. The sensation of suffocation consumes you. You try to gulp down air, but it's as though your lungs have forgotten how to function. Your hands search for something, anything, to anchor you to reality, but all they find is emptiness.

The door swings open abruptly, and Vi stands there, alert, her eyes filled with concern. She doesn't need to ask what’s wrong; she knows instantly. She moves swiftly but carefully, approaching you without frightening you further.

"Breathe with me," she says gently, her hands finding yours, steady yet comforting. "Inhale through your nose... like this... and exhale through your mouth."

You try to follow her, but your body won’t cooperate. Your breath is shallow, frantic, as though every breath disintegrates before it even reaches your lungs. Tears begin to streak down your cheeks, mixing with the sweat.

"Vi... I can’t... I can't... I’m scared," you stammer, your words broken by sobs. Your mind is caught in a loop of terror, every thought spiraling downward, taking you further away from calm.

Vi sits beside you on the bed, her voice low and constant. "Don’t be afraid. Listen to my voice. I’m here with you, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you." Her tone is firm, anchoring you in the present, pulling you out of the tide of your own fear.

"But it hurts... my chest... I can't breathe..." Your body trembles, and your hands clutch desperately at her grasp. The feeling of control slipping away is overwhelming, leaving you feeling helpless.

Vi pulls you into an embrace, holding you close, offering her calm, her strength. "This is temporary. It won’t last forever," she whispers in your ear. "Trust me. Focus on me."

Slowly, very slowly, her voice cuts through the fog of your mind. You begin to breathe more deeply, following her rhythm, feeling how her presence stabilizes you, like a lighthouse in the storm. The pain in your chest begins to lessen, the pressure relents just a little, and your body starts to remember how to breathe without fighting.

Vi continues to speak, her voice a soft murmur, calming you with every word. "You’re strong. You have control, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now."

The tears still flow, but now they are tears of relief, not fear. "Don’t leave... don’t leave. I need you here," you whisper, your voice broken but sincere.

Vi strokes your hair, her other hand gently squeezing yours. "I’m not going anywhere, little doe," she says affectionately, kissing your forehead, tasting the salty remnants of your sweat.

You remain in her arms a moment longer, allowing yourself to rest, letting her strength hold you as you regain your own. Gradually, the panic fades, leaving only exhaustion and the certainty that Vi will always be by your side, no matter how dark the nights may get.

Caitlyn Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)

The silence in the apartment is deafening. The only sound that breaks the stillness is the relentless ticking of the wall clock, its rhythm echoing in your ears like a hammer. You’re in the kitchen, eyes fixed on the glasses you’ve meticulously arranged in the cupboard. Each glass must be perfectly spaced, each one aligned to the exact same level. Symmetry isn’t just a preference—it’s a necessity. If something is out of place, you feel as though the whole world could collapse.

Your breathing is uneven, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. "One, two, three..." you murmur to yourself, counting each movement. Your hands tremble, but you can’t stop. You can’t stop. If you do, something terrible will happen. You don’t know what, but the certainty that it will be catastrophic clings to you like a shadow.

Caitlyn enters the apartment after a long day at work. Her expression shifts instantly when she sees you in the kitchen, trapped in your own ritual. She stops in the doorway, watching you with a mix of concern and sadness. It’s not the first time she’s found you like this, but each time, it hurts her as though it were.

"Darling?" Her voice is soft, as if afraid to shatter you. She steps closer, carefully setting her hat down on the table. "What are you doing?"

You don’t answer at first, your eyes still fixed on the glasses. "Almost done... just a few more minutes," you whisper, your voice trembling. You can’t stop. Every glass moved, every small adjustment is a battle between reason and irrational fear.

Caitlyn stops beside you, her eyes scanning the scene, seeing the perfect pattern you’ve created. "You don’t have to do this," she says gently, yet firmly.

Your hands freeze for a moment, but the urge to continue is too strong. "You don’t understand... if I don’t do it right, if they’re not perfectly aligned, something bad is going to happen." Tears begin to well up in your eyes, the pressure in your chest intensifying. "I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, but it’s like my mind... it can’t stop."

Caitlyn takes a deep breath, her hand reaching out to touch your shoulder delicately. "You’re not crazy," she says, locking eyes with you. "I know this is hard, that your mind doesn’t give you peace. But you don’t have to face it alone. Let me help you."

You turn to look at her, your eyes filled with desperation. "I can’t stop, Cait. If I do, I feel like everything will fall apart. I can’t control what’s happening inside my head."

Caitlyn nods slowly, her gaze unwavering from yours. "I know, darling. And I know this won’t be fixed in a day. But I’m here, and I’m going to stay by your side. We’ll face it together."

Her words anchor you, a beacon in the storm that is your mind. Slowly, almost against your will, your hands begin to lower, moving away from the glasses. The fear is still there, a current running just beneath the surface, threatening to overwhelm you, but Caitlyn is beside you, her presence a reminder that you’re not alone.

"Breathe with me," she says, her voice soft and steady. "Inhale... exhale... together."

You follow her instructions, though your lungs seem to resist, full of anxiety. Caitlyn guides you, her hand never leaving your shoulder. "See? We’re doing it! You’re doing it!" She encourages, kissing your neck when she notices you’ve looked away from the glasses for five seconds. It was only five seconds, but Caitlyn knew it was a huge accomplishment, and she celebrated it.

You let out a small sigh, the tension in your muscles easing slightly. Your hands travel to Caitlyn’s waist, moving her so the glasses are no longer in your line of sight. You let your head fall against her chest, breathing in her scent. It’s so much better, especially when you start counting the beats of her heart.

"How brave my wonderful and glorious girlfriend is. I’m so proud of you," she whispered, her fingers weaving through your hair as she praised you.

"Cait, I love you so much. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me," you whisper against her warm chest, unwilling to leave that comforting refuge.

Caitlyn chuckles softly, and it feels like music to your ears.

"I feel the same way, darling," Caitlyn replied, gently swaying your bodies from side to side in a small rhythm.

You know that your compulsions won’t disappear, that the need for control will remain, but with Caitlyn, you feel like you can face it one day at a time.

Jayce Narcissistic Personality Disorder

The mirror in your room is your judge, jury, and executioner. Every imperfection is a sentence, every flaw a conviction. You spend hours in front of it, adjusting, retouching, trying to reach a perfection that always seems to slip through your fingers. Your heart beats fast, not from excitement, but from the constant fear that the world will see the cracks beneath your flawless facade.

Jayce enters quietly, his presence comforting and, at the same time, a threat. What will he think? Does he notice the imperfections you see? He steps closer, his gaze soft, but you feel the weight of his eyes as if he's scrutinizing every flaw.

"Love, it's late. Come to bed," he says in a calm voice, trying to distract you from your self-destructive spiral.

"Just one more moment," you reply without looking at him, your focus still on the mirror, searching for symmetry in your features, perfection in the unattainable.

Jayce sits on the edge of the bed, watching you. "You've been here for hours. You don't have to do this. You're beautiful just as you are."

His statement, though well-intentioned, feels like a white lie. "You don’t understand, Jayce," you murmur, your voice trembling with suppressed frustration. "If I’m not perfect, I’m nobody. I can’t let them see my flaws. I can't let… you see them."

Jayce stands, walking toward you carefully, as if approaching a flickering flame. "You don’t have to be perfect to be loved," he says, his words a whisper in the storm raging in your mind. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, least of all to me."

Your gaze finally meets his through the reflection. Tears fight their way out, but you can't allow such weakness. "It's not that simple," you whisper. "Every day, every look, every word, it’s all a test. And if I fail…"

Jayce places his hands on your shoulders, his eyes filled with compassion and infinite patience. "If you fail, I’ll be here to lift you up."

"And what if I’m not enough?" The question slips out before you can stop it, the insecurity behind your narcissism showing in all its rawness. "What if one day you realize you deserve something better?"

Jayce leans in, his forehead touching yours, a gesture so intimate it almost breaks you. "I deserve someone who loves me for who I am, not for what I pretend to be. And that’s exactly what you are to me. I don’t have impossible expectations of you. I just want you to be happy, to find peace in who you are."

The internal struggle within you is fierce. The fear of rejection, the desire for perfection, the need to be seen and admired, all mix together in a whirlwind that consumes you. But in Jayce's arms, for a moment, the noise silences. His love is not a chain, but a refuge, one that offers rest if only you can let yourself fall into it.

"How can you be so sure?" you ask, your voice broken but curious.

"Because I love you," he answers without hesitation. "And love isn’t about waiting for perfection. It’s about accepting every part of you, even the ones you think are flaws."

The tears finally make their way out, releasing something within you that has been held back for so long. Jayce holds you as you cry, whispering words of comfort, letting all the pressure, fear, and anguish flow out of you.

"You’re perfect," you whisper, your voice cracked but full of sincerity. In your mind, Jayce is the epitome of everything you don’t believe you are: strong, confident, unshakable.

Jayce smiles softly, his hand caressing your cheek, wiping away the tears still falling. "No, I’m just a man in love. A man who loves you madly." His voice is warm, filled with a tenderness that disarms you. "Why don’t you show me that precious smile of yours? Please, it would make me so happy."

His sweet words touch your heart, and the corners of your lips stretch on their own, forming a sad smile.

"Gorgeous," Jayce murmured, caressing your lips with his strong, calloused fingers.

"Flatterer," you reply with a more elaborate smile, your eyes still wet, but now with a different shine, one that reflects the spark of hope he’s ignited in you.

"I’m just stating facts. I’m a scientist, honey, so I can tell you that, from my perspective, it’s scientifically proven that you’re gorgeous," he commented wryly, a wit that made you laugh.

Jayce smiled and kissed your forehead, holding you firmly in his arms. Finally, you feel like you can breathe, like air is filling your lungs again without that constant weight on your chest.

Ekko Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)

The room is silent except for the soft hum of music playing in the background, but your mind cannot stop racing. Your thoughts scatter like arrows shot in every direction. You try to focus on something, anything, but it feels as though your brain is in a constant battle between the ideas that come and go. The light from the lamp flickers irregularly, and for a moment, you wonder if the bulb is about to explode. This makes no sense, you know that, but the unease lingers.

You quickly get up from the bed, taking a misstep, tripping over a chair you hadn’t seen, barely avoiding it. Your heart races. Everything is a series of chaotic jumps in your head, an endless torrent of thoughts that can’t follow a single path. You look at the desk, with papers scattered about—unfinished projects, ideas you can’t ground. Everything calls to you, but you can’t focus on anything.

Your hands tremble slightly as you grab the pen and begin to write down an idea that came to you, but before you finish the sentence, a new image flashes in your mind. You stop, leaving the pen on the desk and staring out the window. Something about the glow of the stars makes you think of something else. You can’t concentrate. Everything distracts you, even the small noises you used to never notice. It’s so annoying.

Suddenly, you feel the stress begin to accumulate in your shoulders. It’s not just the lack of concentration; it’s the sense of constantly running toward something without ever arriving. You try to finish a task, but more and more thoughts pile up, projects, things that need doing. Everything seems urgent, and nothing seems possible to complete. Anxiety settles in your chest.

You’re about to get up again when you hear the sound of the door opening behind you. Ekko enters the room, his calming presence is the only thing that makes you stop for a moment. He watches you in silence for a few seconds, noticing the frenzy of your movements. You hadn’t realized, but your breathing is irregular, and you’ve gotten up twice without purpose. Something isn’t right.

He watches you quietly, understanding the internal struggle you’re facing. He knows what this means, what it costs you every day.

“What’s going on? Why are you so worked up?” he asks, his voice soft but with enough authority to make you stop and listen.

Your eyes focus on a fixed point, but you can’t find the words to explain what you’re feeling. You don’t know how to put into words what’s happening. It’s like you’re trapped in a cycle of thoughts that never stop.

“My mind... it doesn’t stop moving,” you finally manage to say, almost in a whisper. “Every time I try to do something, it’s like something else distracts me. Nothing stays. Everything slips away.”

Ekko watches you silently for a moment, understanding the fight you’re facing. He knows exactly what this feels like.

“I get it, babe,” he responds, his tone firm but gentle. “I know your mind’s all over the place right now, but I promise we can do this one step at a time. We’ll focus on one thing at a time, no pressure. Sound good?”

The fact that Ekko is offering to be there, without judgment, brings you relief. You know that the impulsiveness you feel, the urge to move without a plan, is something that consumes you. Your mind jumps from one thought to another, and each of those thoughts feels like an urgent need, an immediate necessity. But at the same time, nothing makes sense. Everything is scattered and out of control.

“It’s just that...” your words fade into the air, unable to be completed. You feel trapped in your own body, in your own brain. You can’t stop, but you can’t move forward either.

Ekko gently places a hand on your shoulder, his touch calming. “How can we start?” he asks sincerely, not rushing you. “Tell me what you need.”

For a moment, everything seems to stop. The flood of thoughts quiets down, and for the first time in a long while, you can think clearly, even if it’s just for an instant. It’s not about having everything figured out right away; it’s about feeling that someone is there, willing to stand by you while you navigate through the mental whirlwind.

“I just... I don’t know how to do it without jumping from one thing to another,” you murmur, frustration and shame creeping into your voice. “I feel like everything’s overwhelming, and I can’t focus on anything.”

“We’ll take it slow,” Ekko replies, his tone calm and direct. “First, breathe. The first step is to breathe, and then we can start with just one thing. The rest can wait.”

You close your eyes for a moment and follow his words. You breathe deeply, slowly, trying to find the balance that always seems so hard to reach. Ekko is there, not rushing you, waiting for your mind to settle. With his help, little by little, you manage to focus on one small task, one that’s manageable enough not to overwhelm you. It’s just one step, but it’s a step toward calm.

“You don’t have to do it all right now,” Ekko says softly. “What matters is that you’re not alone in this. We’ll go step by step.”

You feel the knot in your stomach loosening, even though there’s still much to do. But at this moment, with him by your side, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you can find a way toward a little peace.

After hours of work and soft laughter, you’re sitting on the floor, with Ekko beside you, both looking at the pieces left to place in a puzzle. It’s almost complete, the pieces fitting perfectly, and though the hours have flown by, you feel lighter, the atmosphere quieter.

“One more,” Ekko says with a smile, holding up a piece in the air. He passes it to you, and together, you place it in its spot, completing the picture. The puzzle is done, and though it’s a small accomplishment, it feels more meaningful than it seems. Not just because of what you’ve completed, but because you’ve managed to feel centered, accompanied.

When you look at the drawing you had left unfinished, now finally complete, you feel a deep sense of satisfaction. Ekko helped bring to life the image that only existed in your mind, his hands working alongside yours, following every line with care.

“You did it,” Ekko says, his eyes shining with pride. “My girl is incredible.” He pulled you into his lap and kissed your forehead.

You look at him, your heart beating a little faster. The fatigue of the afternoon washes over you, but you don’t care. All that matters is that he’s here, by your side, and that, for once, you feel at peace. The air feels lighter, as if the space between you two has been reduced, softened by the stillness of the moment.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your words barely a whisper, but full of gratitude.

Ekko turns toward you, his expression softening. “Don’t thank me. Thank yourself. You’re the one who made it happen, not me.”

The way he looks at you, the way his presence has become part of your space, makes you smile. And, in a moment of impulse, without thinking too much about it, you move a little closer. He seems to understand it instantly, and before you can second-guess yourself, his lips brush against yours. It’s a soft kiss, no rush, no urgency, just a moment where words aren’t needed.

When you pull away, both of you stay there, looking at each other, the air between you charged with something that doesn’t need to be named. Ekko smiles, his eyes sparkling with that glint that makes you feel as though everything is right, as if the world, for a moment, is in its place.

“Everything’s okay now,” Ekko says softly, filling you with calm.

And in that instant, you believe him.

Silco Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)

The air in Silco's office is thick with tension, as always. The sound of the bustling city echoes through the glass windows, but inside, everything is still, almost as rigid as the gaze Silco fixes on you. You're sitting across from him, feeling a familiar dizziness, as if everything is out of control and, at the same time, you're trapped in an empty space. A mix of confusion and anxiety courses through every fiber of your being.

Your hands tremble slightly, and although you try to control your breathing, each inhalation seems to sink you further into the internal chaos. The voices in your head blend together, demanding answers, claiming something you can't give. Silco watches you calmly, but it's a cold, calculated calm, as if everything that's going on inside you is a game he knows how to play.

You feel the emptiness consuming you, and yet an unbearable pressure weighs on your chest. Your mind betrays you, throwing destructive thoughts at you, telling you you're worthless, that everything you do is doomed to fail. The contradiction is overwhelming: on one hand, you feel lost, and on the other, you refuse to give in to the feeling of helplessness.

"Are you alright?" Silco asks, his voice low and steady, but there's a slight intensity in his tone. He doesn't break eye contact, as if he's evaluating every micro-expression on your face, every movement. He knows you're not, but still, he asks. Is it a test? A need to know how far you can go? The silence stretches on, and your thoughts only intensify.

The urge to stand up and run from it all is strong. Everything in you screams to follow your impulses, to escape, to flee from the overwhelming weight of it all. But you stay there, because something in you knows that running will only plunge you deeper into the darkness you're feeling inside. You see yourself fighting, trying to maintain control, but every second makes you feel more lost.

"I'm sorry... I don't know what's happening to me," you whisper, your voice broken, struggling against the avalanche of emotions threatening to drown you. You feel the tears pressing behind your eyes, but you force yourself to keep composure. "It's just... it's all so intense. So confusing."

Silco keeps watching you in silence. There's no judgment in his gaze, only a calculated assessment, as if he's reading between the lines of your suffering. After a long moment, he sighs and stands up from his chair, approaching you slowly. It's not a sudden gesture, but calm, as if he's used to dealing with people who struggle with their own minds. He says nothing, but his presence is the only thing anchoring you in this moment.

With one hand, he takes yours. The contact is firm, but not aggressive, as if he's giving you space to breathe, but also space to not escape. In his eyes, something changes. There's an understanding that you can't fully decipher, but it fills you with a strange sensation, like, for the first time in a long time, you're not alone in the storm raging inside you.

"Your mind is betraying you," Silco says calmly, his voice soft but full of an authority that makes you feel that everything happening has a purpose. "It's an enemy that everyone must face at some point. But you don't have to face it alone."

The words fall on you like a stone, but strangely, they allow you to relax, even if only for a moment. The internal chaos you've always felt halts for an instant. And in that silence, you're finally able to breathe.

"All of this... this emptiness, the feeling that nothing matters, it's not your fault," Silco continues, his tone firm, though not without a strange gentleness. "It's just a phase, a moment that will pass. But you need to control it. Not let it take over you."

You feel vulnerable, but at the same time, a part of you relaxes in his closeness. Silco doesn't tell you that it's okay, nor does he promise easy solutions. He speaks to you with reality, with that harshness that you know comes from someone who understands suffering, but who doesn't have time to sugarcoat the truth.

"What you're feeling is real, but it's also transient. Not everything is as final as you think," he adds, his gaze fixed on yours with intensity. "You can be stronger than this."

The words resonate in your mind as you take a deep breath. You don't know if you fully believe them, but for some reason, in this moment, the darkness feels less imposing. You're not completely free of it, but at least you feel you're not entirely alone. Silco is here, firm and without judgment, waiting for you to take control of your own mind, without expecting you to do it immediately, but giving you the possibility to believe that you'll manage.

The pressure in your chest doesn't disappear completely, but a small crack of calm starts to open within you. And though you know your inner struggles won't end immediately, for the first time in a long while, you don't feel as lost. Silco looks at you one last time, without haste, but with a silent certainty.

"When you're ready, you can get out of this. I'll be here."

You're surprised by how firm his voice sounds, as if, by saying it, he's committed to being a constant presence. And although you don't fully understand how he does it, you realize that, in this moment, his steadiness helps you more than any empty words of comfort.

The world continues around you, but somehow, Silco has given you the strength to face it.

The silence between you and Silco lingers for a moment, but it's no longer the same silence as before. There's a strange peace, almost comforting, in the way he holds you, in the closeness you now feel between you both. The contact of his hand, firm and steady, gives you an anchor amidst the storm that still rages inside you.

A sigh escapes your lips without you noticing, and for a moment, it's not one of despair, but of relief. Silco, still keeping his gaze fixed on you, takes one more step closer. It's not a quick or rushed step, but a calculated one, as if he's sure that, in this moment, the only thing you need is that closeness, that calm presence.

Without saying anything, his fingers gently caress your cheek, a soft gesture that cuts through you. There's a tenderness in his movements that you hadn't anticipated, something that seems in complete contradiction with the person you know, but that, in this moment, comforts you more than any words. You feel vulnerable, but you don't fear it, not now.

Your breathing gradually calms, and Silco, silently, moves a little closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body. The space between you is almost nonexistent now, and you can feel his breath in rhythm with yours. There's something in his presence that soothes you, that gives you the feeling that everything will be okay, even though it still feels hard to believe.

Finally, his lips come close to yours with an unexpected softness. It's not a hasty or desperate kiss, but something slower, more measured. The brush of his lips against yours is so gentle that it surprises you, as if he's waiting for you to accept it, for you to be ready. And you are. Though your mind is still filled with doubts and fears, something inside you tells you that this is the moment you can allow yourself to be vulnerable, that you can receive something that won't hurt you.

The kiss deepens slowly, and in that instant, the world seems to fade away around you. All that remains is the warmth of his body, the firmness of his arms around you, and the gentle contact of his lips, like a silent promise that, even though the future is uncertain, for a moment, everything is alright.

When you finally pull away, no words are needed. Silco looks at you with an intensity you've never seen before, but in his eyes, there's something more, something you can't describe, something that makes you feel that, despite everything you've been through, you're not alone.

"I told you you were strong," he whispers, his voice deep and soft at the same time.

And for a moment, everything seems enough.

Mel Chronic Stress Disorder

The atmosphere is thick with tension, but it's a different kind of tension. It's a quiet calm, yet at the same time, it is filled with the constant threat of what could happen. You’re there, in one of the rooms of the mansion, sitting on a chair by the window, gazing out at the illuminated city, but unable to really see anything. The world around you seems to blur, as if a layer of fog has settled over your senses, blurring every detail and leaving only the emptiness of your thoughts.

Mel, who has been watching your behavior for the past few minutes, approaches with a palpable gentleness in her movements. Her presence is firm, but not intrusive. From a distance, she’s observed how the symptoms of your chronic stress have taken over you, how anxiety and mental exhaustion have combined to make you feel beyond your limits.

She crouches slightly to be at your level, her eyes fixed on yours, searching for your attention. “I notice you’re not yourself, and I know it’s because the weight of everything has piled up,” she says in a low voice, her tone soft yet firm. “But I want you to listen. You have the right to rest. You don’t have to carry the world, not all the time.”

Despite her words, you feel a pressure in your chest that won’t ease. Everything feels too big, too heavy. Chronic stress consumes you, leaving your thoughts tangled while your body responds with a deep exhaustion that doesn’t seem to go away no matter what you do.

Mel, noticing the internal struggle that consumes you, steps closer and, without warning, places a firm hand on your shoulder. It’s not a gesture of force, but of support. A sign that she’s here, silently, but available to help you find the balance you need.

“Your body is telling you it needs to stop,” she continues, with a softness that’s hard to deny. “Those moments of despair, of exhaustion... they’re real. But you don’t have to go through it alone, no matter how much you think you can.”

The contact of her hand on you, her quiet strength, begins to offer some relief. Even though the weight still lingers, something in you relaxes. It’s as if her words offer you a rope to hold onto, something tangible in the fog that seems to surround your mind.

You lean forward, your fingers briefly touching your forehead as you try to calm the agitation still coursing through you. The stress, that constant pressure in your life, seems unwilling to let go of you, but at least in this moment, with Mel by your side, you can breathe a little more deeply.

“I’ll be here,” Mel whispers, like an unbreakable promise. “If you need to rest, I’ll help you find peace. You don’t have to go on alone.”

For the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to think that, maybe, it’s possible to let go of some of that burden. Mel’s voice, soft yet full of certainty, is a refuge in the midst of the chaos in your mind.

Mel doesn’t expect you to feel guilty for your exhaustion. She doesn’t demand that you change or “overcome” your chronic stress overnight. She only gives you space to feel what you need to feel and to acknowledge that, even though the road may be long, you don’t have to walk it alone.

When your eyes lift and meet hers, there’s something in your gaze that softens. The stress doesn’t vanish immediately, but the simple fact that someone understands you, that someone is staying with you without judging, gives you something you didn’t have before: the possibility of healing.

The silence between you both is comfortable. It’s a silence of acceptance and understanding. And as Mel remains by your side, her presence becomes something that offers comfort, not an immediate solution, but a step toward the calm you so desperately need.

After a long silence, Mel slowly approaches you, and her eyes, filled with softness and understanding, capture you. She takes your hand, with a delicacy that makes you feel lighter, as if the weight of your mind could lessen just with that contact.

“You know, right?” she whispers, her voice gentle but firm. “I’ve seen you fight, and still, you’re here, being so incredible. And to me, that’s what really matters. Not everything you’ve been through, but who you are now.”

The sparkle in her eyes makes you blush slightly, and your heart beats a little faster.

“Mel...” you whisper, barely able to find the words, feeling your nerves breaking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

She smiles, moving closer. “I’m here, for whatever you need, for anything, always.”

Without saying another word, Mel gently caresses your cheek, as if every movement is a silent promise. Then, you see her lean in toward you, her face so close to yours that you can feel the brush of her breath.

“You’re my refuge, you know that, right?” Mel says, with sincerity that runs deep within you.

And without another word, her lips find yours, in a tender, almost urgent kiss, as if she wanted to convey everything she couldn’t with words. When she pulls away, her eyes shine with an unmistakable softness.

“I love you, with all my being. And that won’t change.”

You shiver slightly at her words, but instead of insecurity, you find comfort. Her eyes transmit calm to you, and for the first time, you realize that she’s willing to be the peace you so need.

Sevika Bipolar Disorder

The darkness surrounds you, but it’s not physical darkness; it’s something denser, creeping through every corner of your mind. It’s one of those days. You don’t know for sure, but you feel it deep in your gut: something has changed. There’s a void in your chest that you don’t know how to fill, and a sensation in your stomach that twists you up. You’ve been through this before. The bipolar disorder drags you, takes you as its own without warning, pushing you from one extreme to the other in a matter of hours, minutes.

You wake up feeling the weight of sadness, a sadness that feels physical, sinking you into the mattress as if the sheets were lead. You don’t want to move, think, or do anything. You just feel empty, as if all your strength has evaporated. The room seems smaller, the walls pressing in on you. Your legs don’t respond when you try to get up. A knot forms in your throat, but the tears won’t come. There’s no energy for that, just the weight of despair.

You don’t see her enter. Her presence is silent, but solid. Sevika knows something is wrong, she feels it even before you tell her. When you look at her, her expression doesn’t change, but there’s something in her eyes that makes you feel that the situation is serious. There’s no surprise, no fear, just a cold, calculating understanding. Sevika isn’t one to lose her calm easily. And that makes you even more confused, making you feel like you don’t belong in that moment, like you’re not the person she expects to see.

“What’s going on?” she asks, not softening anything. The question isn’t condescending, nor filled with concern. It’s direct, almost harsh, she doesn’t beat around the bush. She knows that, when you’re like this, empty words don’t help.

You struggle to form a response. You can’t, really. Your thoughts are tangled in an incomprehensible chaos. But she doesn’t expect you to explain anything. Sevika approaches, sits on the edge of the bed. Her gaze never leaves you, as if she’s evaluating your soul, searching for a point of vulnerability, a sign of what to do next. She has the ability to see beyond your emotions, beyond the depression that consumes you and the anxiety that makes you tremble. She knows that right now there’s nothing rational in your mind, but understanding is her only response. Patience mixes with a slight touch of toughness, as she always does with things she can’t control.

“You’re staying here. You’re not going to do anything impulsive. You’re not going to try to run out of here or make this worse,” she says with a calm coldness that leaves no room for objection. You know that, in this moment, she’s the only voice of reason you can hear.

You’re aware that Sevika is used to dealing with extreme situations, but this one is different. She watches you closely, but from a distance, as if she’s weighing the damage, calculating what she can do to keep you safe. You don’t see fear in her, but you see resolve. She doesn’t switch into “rescuer mode,” she doesn’t try to hug you or tell you that everything will be fine. What she says, she says with authority because she knows that if she gives in, chaos will take control, and everything she’s worked to keep stable will fall apart.

In the internal struggle between your broken mind and the anger that begins to build up inside of you, Sevika is the rock that keeps you from diving into the void. But she also knows she can’t ignore your emotions. Her expression hardens slightly when she realizes there’s something more going on. “I’m telling you this because you know it, not because I need to explain it to you,” she whispers, making it clear that there’s no room for games.

When you finally speak, it’s in whispers, as if your words have weight and could break you. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m... I’m so tired of this constant back and forth. I can’t handle it.”

Sevika doesn’t change her posture. She doesn’t tell you that she’s going to “fix” you, nor does she try to cure you. She knows that what you have doesn’t have an easy fix, but she does have tools to deal with the situation. “You don’t need to fix anything right now. You need to rest. Let what’s going to happen, happen, but don’t make decisions you’ll regret later. Do you understand me?” her voice is firm, but underneath there’s something else, a touch of softness she rarely shows.

The air in the room is heavy, laden with the weight of your thoughts, like a fog that prevents you from seeing beyond. Sevika is there, watching you with the same intensity as always, but with an odd calm, a calm that scares you because it makes you feel like she sees it all: the chaos consuming you, the internal battle between despair and rage.

“I don’t want this to control me. I don’t want to be like this,” you murmur, the words coming out broken. You know you’re saying it more to yourself than to her, but still, the guilt pierces your chest like invisible needles. You feel like you’re not being who she expects.

Sevika stays silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on you. There’s something in her face, a line of tension in her jaw, as if she’s weighing every word before speaking. Finally, she gets a little closer, breaking the distance between your bodies.

“It’s not about what you expect from yourself. It’s about what you need right now. And what you need right now is rest, stop fighting against something you can’t control.”

Your eyes search hers, those eyes that always seem to understand more than you can verbalize. And, somehow, you feel that there’s no judgment in them, just a silent acceptance of what you’re going through. It’s strange. In the middle of the storm in your mind, Sevika gives you the feeling of being the only anchor left in your world.

Suddenly, she stretches out a hand toward you, not rushing, not in a hurry, but with the firmness that characterizes her. You take it without thinking, as if it’s the only thing that can stop the flood of erratic thoughts flooding your mind. Her touch is warm, comforting. There’s a strength in that simple gesture, something that allows you to relax, even if just for a second.

“I’m going to take care of you, understand?” she whispers, her voice low, barely a breath. There are no empty promises in her words, just a statement of fact. But in her tone, you find a softness that she rarely shows. It’s like, for a brief moment, her heart opens a little more, even if she doesn’t fully recognize it.

The moment stretches on, and even though the storm in your mind hasn’t ceased, there’s something in you that feels a little lighter. Sevika doesn’t have the solution to your pain, but her presence, her closeness, gives you a peace you never even imagined.

Without thinking, you move a little closer to her, seeking that warmth. Her fingers interlace with yours, and for the first time all day, you don’t feel completely broken. Sevika has never promised you a happy ending, but in this moment, you don’t need one. The simple fact of being here, of having her close, gives you a reason to keep going, even if just for a little while longer.

“I love you,” you say without thinking, and the words come out with a clarity that surprises you. It’s not a grand declaration, it’s not a promise that everything will be okay, but it’s something real, something you never thought you could say to anyone before.

“I love you too, doll,” she responds with a half-smile, though her eyes seem softer than ever. And, for a second, the world seems to stop. The anxiety, the disorder in your head, dissipate, if only for a brief moment.

She leans in a little toward you, and in that instant, all that matters is the touch of her lips on your forehead, a simple gesture but filled with affection. The silence between you both is comfortable, no pressure, just the comfort of being together, knowing that, even if the world around you falls apart, Sevika will be the one to keep you steady.

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savanir · 1 day ago

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Danyal- or well, Daniel now he supposes, seeing as none of these “kind” strangers can pronounce his name right. Has found himself a golden opportunity to hopefully get back to where he actually belongs.

His current predicament was anything but what he could have ever imagined happening to him. He remembers an attack, an assassination attempt on him and his twin. He remembers taking a hit meant for Dami, he remembers the electricity coursing through his body from the weapon the assassin used and so graciously left in his abdomen, meant to make his body seize which would make attempts to keep him from dying just a little bit harder, and his death just that little bit more painful.

After that he vaguely remembers falling, and then burning green.

Next thing he knows he’s in a foreign place with foreign people trying to “help”.

Wherever he is he’s certainly not anywhere near Nanda Parbat.

But he’ll get back, and the easiest way to do so is to secure transportation and funding.

Which shouldn’t be hard as soon as he’s “convinced” this random rich guy to adopt him.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Oliver is starting to regret the brilliant PR idea of sponsoring and supporting the new improved Star City foster care system.

In and of itself that’s of course a very good thing, and absolutely something he cares about and is happy to spend his money on, but these things should just be a given, just a thing that’s done because it’s the right thing to do.

Can’t just do that of course… we have to make a huge spectacle about it, showcase some poor but very adorable kids in need of a loving family. make a big party about it.

Oliver is vaguely reminded of pet adoption days that some animal shelters do. Also a good thing he’s in full support of, but that’s animals, and these are actual children.

The thought is making it rather hard to keep a pleasant smile on his face. Thankfully he’s very effectively being distracted by the little guy who somehow managed to attach himself to his leg and refuses to let go.

Oliver looks down.

The boy with the biggest most blue eyes looks up.

There are cameras and reporters and Oliver can feel the bad decision creeping up and the voice in the back of his head screaming, “don’t do it. DON’T DO IT”

Oliver lifts the boy up, “hey there little man, what is your name?”

He gets a big smile in return and the bad decision suddenly doesn’t seem so bad anymore, weird.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Roy had been talking, or well, it was more like venting to Dinah about something Oliver had done, or said, maybe both, probably both… When they heard the front door open and was quickly followed by a “Dinah I have a surprise but first you have to promise you won’t get mad”

Which… bad sign, very bad sign, terrible sign.

“Oliver what have you done”

The man walks into the room and proudly shows off his latest impulsive decision, “Congratulations, it’s a boy!”

…That’s a whole ass kid.

“Oliver Jonas Queen! you did not!”

But he did and that choice changes everything.

#Danny actually already is a halfa cause of the electricity that killed him and the pit healed him and then spat him out near Star City #So no Fentons here But Danny gets a red head older sibling anyway #Roy thought he'd be more upset with a sudden new ''sibling'' but he's actually kind of okay with it #probably cause Danny is very young #Dinah doesn't know what to do with this idiot of a man #Things are going to get really complicated later down the line #cause you know... Batman #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #green arrow #oliver queen #dcxdp fic idea

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ramshacklefey · 1 day ago

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Wait hang on this actually got me thinking about the stuff that leads up to Waternoose (ohhhh shit I just got his name wow) being held accountable:

Mike and Sully realize that the narrative of human children being dangerous is false.

They act against social and legal standards to protect Boo.

They discover that Randall is acting to exploit children in the interests of the company.

They try to inform Waternoose of Randall's actions and discover that he is complicit in them, claiming that he is doing it to protect society from the disaster of having insufficient resources.

They decide to act against Waternoose, the interests of the company, and possibly the interests of their society as a whole, because all of those things are dependent on causing harm to and exploitation of another group.

The government agency responsible for protecting Monster society from the perceived "danger" of human children acts to reveal Waternoose's corruption and hold him accountable, again in spite of the fact that this will destroy the company and cost Monster society their main source of energy.

Mike and Sulley realize that there is an alternative form of energy available that is better than Scream and doesn't require exploiting others.

THE KEY ELEMENT HERE IS THE HEAD OF THE CDA ACTING AGAINST WATERNOOSE.

Roz could have turned a blind eye to Waternoose because his plan would benefit their society in the short term. She had the power to do that. But she chose her duty to protect society from corruption and greed over everything else.

That's what allowed Mike and Sulley to use their new knowledge to improve their society's well-being and prevent the harm being done by the collection of Scream.

Without Roz, Waternoose would have gotten rid of Sulley and Mike, preventing them from realizing that there was an alternate source of energy available. The Scream Extractor was already a solution to the problem, and it's one that fit in with the social belief that children are dangerous!

So, what's the takeaway here?

It's that social/political changes will only come about if:

Ordinary citizens have the knowledge needed to find new ways of doing things;

Those citizens are willing to act against social norms and powerful people to protect others. (And potentially to act on their discoveries. Mike and Sulley had all the pieces they needed to discover the power of laughter before Waternoose was gone. In the story, it didn't come to this, but we can imagine a scenario where they tried to set up a new business in competition to Waternoose.); AND

Those with the power to regulate and hold accountable people like Waternoose actually do so.

When it comes to many current problems in our society, we already have the first two things in place. Our Waternooses are actively working to prevent Number 3 from being a thing. They're to get rid of Number 1 by destroying education systems. They're trying to get rid of Number 2 by convincing people that they're invincible and necessary to the functioning of our society. That there's no hope for change and that trying to change will hurt everyone.

If we want to change things, we have to stop them from doing that. And we can. We have the means to work from the bottom up, to educate and encourage others, and to start forcing that change.

And damn if a kids' movie from 2001 didn't manage to say all that. (I give the corporates who funded the movie no credit for agreeing or supporting that message, but the writers and animators who managed to get the movie past them.)

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 days ago

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Sunshine [14] - Shelter

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Some storms lead one to their shelter.

Word Count: 3758

CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Theo had definitely taken after you when it came to making friends, and you were beginning to think that it had something to do with the fact that you both could speak for hours nonstop once you found someone to listen to you.

And Laura was apparently no exception.

“…And she does speak but only sometimes!” Theo told you as you helped him put his clothes into the small luggage so that you could wash them at the weekend. “And she says Sir Bartholomeow is nice to her too, which is so weird because I thought I was the only one he was nice to! Mommy, how did you know we could be friends?”

You grinned at him. “Moms have superpowers Bean.”

“Do you know um—do you know if Sir Bartholomeow and Cheeto and Popcorn will ever be friends?”

You hissed in a breath, scrunching up your face.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath on that sweetheart,” you said. “Cats and fish aren’t known for being good friends.”

“Maybe we could get a catfish.”

“Bean, that’s not…” you tried to hold back your laughter. “That’s not how names work in the animal world.”

“Sheepdog get along well with sheep,” he pointed out and you smiled.

“Good point, my little genius,” you said, ruffling his hair. “But think about it this way, do you think tiger sharks get along well with tigers?”

Theo thought for a moment. “I don’t think they spend enough time to get along well, one of them is in the ocean and the other one is on land.”

You nodded your head with a laugh, zipping his luggage up.

“Alright,” you said. “Everything seems to be in order, so we can—” you were cut off when you turned to find Laura by the door, half hiding behind the doorframe. You smiled at her softly, and waved at her.

“Hi Laura,” you said before you introduced yourself and she eyed you in complete silence, shifting her weight from one foot to other.

“Laura, this is my mom!” Theo said with a bright smile. “She’s awesome and the best mom in the world!”

You could feel the happiness filling you with warmth in your chest as you squeezed his shoulder in an assuring matter.

“Theo told me all about you,” you told her and her eyes flitted over to Theo before looking up at you again. “Did you like Cheeto and Popcorn? Theo says you’ll look after them for the weekend.”

A small smile twitched her lips before she nodded her head quietly.

“That’s so kind of you,” you told her. “They’ll definitely be happy to have you to keep them company.”

“And they can keep you company,” Theo added. “That way you won’t get bored while I’m away!”

“I’m sure Laura can spend time with her other friends while you’re not here, Bean.”

Laura stole a look at you and shook her head for a moment, a gesture so subtle that you couldn’t even be sure whether you’d seen it or not as if it was an automatic response. You tilted your head in confusion but then the thought hit you; Laura still didn’t have any friends other than Theo. Theo blinked up at you, fixing his glasses and you felt a pang in your stomach, then smiled at Laura.

“Laura,” you said. “Would you like to spend the weekend with Theo and I?”

Theo gasped, a huge smile lighting up his face and Laura’s eyes snapped up to yours before she looked over her shoulder, biting inside her cheek.

“Ask your father, but he knows me,” you said and turned to Theo. “You can go with her, Bean. I’ll wait you two in the car, okay?”

“Mr. Logan isn’t here mommy, he’s away on a mission.”

Oh, that explained his absence.

“I see,” you said. “Is it okay if I call him then, Laura?”

Laura nodded fervently and you grabbed your phone out of your pocket.

“I’ll be right back,” you told them and stepped out of the room to find Logan’s name on your contacts. Your finger hovered over the screen, your heart skipping a beat before you touched the name and took the phone to your ear.

“Hey,” Logan’s voice reached you and you felt a smile pulling at your lips before you frowned to yourself. “Uh…accidental call?”

“Intentional, strange as it sounds,” you said. “Are you busy—”

“No!” he answered too fast. “I’m not, at all.”

“Aren’t you on a mission?”

“It can wait, I can—uh, I can come back.”

You repressed your smile.

“No need for that,” you said. “So as it turns out, Laura still doesn’t have any friends.”

“She has Theo.”

“She only has Theo,” you corrected him. “Which is why I called. Is it cool if Laura stays with us this weekend?”

“What?”

“Yeah I mean, she will apparently be alone while Theo is with me, and I don’t want…” you trailed off. “I don’t want her to feel alone. So?”

There was silence on the other line and you looked at the screen to check whether he was still there;

“Logan?”

“I’m here,” he said. “Sure—I mean sure, but will it be okay for you?”

“Yeah I don’t mind,” you said. “I’ll drop her off on Sunday then?”

“I can pick her up if I’m back by then—”

“It’s fine,” you said. “I can just drop her off at the institute, no worries.”

A momentary silence fell upon you and you cleared your throat.

“Well okay then,” you said after a beat. “Be careful on your mission, whatever it is.”

“You too.”

You pulled your brows together. “Careful on my mission?”

“No just…be careful in general?” he asked and you bit back a smile.

“Sure,” you said. “See you later I guess.”

With that, you hung up the phone and made your way back to the room to peek your head in.

“Good news, you’re staying with us for the weekend,” you told Laura who gave you a bright smile and Theo jumped in his spot with giddiness. “But I’m going to need one of you to carry Cheeto and Popcorn’s tank for me. We can’t possibly leave them here for the weekend.”

You and Theo had your traditions when it came to the weekend, especially since Theo had started attending Professor Xavier’s school. You would have a picnic and feed the ducks by the lake, go home for dinner and on Saturday morning you’d have breakfast with Jamie and Nik and Julie. Laura was still incredibly shy around strangers, but she seemed to be more comfortable around you now because you didn’t push her at all. She and Theo spent the whole breakfast playing with Nik and Jamie’s cat while you had coffee with Jamie, Julie and Nik in the kitchen.

“It’s a trauma response,” Jamie told you. “Very common. Do you know anything about the lab she was raised in?”

“Not really.”

“That’s so fucked up,” Julie whispered, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine how scared she must have been. For years.”

“Is she seeing a therapist?”

“I doubt it,” you said. “I mean I’m sure they’re trying their hardest at the institute but—”

“She needs an actual therapist,” Nik insisted and turned to Jamie. “Can you make that happen?”

“I can ask around in the hospital,” he said. “We’ll need Logan to sign the papers though, if he’s the only parent she has—”

“Logan would be okay with it,” you said. “I’m not sure about Laura though. She grew up in a terrible lab, I doubt she’d be comfortable around doctors.”

“Home therapy?”

“That sounds like a better idea.”

“Poor baby,” Julie pouted. “I want to go and hug her.”

“I actually think Hayes also knows someone,” Jamie said. “How are things between you by the way?”

“Oh it’s fine.”

“Still taking it slow?”

You sipped your coffee and nodded your head.

“He’s very sweet,” you said. “Which is exactly what I need right now.”

“Did you know you can rent magnet cranes?” Julie asked, making all of you turn to her. “The ones they use for construction sites and stuff?”

You blinked a couple of times. “Julie?”

“Yes?”

“How do you know this information?”

“Google.”

“You googled whether they rent magnet cranes?” you asked her and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Just in case you want to fuck with your ex.”

“Jesus—”

“You do realize that they don’t accept driver’s license for those?” Nik asked while Jamie hid his smile behind his hand. “Technically speaking, you’d need to get a crane operator license.”

Julie waved a hand in the air. “Says who?”

“Says OSHA, Julie!”

“Listen, I could get that license,” Julie said. “I’m good with stick—”

“Your sex life is irrelevant to this conversation.”

“Nik.”

“Just saying.”

“Guys,” you interrupted them while Jamie let out a laugh. “Jules, you’re not getting a crane operator license just to mess with Logan.”

“I need a hobby nowadays.”

“Being a crane operator is not a hobby.”

“Not with that attitude it’s not,” Julie muttered and you shook your head, then heaved a sigh.

“There’s no need for that,” you said. “Seriously. I’m completely over him.”

Jamie raised his brows. “Are you though?”

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah, of course. Trust me, I’m so over Logan.”

On Sunday morning, you decided to bake some cookies before Theo and Laura woke up. You figured it would be a nice surprise for them and Laura could take them to school when you dropped her off in the afternoon. You had become very used to being silent in the kitchen so that you wouldn’t wake Theo up, but you had forgotten how Logan had mentioned Laura had all his abilities.

Including hearing even the slightest noise.

When Laura stepped into the kitchen in her pajamas, you looked over your shoulder and shot her a small smile.

“Good morning!” you said. “Sorry if I woke you, but I figured you’d want cookies.”

Laura stole a look at the kitchen, still rubbing her eye before her gaze went back to you.

“Would you like to help me?”

She blinked a couple of times, then nodded and made her way to you, still slightly skittish in her steps. You held up the bowl.

“So I’m guessing you like chocolate chip cookies,” you said. “But today we’re also putting rainbow sprinkles on them. I’m going to roll them into balls and you’ll dip them in sprinkles, does that work?”

Laura nodded her head and you rolled a piece of cookie dough in your palm, then gave it to her. She carefully dipped it in sprinkles and looked up at you with curious eyes as if asking you if she did it right, and you gave her a proud smile.

“Oh my God, you didn’t tell me you used to bake!” you told her. “That’s like, chef quality Laura. Surely you did it before?”

A smile lit up her face and she shook her head vigorously, and you gasped.

“You haven’t?” you asked. “And you’re this good already? Oh you have great talent then, it took me so much time to do it right when I was first learning but look at you!”

Laura’s smile widened and she took a step closer to you as if excited to do the next one, so you rolled another piece of dough before putting it into her palm.

“My favorite one is mint chocolate chip cookies,” you told her. “I have been meaning to try pumpkin ones though, have you ever had them?”

Laura shook her head.

“I had them at a café,” you said. “I feel like they would go well with—wait, Laura! We should make hot chocolate as well, do you like hot chocolate?”

Laura thought for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders, biting inside her cheek.

“Have you ever had hot chocolate before?”

She shook her head and you felt your heart clench before you took a deep breath.

“I’m about to blow your mind,” you told her before you washed your hands and grabbed the milk from the fridge, then poured it into a saucepan and put it on the stove. “So technically speaking, it’s not the healthiest thing in the world but do we care?”

A small giggle escaped from her lips before she shook her head.

“Exactly,” you pointed out. “Thank you. Would you like to sit down?”

She shrugged her shoulders before climbing on a chair and you gave her a piece of dough for her to dip in sprinkles.

“So there’s this diner right around the corner,” you told her. “They make great pancakes, and also their hot chocolate is so good, so I actually asked them what they use and bought the same thing. The diner I work at, our hot chocolate didn’t use to be so good until I made them change it as well. Our cook makes a great pie though, I’ll bring you some the next time I drop Theo off. Have you tried apple pie?”

Laura nodded her head.

“It’s so good, isn’t it?” you asked and took the milk off the stove before you poured it into a mug, put the hot chocolate powder in and grabbed the pack of marshmallows. You put a bunch of them into the mug, then put it in front of Laura.

“Ta daa,” you said. “Let me know if you like it or not.”

Laura blinked a couple of times before she took a sip of it, then her eyes snapped up to yours, surprise written all over her face. You tilted your head.

“Good?”

She nodded her head again, taking another huge sip and you turned to roll another piece of cookie dough in your palm before you heard her small voice.

“…Thank you.”

You could feel the smile pulling at your lips and you turned your head to look at her.

“Anytime honey,” you said, your voice soft. “Thank you for helping me with the cookies. You and I will make a great team, hm?”

The rest of the weekend went in a breeze. After dropping Laura off at the institute, you and Theo returned home and spent the rest of the night watching Theo’s favorite documentaries with his favorite snacks. On Monday morning you dropped him off at the institute as well and couldn’t help but notice that Logan wasn’t around, but you figured the mission was taking longer than he expected.

When you got home from the diner, you were way too tired to even move so you just heated up the food you took home from the diner, and was dozing on the couch when the sound of your phone vibrating on the coffee table snapped you out of your nap and you took a deep breath, then rubbed at your eyes to grab your phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey stranger,” Hayes’s voice reached you, making you smile. “Bad timing?”

“No no, it’s not,” you said, clearing your throat. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much, I’m on a short break,” he said. “How was the weekend with Theo and his friend?”

“Oh it was wonderful!” you said. “I baked her cookies and she thanked me! I take that as a good sign.”

“If there are any leftover cookies, I volunteer as tribute.”

You grinned. “Maybe a couple,” you said. “I can bring them tomorrow if you’re going to drop by the diner.”

“This is the best news I’ve received today,” he said, making you giggle.

“Slow day?”

“I wish.”

“Aw I’m sorry,” you said and heaved a sigh. “Are you okay?”

“Trying to be,” he said. “But hey, uh…I wanted to ask you, what is your opinion on charity galas?”

“That I don’t have the money to even look at one as I walk past it.”

He let out a chuckle. “Would you like to?”

“What?”

“So the board of the hospital is planning this gala for the children in need,” he said. “And I have two tickets, so I was hoping maybe you’d be interested.”

You blinked a couple of times and sat up straighter, rubbing at your eyes again.

“Hayes—”

“If it gets boring we can just leave.”

“No, that’s not it,” you said with a shake of your head. “It’s just…I’m not sure if I’m a—a gala person.”

“What is a gala person?”

“Someone who has been to one before, maybe?”

“That’s nonsense,” he said. “Come on. I can’t promise it’ll be fun, but I can promise I will make it fun.”

You thought for a moment, then bit at your nail.

“And you’re sure you want to take me there?”

“What kind of a question is that?” he asked with a laugh. “Of course! And I think Jamie will be there too by the way, if my presence isn’t enough to convince you.”

“Oh is that how you’re going to play this?”

“I never said I was above bribery and guilt tripping.” You could hear his grin. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

“I can turn it up if you’d like,” he teased you. “Come on, you can’t possibly leave your friend without a date at a gala—”

“Fine,” you said, a giggle climbing up your throat. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he said and you opened your mouth to ask when the gala would be but the knock on the door made you turn your head. You sat up straighter in the couch, then rubbed at your eyes.

“Hayes, is it okay if I call you back?”

“Sure thing,” he said and you hung up, then made your way to the door. You looked through the peephole, your heart skipping a beat as you did and opened the door with a confused frown.

“Logan?”

He was still in his superhero uniform, the cowl pushed back behind his head and even though there were no visible wounds on him, he still had blood on him. He was slouching, leaning on his arm which was against the wall and something in his gaze was so haunted that it made your stomach flip. His eyes searched yours frantically as if trying to make sure you were in fact there and he swallowed thickly.

“Can I come in?”

“Uh…sure,” you said, stepping aside so that he could go inside and you closed the door behind him, then made your way to the living room with him following you like a lost puppy.

“You okay?” you asked even though you knew the answer, and he paused for a moment before he nodded quietly.

“I just…” he motioned at you. “Needed to see you.”

“Why?”

He shook his head slightly and you licked your lips, then took a deep breath.

“I think I still have some of your clothes,” you said. “I’d been meaning to return them but uh—if you want to take a shower or anything, you can. All that blood on you has to feel uncomfortable.”

He nodded again, swaying from one foot to other and you offered him a small smile.

“I’ll give you a towel, come on,” you said and walked to the hallway with him on your tail. After grabbing his clothes from the bottom of your closet, you handed them to him with a towel and he made his way into the bathroom while you went back to the living room, incredibly confused by what tonight was turning into.

When he got out of the shower and made his way to the living room, you were pouring hot water into two cups and you ripped the package of herbal tea bags to put them into cups before walking to the living room as well. His hair was still wet but there was no trace of dried blood on him anymore, and he looked so handsome sitting there that you stared at him for a second, then tried to snap out of it.

“There you go,” you said, putting the cup in front of him then cradled yours with your hand. “It’s sleepy time tea, supposed to calm you down or whatever. Julie recommended it, I’m not sure if it would work on you but…”

“Thanks,” he said curtly, reaching out to take the cup into his hand, his eyes cast on the floor and you thought for a moment.

“So uh…hard mission?”

Logan nodded his head in silence and you cleared your throat.

“Is everyone okay?”

He nodded again and you shifted your weight, leaning back to the table in the middle of the living room before taking a sip of your tea.

“What happened?”

“He—” Logan paused, then shook his head and put the cup back on the small coffee table beside him. “The guy fucked with my head.”

“How?”

That made Logan fall into silence again and you raised your brows, then heaved a sigh.

“You know what Logan, I’m really trying here,” you told him. “I mean I get that you’re from a time where people didn’t believe in therapy or anything, but this whole too tough for emotions macho guy bullshit is getting tiring and—”

“Take me back.”

His voice was so soft, so quiet that it took you by surprise and you pulled your brows together, not even sure that you heard him right.

“What?” you asked and his jaw clenched, his gaze still fixed on the floor.

“Take me back.”

Your heart started pacing in your chest while you gawked at him.

“Logan…”

“I don’t—” he trailed off and shook his head, letting out a breath. “I don’t even have to touch you. I’ll stand outside your door the whole night like a fucking guard dog if you want me to, just…take me back.”

You could feel the warmth spreading through your system and he reached out to gently pull you to himself, wrapping an arm around your waist before he pressed his forehead on your stomach. You raked your fingernails through his hair, softly scratching at his scalp and his arm around you tightened, making you heave a sigh. You knew you were supposed to say something, anything but—

This felt way too peaceful.

“We’re going to have that conversation later, but….” you paused for a moment. “Would you like to stay the night?”

He nodded without lifting his head, your fingers still brushing through his hair and you bit inside your cheek, deep in thought.

Great.

As it turned out, Jamie was right

You were, in fact, not over Logan.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan wolverine #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan x you #james logan howlett #logan xmen #wolverine logan

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thanosscross · 1 day ago

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hiii are you willing to write thanos x reader during lights out protecting the reader? Would love to see how he would protect someone he cares about!! Thank you for taking the time to read this ^_^ btw I love your fics so much

Of course!! I love it! and thank you so much!! I love all of your guy's support!!

I've got you - Choi Su-Bong/Thanos x reader

Summary: During mingle and lights out, you realize how far Thanos is willing to go to protect you.

warnings: Thanos being unhinged murder asf

a/n: It's a lil on the short side, but you best bet once we get those last three episodes the Thanos stories will be much much longer

Playing a death game to try and pay off some of your fathers was not on your bingo card for this year, nor was being the obsession of a murderous purple haired psychopath, and yet here you were. Standing on a spinning platform, Thanos's grip on your wrist was way too tight for your liking, but he claimed it needed to be that tight.

"Two Players" The speaker box displayed happily, You were almost knocked off of your feet by Thanos jerking you to the left sprinting towards the room, right as you got into the doorway you were knocked onto your ass, spinning around by the sheer force of the hit. Before you could process anything your jacket was jerked back and you were being slid back into the room along with the guy who knocked into you. "Wha?.." Before you could ask, you flinched hearing the smack of the mans face smacking against the wall repeatedly before the snap of his neck, you looked over in shock seeing the man's dead body, and Thanos standing over him huffing loudly, splatters of blood on his face. "T-Thanos" You whimpered terrified you were next.

Sitting in the room holding your dinner, you watched as Nam-Gyu and Thanos move their mattresses around to be closer, you protested to them moving yours, but Thanos just lifted your mattress moving it close to his. You just sat annoyed until the lights went out, quickly being replaced by strobe lights, you watched as others moved around in the dark attacking others, as you stumbled back to try and hide, you back into a body that quickly held you in place, feeling rough long fingernails dig into your sides, you immediately knew it wasn't Thanos, struggling desperately, you heard a disgusting squelch noise, and the grip on your arms fell, turning around in shock trying to back you back into another person, this time their grip a lot gentle on your arms holding you place, as the body fell you saw Thanos standing behind the man holding a fork. Your leader grabbed you quickly holding you his chest as he walked you to their base they had set up hidden the best you could in a wide open area.

You hands shook, flinching anytime you heard a noise getting closer, why weren't the guards coming to help? Why were they just letting this happen, as you watched someone slowly creep closer you covered your mouth, trying your best to alert one of the guys standing in front of you of the person. You watched as the younger male, the one who Thanos had called a 'crypto-bitch' charged him head on, he grunted as they both went down, struggling against each other, Your breathing picked up as you watched Thanos struggle for a moment before planting his hands around his neck, you sat frozen, realizing getting away from this man was going to be impossible in the future. You watched as Thanos stood up smirking "Stupid bitch" He spat before turning to look at you "Beauty flower" He stated as he rushed over, cupping your cheeks with his hands, the same hands who just choked the life out of a man, he hugged you tightly before taking your hands in his "You're okay, I took care of it" He whispered pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, you just shook like a leaf against his hug "Are you cold? Nam-Su! Give me your jacket!" He shouted reaching behind him to his friend "It's Nam-Gyu" You corrected him, making the man behind your leader smile sheepishly, earning you a jealous glare from Thanos. As he was handed the extra jacket he tossed it down putting his jacket on you first, and then Nam-Gyu's jacket, you tried to relax in the warmth as Thanos held you close to him, repeatedly telling you he'd never let one of thanos's girls get hurt.

Whenever the lights came back on, you were quick to lay on the floor, trying to stay calm as a guard had their gun trained on you, before you could process anything there was gunfire, thinking you were about to die you let out a sob, not realizing until player 456 started shouting that it was players fighting back. Going to stand up and volunteer Thanos was quick to yank you to the floor "Are you stupid, senorita?" He asked, you frowned a bit, you weren't sensitive, but through the games you'd like to say that you turned to value whatever Thanos thought of you, sadly. "N-No, I just wanted to help" You mumbled "No! You'll stay here and follow the rules to avoid being killed!" He demanded not losing his grip on you. You sat on the stairs for the rest of the night, Thanos's arms tightly wrapped around you as you watched Dae-ho rush in to get ammo packs before hiding, it was only a few minutes after that whenever the guards rushed in, shouting to get on the floor again, Thanos helped you lay flat the best you could before doing the same, you frowned looking over to meet his eyes "I've got you" He whispered grabbing your hand squeezing it tightly.

#t.o.p x reader #thanos x reader #choi seunghyun #choi su bong x reader #squid game thanos #top x reader #squid game #squidgame #thanos squid game

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wtfaniii · 2 days ago

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I can do it alone, but he can also save me

Fem reader x Hwang In-ho / Fem reader x Hwang Jun-ho

Part 1 // Part 2

•Summary: Jun-ho's girlfriend was a decorated policegirl, strong and brave, she, along with Gi-hun were taken to the games to stop them, however, there was a setback in between

•Note: Thanks for the support! Here I bring you the second part of this one shot that is personally one of my favorites.

•Warning: Maybe some drama, Some violence and attempted abuse, ¡Don't worry! this man arrives on time like a prince on a white horse

N/A: I haven't checked this yet, sorry if it has spelling mistakes

Gi-hun had told some participants that the next game would be dalgona, but it was not so and now they were upset with him, surrounding him and complaining about his mistake, calling him a "liar."

—You guys decided to play these games —the girl said standing in front of Gi-hun —Face the consequences and don't expect someone to come and save us.

—He's a fraud! —Player 100 shouted at him, pointing at accusingly and with contempt.

—ibelieve in him word —001 interrupted, standing next to her.

Due to the first impression that the two made on all the players, the complaints immediately stopped and retreated.

—It's nothing, I really believe you —Young-il said with a friendly expression

—And if you allow me... I would like to be on your team.

The next game would be in teams of five players, counting the girl, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho and now Young-il, they were full, however, when they were talking to get to know each other a little, a woman with the number 222 on his uniform approached them cautiously.

—¿Can I be on your team? Please —Jung-bae was going to interrupt her to tell that they were full but the young woman finished his sentence first —I'm pregnant.

The five pairs of eyes fell on the small bulge of her belly and noticed that it was true. Immediately, the woman spoke. —I'll look for another team.

—¿Are you sure you'll do it?— In-ho asked, looking at her carefully. A person who looked out for someone else's well-being in these games was rare to see, but considering the situation, it was quite understandable. He wouldn't give up his place if he wasn't so interested in his enemy.

She nodded confidently and left to find another team, it didn't take long, after all, most people took advantage of having someone like her on their team just by considering the word "police" in their introduction.

Once the teams were formed and they were told what had to do, they sat on the floor to wait the turn.

As time passed and gunshots mixed with screams sounded in the background, the young woman thought silently.

¿Will Jun-ho be okay? She really hoped so, she had known him for four years and knew that there were times when he could go to extremes to get what wanted.

It was something she loved about him but right now just worried about.

—¿What game are you going to play? —246 asked sitting next to her, momentarily taking her out of his thoughts.

—Gonggi —answered immediately, she was very good at that game, it had been his favorite since she was a child.

The others nodded and continued talking, she didn't go there with the intention of socializing too much.

For starters.

She was only there because Jun-ho had asked her to.

Jun-ho...

She just hoped him could find her and Gi-hun in time.

The policeman had no intention of stopping now, even without having the tracker active and with the fact that apparently someone was sabotaging them from inside, he was not going to stop searching.

The woman he loved was in those games, that wasn't going to be the plan, she was only supposed to be Gi-hun's bodyguard but things didn't go as planned.

—I think we should stop, it's almost time to eat and we're a bit far from the shore.

—We can't be so close now —he said, somewhat irritated and helpless. —Every minute they spend on that island is a danger.

He felt guilty for having dragged her into his own problems.

He remembered the last conversation he had with her before he lost sight of her.

[...]

—We are police officers —Jun-ho said, showing his badge to the guard who was guarding the entrance of the place

—Just like everyone else tonight —the man said with a mocking laugh, pointing at the long line waiting to get into the Halloween party.

Jun-ho didn't have enough patience to tolerate this, so with no other choice he went up to the man and took his gun out of his pocket.

—¿Do you want to see if this is a toy?

The guard stepped back in fear, giving them free passage.

The girl smiled proudly and waved her hand as if it were hot while sighed.

—That's my man —she boasted to the guard as they crossed the entrance. Jun-ho managed to hear her and inevitably a sly smile appeared on his lips.

—We have to find him before they do —he said, referring to Gi-hun searching the crowd but no masked pink guard was visible.

—It will be faster if we separate —she added, taking out her weapon and pointing it at the ground just to be ready in case used it —When we leave here it will be fondue night —she said without losing her charming touch.

It was something they both shared, despite being in tense situations like this, comments like that were never lacking, especially from the girl and that was something Jun-ho adored, her daring was part of what made the policeman fall in love with her.

—Maybe I should drag you into my problems more often —He replied with a smile and separated from her.

The girl was the first to find Gi-hun and surprisingly they let her get into the limo with him.

Jun-ho was unhappy about that but he couldn't change her mind and just when they thought they could intercept the front man of those suicide games they were forced to make a last-minute decision by shooting at the tires of the cars.

[...]

His stomach turned just remembering what people go through inside those games, he trusted that she could survive but the odds of not making him tremble and want to vomit.

—Okay... we'll call off the search —He relented after a few minutes.

He looked up at the sky and asked whoever would listen him to keep the woman he loves alive.

Meanwhile on the island, they had managed to get through the second game alive, she was sitting with Gi-hun's team silently watching around them when 001 sat next to her.

—Hi... —he greeted her with a soft smile, hoping that the mask being Young-il was convincing enough to fool her —I'm curious... if you're a police officer, ¿how did you end up here?

—¿Debts? —She replied with a false smile —My job was to take care of Mr. Seong but it didn't turn out the way I had in mind —she admitted, looking away again but feeling Young-il's intense gaze on her.

—So... ¿you're here as an undercover agent? —he asked, feigning surprise and curiosity.

He himself was the one who gave the order to allow her to also get into the limousine to accompany Gi-hun.

In-ho knew his brother would be worried about her, searching for her relentlessly, but it was inevitable, he needed to meet her in person and be sure how good of an influence she was on Jun-ho.

Or at least he thought it was a good excuse.

—Yeah... —She looked at him silently and attentively when she noticed a certain peculiarity in him appearance —¿Do I know you from somewhere? I feel like I've seen you before...

Him face seemed familiar but she couldn't figure out why. In-ho kept eye contact with her, waiting for her answer.

It was a pity, if she recognize it him had no other option to let her die in the next games but luckily for the girl she denied it.

—Forget it, I'm just stressed ¿And why are you here?

—My wife is sick and pregnant.

She looked at him with pity as he told her his story, it wasn't a lie, it was just that it happened years ago and he couldn't do anything to keep her alive.

—I'm sorry —The girl said after he finished his words.—I promise we'll get out of here and I'll help you as much as I can with the expenses.

The police had money, not to say that she was a millionaire but she lived in a good social status, she was willing to help him only because her heart was softened by him story.

–You barely know me, ¿why would you do that?

—My boyfriend has also had a somewhat hard life and I took this job for a reason, to help others.

She did not consider herself a saint, but if she had the opportunity to do something good for other people, she would do it regardless of the consequences.

—Also... I think I'm pregnant —She said with a small smile.

How chaotic and unfair could fate be that just one night before she was to go to the medical laboratory for her results, she was taken to those games against will.

On the other hand, she could also feel a slight connection with this stranger, which was why she revealed that to him so naturally, but she still didn't know exactly why.

—I have to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back.

He nodded and watched her leave but his eyes also noticed three other suspicious looking players who followed her into the bathroom.

Without thinking twice he also stood up.

Not even two minutes had passed since she entered the bathroom when a woman grabbed her by the collar of the jacket and threw her backwards, making her fall on back.

–¿You remember me? —the woman demanded, looking at her with disdain and annoyance

—No —She answered standing up.

—You threw my husband into prison and won't be out for another twenty years —The woman pulled out a small pocket knife and another woman stood behind the police girl to hold her —I thought about how to kill you for days.

—Very cute, I still don't know who you are.

Those words only made the woman even more furious as lunged at her and tried to stab her,

Her hard training served her well in this unarmed fight.

But she was counting on another man to come in to help the two players who were trying to kill the young policewoman.

—Three against one unarmed is not fair... —she gasped for air as saw that he had a small opening in his head, her had hit himself on the sink at one point during the fight.

—¡It was also not fair that my husband was sentenced to twenty years in prison for attempted abuse!

—Oh, believe me, I tried to make it forty.

A kick to the face from one of them managed to stun her long enough to give them time to pin her down on the cold, damp bathroom floor.

She couldn't hear clearly what they were saying but when she saw how the man placed himself on top of her, their intentions were quite clear.

She didn't have enough strength to continue defending himself, her felt bleeding from his leg from the knife and the cut on his head hurt, but like a hero coming to save the day, Young-il walked through the door and shouted "Hey!"

That small interruption was enough for her to hit the man in the genitals with her knee, making him move away and moan in pain.

She was too stunned to see what was happening, but before she knew it, he had her in him arms and walked out of the bathroom leaving the two women unconscious on the floor and the man with a bleeding nose.

—¡You should do a better job as guards! —he yelled at the two pink soldiers guarding the door, she didn't know it but that scolding was enough to fire those two.

He carefully led her to the men's room where, due to his front man advantages, he was able to have a guard deny another player access until he said so.

—Thanks... —Her murmured as he dropped her on the ground—But I had it under control.

She let out a giggle that made his ribs hurt, In-ho refrained from laughing, now he had to focus on fixing her wounds.

—Being a police officer you made many enemies —He said while using his jacket with some water to clean her.

—You have no idea.

In-ho continued to clean her wounds and after a few minutes everything was better for her, the girl stood up cautiously because of the wound on her leg and thanked Young-il with a small bow.

—Thanks for helping me, for the second time.

—I hope it doesn't become routine —he said with a soft smile, looking her up and down unconsciously.

When they came out of the bathroom there were suspicious glances but neither of them cared.

It was cute, she liked the way this man treated whenever her found himself in trouble, in a way he reminded her of Jun-ho,

She liked that even though she could defend herself, there was still a knight in shining armor who would arrive in the worst situations.

Young-il, the gentleman who arrived just in time and the only one who knew about her suspected pregnancy.

tag list:

@raya4643 @lvspedri @iloveoldermen0204 @ravenslocked

#hwang inho x reader #hwang jun ho x reader #in ho x reader #hwang jun ho #frontman x reader #in ho squidgame #squid game x reader #hwang in ho #squid game #squid game fic #lee byung hun #young-il x reader #frontman x you #Jun-ho x you #Jun ho x you #squidgame x you

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koeniginderskizzen · 2 days ago

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I forgot if I ever reblogged this or not but I'm reblogging it now as an excuse to talk about how much I need this to happen in someway in Chapter 3 or 4. It's basically my biggest wish for the upcoming chapters.

I'm in the camp of "Ralsei isn't Evil, he's just weird like that/ thinks it's all for the greater good if anything".

To recab a little, Ralsei has been alone his entire life as far as we know, so he isn't that well adjusted on how to act in social situations. His go to method of comforting is distracting from the bad stuff, or not mentioning bad stuff at all, which could very likely be because he doesn't really know how to handle it and just thinks "positivity=good, so better avoid negativity because that would cause distress, which is bad"

We also know that the legend, and the supposed purpose of darkners was kinda his life guideline, so to say. Ralsei thinks that his purpose is the legend and to serve the lightners, and he doesn't want to go against it. Be it because of Roaring, some other hidden thing/ plan we don't know of yet, or because he never knew anything else. What's important is: in Chapter 2 Susie began to challenge that mindest a little.

In the SweetCap'nCakes battle, Ralsei firstly insists that Kris, or us, is the only one who is allowed to act, maybe because it gives us a unique, irreplacable role, which could make us happy, but Susie forces him to learn R-Action anyway. When alone with us, Ralsei says that he learned from Susie that being yourself can be enough to be a friend but then adds that he doesn't actually know who he is as a person.

Which is why Kris being revealed to Ralsei as the person who made the fountain would be such a huge next step!

Now Ralsei actually is confronted with a situation where one of the people he trusted, and especially someone he is supposed to serve and be kind to no matter what, goes directly against his wishes. What is he supposed to do now? He could just put his feelings under a rug, and I Imagine he might even do that at first, but the important thing is that he has to deal with that conflict of being angry at Kris, but also having to stay supportive, which could even culminate in him expressing that disappointment, and defining himself as his own person who's feelings matter, and who isn't just a servant, even more.

I really need this for him.

I Imagine the legend and the roaring is in some way linked to the player, and if Ralsei learns to become his own person throughout the game, that could even lead to him potentially choosing to abandon the legend for the sake of his friends.

Or he won't, the important thing to me is, that the choice will be his own (because I love Ralsei as a character)

chapter 3 probably

#Deltarune #Fun Gang #Ralsei #Reblogging Art

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fumiliar · 3 days ago

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playing - "alchemy" by taylor swift

athlete!kento who simply does not engage in anything related to his socials. whether an edit of him lifting up his shirt goes viral, or even a viral clip of his most embarrassing play. he just doesn't care, he simply lets his PR team handle it.

athlete!kento who never envisioned his life as a professional athlete. he had always imagined his future being stuck in some mundane cubicle, doing repetitive work all his life. but now he got to live out his dreams.

athlete!kento who would always come running to you. his first thoughts will always be you. the you that supported him from the ground up, who stayed with him through injuries, who stayed with him through times where he thought he'd never come back to the sport. a state where kento would leave himself, you stayed. and that meant more to him than winning anything.

his win was well deserved. after rigorous training, day and night, he was like a robot. and it finally paid off. whereas his teammates were still huddling, celebrating. kento patted and hugged each one of them before he ran straight for the sidelines. to you. he ran as fast as his worn out legs could take him, and as he finally reached you. his arms wrapped around you, swallowing you whole. and only then, could he finally feel relief.

relief that he had won

relief that the season was finally over

and lastly, relief that you were there, through the whole way. to cheer him on.

you could feel his body physically relax, letting go. "kento, don't relax your whole body weight to me."

"i've missed you," his head snuggled to your neck. "did you see? i scored for you."

"i saw ken," you gave him a reassuring rub on the back of his head, giving it a quick peck.

"go celebrate," you pushed him to where his team was at, giving him a nod before he reluctantly walks away from you. sending you glares that held no hatred to the fact you had actually pushed him away.

and there was not a single doubt in your mind, that if he was given the chance to do this all over again, he would always run to you. again and again.

p.s let's ignore the fact that he would literally be soaked in his sweat... he'd still smell good anyways 🤷 you can imagine it as any sport...i was too lazy to get into the specifics and research.

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #kento nanami #fumiliardrabbles #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #kento x reader #nanami fluff #nanami x y/n #jjk headcanons #kento x y/n #kento fluff #nanami kento #nanami headcanons #nanami x you

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cherrysurf · 2 days ago

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winning you back pt.2

-where haikyu boys try to win back you their ex gf

-this is lwk depressing but maybe it’s bc of the music im listening to rn LMAO

contains; atsumu, tsukishima, kita, sakusa, oikawa, iwaizumi

pt.1 of winning you back here!

atsumu; He still very much has all your pictures on his feed that he never deleted and never will you had to go minimal contact with him because he kept texting you every other day to try to get back together, he still loves you and thinks your gonna be his wife and that this is just a rough patch, so when you post that you’re going to be volunteering at osamu’s restaurant for a charity that osamu is doing for young kids to get into volleyball he takes it upon himself to cancel his practice for that day and go and join you two and begged and forced osamu to make you too work together so he can talk to you, and those dam miya’s being so good and weaseling there way back into life’s, it worked. You two are now talking again. You told him that you wanted to take this slow, but atsumu later that week posted a soft launch of you two at dinner.

tsukishima; tsukishima acts like he’s so nonchalant but no one’s seen him cry over how bad it’s killing him that you can fully ignore him when he’s usually the one doing that. He hates how bad he fucked up so he decided to make a plan to win you back, what does that mean he had to do? work at the same cat cafe as you, at first you weren’t on the same shifts and maybe hanging out with cats was a plus but getting crushed on by other girls wasn’t. Anyways as soon and he saw you two were on the same shift he couldn’t be more happy, it was a slow shift so he used this time to catch up and be very soft and respectful he saw you weren’t fighting back so he was thinking that was a step forward, until later on when a girl came by to order a drink and was clearly flirting with him so tsukishima ignored her, as she said “can i get your number?” you turned to see what he would do all he said was “no i have a girlfriend she’s right there actually, i don’t what gave you the confidence to think you could ask me” he said laughing which left the girl embarrassed and you flustered.

kita; Kita is forever my yearning man. He writes letters for you and sends them, you kept them all because you still didn’t get over him. He thought it was the right choice to let you go but he couldn’t have been more wrong, and I fear kita is the type to have a romantic scene like the movies. So what? anyways he comes by your hour IN THE POURING RAIN. to apologize “i’m sorry im selfish for breaking up with you yn, i just clean up well i forget myself” OOOO YOU END UP SOBBING BC WHO WOULDN'T?! anyways safe to say you kissed in the rain and he won you back

sakusa; stubborn ass ho. He was shocked when you broke things off even more when you actually stood on business, sakusa was one to keep his composure and not crashout but he couldn’t understand why he was so affected by the breakup it’s like his whole life flipped upside down. He even stopped keeping up with himself for a bit which was totally out of the norm. So when you saw him at your apartment in the lates of the night messy hair, wrinkles in his clothes looking dead you knew something was wrong, he almost felt like he could breathe again once you embraced him, disgusting and all and he didn’t let go since and tried to change for the better

oikawa; He acted happy at first like it didn’t matter because he thought you needed him more than he needed you. Oh how wrong he was, the fan girls didn’t support him the way you did, didn’t cheer for him the way you did, no one could cook as good as you, no one could get him out his depression like you could, so one night around 4am he gave you a call wanting to quit volleyball because he felt like he couldn’t do anymore without you there, which broke your heart because you saw how bad he was struggling without you there and that’s when he finally admits “I needed you more than you needed me. Come back yn, i’m sorry” and you did because you needed him just as much as he needed you.

iwaizumi; it was mutual breakup but not really he just did whatever he could to make you happy he hated fighting with you, he never deleted your pictures, he still kept all your stuff that you didn’t take at his house, he was still loyal even if you weren’t together, He blamed himself for not fighting back. he became very very career oriented that’s when he saw you at a job interview, you had just finished interviewing for the place he works at as a sports medical assistant. you weren’t aware he was working there so he stopped you and asked to get lunch since you were leaving and he was on his lunch break. That's where he apologized for not doing more and still thought about you and asked for a redo and would do anything for a second chance, and you agreed because you felt the same.

tags; @solarvrse (for the atsumu one) @sahrii (for the iwaizumi one)

#cherrysurf writes #atsumu x reader #tsukishima x reader #kita x reader #oikawa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #iwaizumi x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x #haikyuu x imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x reader

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mermaidgirl30 · 2 days ago

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✨Saving What Was Lost Part 7: Your Hand In Mine✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Get ready to meet soft, angsty Joel in this chapter. I would like to give him a big hug 🥺

Chapter Summary: Your first day of therapy is a little scary, but Joel helps you through it.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 4.7k

Chapter Tags: Soft! Joel, so much angst, yearning, reader goes to therapy, dual POV, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), mentions of violence and kidnapping, grief

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“You nervous?” Joel asks from the driver’s seat, hands locked around the leather steering wheel.

You nod while your hands fidget with your leggings. “Mmm, a little.” But a little’s a lie. You’re downright terrified. You’ve never been to therapy, never talked about yourself before like that. Well, Joel was the closest. You’ve talked to him, and you’re oddly comfortable with that now. But other than that? You haven’t done this.

He must see the lie on your worried face and the terror ringing through your wide eyes. Giving you a gentle smile, he turns his focus back to the road ahead that’s shrouded in mist from the December rain. “Don’t be. Tess is great. You’re going to be great, sweetheart. I know it’s scary, but just know you’re taking that first step into the unknown. That first step of healing, and you’re going to do so well. I jus’ know it.”

He’s always so supportive, so gentle, so easy with you. It makes your heart clench, makes it beat a little more just for him.

You take a good look at him. Watch as he cards a hand back through his tousled curls, watch as his green flannel clings to his flexed biceps, watch as that easy smile melts across his plush mouth. He’s just so nice to watch, so easy to keep your eyes trained on.

Darting your tongue across your bottom lip, you tilt your head toward him and give him an easy smile. “You’re always so sure about me.”

“Yeah, guess I am.” He turns his head toward you and gives you a heart-stopping smile. “I guess I see all the potential in those pretty eyes of yours.”

Your mouth parts, cheeks redden as you repeat that sentence over in your mind. He thinks you have pretty eyes. He’s always so sure of you.��

Turning back toward the fogged-up passenger window, you lean against the door and smile. A smile that’s bigger than you’ve ever smiled before. You’re completely smitten by the handsome Texas man with big brown eyes. And he’s just continuing to show you how much life is worth living. Telling you how far he thinks you’ll go. But you don’t want to go far in distance. No. You just want to stay right here beside him. You think you’d follow him anywhere.

When he stops at a red light, you brave another stare at him and smile like your whole heart is right there in his eyes. “Thanks for seeing the potential in me.”

One side of his mouth curls up into a crooked smile, and his cinnamon-brown eyes sparkle against the windshield. “You’re so welcome, sweetheart.”

When you catch your breath from melting, you ask, “Sarah said you see Tess, too?”

He nods as the truck’s engine revs to life again. “She’s right. See her every couple of weeks or so. She’s patient and understanding and she really helps, I think. Helps when the nights get a little too dark for me.”

The way he says the last sentence, his low voice sounds a little weary like maybe he fights the nights as much as you do. And you don’t miss the flinch in his right eye or the way his hand tightens on the steering wheel. He must get them too. The nightmares that haunt your dreams every few nights. You wish you could just scoop them up, replace them with dreams of ocean tides or snowy mountains filled with deep green trees. You wish you could take away his pain, whatever’s hurting him so deeply. He hides it well—the pain. But sometimes it creeps up on him, and it spills in different shades across his shadows that slip in his brown eyes. That’s something you don’t miss.

Steady rain pelts against the windows, making the few trees in the distance look like monsters with tangled vines draping low to the ground. You flick your gaze back to Joel in the driver’s seat and another slow smile brushes against your lips. “Thanks again for driving me.”

“It ain’t no trouble, sweetheart. I’ll drive you till you don’t need me to.”

Another skipped heartbeat, another butterfly flitting through your stomach. The man is so sweet.

Biting your lower lip, you brave a question, mildly testing the waters. “What if I always need you to?” It comes out quiet, but not so quiet that he doesn’t hear you.

He slows to a halt at a stop sign and turns to face you, eyes sparkling with promises. “Then I’ll be there every single time you need me.”

“Promise?”

Another smile. “Cross my heart.” He folds a hand over his chest, promising once again.

You giggle under your breath, your eyes never leaving his. “Well, looks like I can trust you then.”

“You can always trust me, sweetheart.” And he means it. You can always trust him, and you know that. God, you know that.

When the tires start spinning again on the damp pavement and the low sounds of an old Western song plays through the speakers, he clears his throat and speaks. “It’s gonna be a late night for me.”

You flip your eyes back to him and give him a worried stare. “Do you have to go somewhere?” You already know what that means. He’s got an important job to do. One where he might be gone all night, maybe till morning.

He nods subtly. “Got an important run I gotta do with Tommy. So I might not be home till mornin’…” His voice cuts off. He knows you hate it when he’s away so long.

“Gone the whole night?” Your voice is a meek whisper because you’re afraid what his answer will be.

He’s silent a beat. “Afraid so, but hopefully that ain’t the case. But still, even if I am back earlier, it’ll be well after two o’clock in the mornin’.”

Your stomach churns just thinking about it. When he’s not across the hall when you’re sleeping, when he’s not just mere feet apart from you, it’s like something’s missing. There’s a void in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t seem to unravel that feeling till he’s in your space again. “I hate when you’re gone all night…” Your words falter, they break like your voice shakes.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His right hand drops to the center console, just inches from yours. He seems conflicted, seems like he wants to reach out and graze his calloused skin against yours, but he doesn’t. But he’s trying. He’s still hesitant to touch you because you’re still so unsure of touch. He doesn’t want to scare you, and you know that. He’s just being careful. And maybe you’re still scared of physical touch, but his touch? That warm, gentle, soft graze he sometimes gives you. Well, it feels like sunlight skimming over you.

Carefully, you move your fingers in his direction. Just enough where you can feel the heat of his skin. You don’t touch him, not quite. But this is enough. This is your middle ground. “I umm… I worry about you at night when you’re not home. I’m always scared that… that...” You can’t even speak it out loud. You’re scared he won’t come back one night. And you can’t bear the thought of that.

His brown eyes soften. “I’ll be alright, sweetheart. I’ll come back. I can promise you that.” You give him a small smile and nod, keeping your fingers right by his just so you can feel the heat cover your own skin.

Physical contact is still something you’re struggling with, but you think Joel understands that. And he does. Always so careful around you. Never one to put you in an uncomfortable situation because he does understand your situation. He knows exactly what you’ve been through, and he wouldn’t dare make the wrong move because he doesn’t want to scare you. And you appreciate that. You appreciate him. So this is enough. Right now in this truck—hands centimeters apart, heat gliding over your fingers, a whispered promise that he’s going to take care of you.

Yes. This is enough.

After a few more minutes, Joel’s pulling into a little parking lot, right in front of a tiny building with a lit-up white sign that says "Essence of Healing.” Your heart starts beating faster, your breath tightening in your chest as your eyes scan the brightly-lit sign. “Well, here we are. You ready?” He turns off the ignition and pulls the key out, his brown eyes flitting over to you.

You swallow once and nod, an array of emotions spinning in your head. “Yeah, I think so,” you breathe out as calmly as you can.

He gives you an encouraging smile and pushes the door open. “C’mon, then.” You open the passenger door slowly and close it with a bang, your knees shaky, legs wobbly with every step you take toward the door.

This is it. You’re actually going to talk to a therapist for the first time in your life. What if you’re not ready, what if you choke, what if you burst out into tears and can’t sputter words from your choked-up throat? These are all valid questions, ones you never really considered, but you’re here. You have to do this. You have to do it for yourself. You owe that much to yourself. You are worth it.

When Joel goes up to the front desk with you, the one covered in green succulents and a calming, trickling desk fountain running the corner, you collect all the paperwork you need to fill out and in exchange give her your photo ID. Joel was kind enough to go with you to get a new one since your old one was lost somewhere in Washington. As for health insurance, Joel was paying out of pocket for you to be seen. But he promised he was working to get you on your own health insurance plan. You still don’t know why he’s being so nice to you, but without him, you’d probably be dead by now…

After a few minutes of fighting with the paperwork and scribbling out wrong information, you’re about to break out in tears. They’re swelling in the backs of your eyes, making your lips quiver and the words blur on the page.

“Hey. You’re alright,” Joel coos, taking the pen from your shaky hand. “Let me help.” And you do let him. He fills out the questions you couldn’t answer yourself—his home address, your phone number you still haven’t memorized, emergency contact information, insurance details, even going as far as helping you fill out medical questions you’re having trouble with.

As you look up at him all focused and intent on getting your paperwork done, a little spark sizzles in your chest. You study him—eyes glued to the page, jaw flexed as his rapt attention is on each question, tousled curls a little disheveled as he cards his fingers attentively while he thumbs through the pages. You’re a little mesmerized, a little surprised he didn’t just leave you to shovel through the numerous papers. Instead, he chose to stay right by your side, saving you from breaking down from the weight of so many unknowns.

You’re scared, a little overwhelmed, a little more nervous than you’d like to be. But with Joel, it seems like you can get through anything.

When the paperwork is all completed and he’s back at your side, waiting patiently for them to call you back, you feel a little better—like you can do anything if he’s there next to you. Call him your knight in shining armor, but he truly is. He keeps saving you, and you hope he’ll never stop.

The nervous jitters start up again when you glance up at the clock. Five till noon, right when your appointment is supposed to be. Your knee is bouncing up and down in tandem with your flexed fingers against your leggings. Fear trickles down your spine, slides into the deepest parts of your veins. And suddenly, you’re downright terrified.

You’re about to get up, run out the door, but Joel senses your worry. He slides the back of his hand against yours, brushing your skin gently, a way to say ‘Hey, I’m right here.’ And when you look up and see those big brown eyes gazing softly down at you, you instantly quiet down inside. Your knee stops bouncing, and you’re left with this overwhelming peace that seems to radiate through every part of your body. Like a quiet forest that soothes your soul, that’s what Joel does to you. He makes everything else around you so still, so quiet.

When you’re about to say something to break the trance you’re in, you faintly hear your name being called from the open office door.

You sit up straight and look toward the door, up at the woman that just called your name. “That’s me,” you call out with a shaky voice.

“Ahh. There you are.” She strides up to you and holds her hand out. You slowly take it. She has long light brown hair, strong cheekbones, welcoming hazel eyes, and a smile that instantly soothes you. “I’m Tess, by the way. It’s so good to meet you. This one’s told me a lot about you.” She flicks her eyes to Joel.

When you take her hand, it’s warm. “It’s nice to meet you, Tess. And of course he has.”

Joel shakes his head and lets a low chuckle leave his lips. “Guilty as charged.”

“You got lucky with this one. He’s one of the good ones,” Tess nods as your hands disconnect.

“He is…” you repeat back, getting lost just for a second in his syrupy brown eyes. He seems to get lost in yours too.

“You ready?” Tess asks.

“Oh, uhh. Yeah.” You take a second to push yourself up off the cushioned leather chair, let your legs stop wobbling beneath you.

When you’re just about to follow her back, Joel’s low voice serenades your ears. “I’ll be right here waitin’. You’re gonna do great, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Joel.” You give him a lasting smile, until Tess beckons you back to her office.

“Come on. This way.”

With one last glance his way, you watch the front office door shut and what awaits you is a long hallway with mint-green wallpaper. Pictures of oceans, fields of wildflowers, and open spaces fill the painted walls. A small white table sits in the middle of the hall with multi-colored flowers hanging over the table that are tucked inside a cream-colored pot.

When you make it to the fourth door on the left, Tess nods inside and lets you go first. “Welcome to my office. Hope it’s cozy enough for you.”

Gasping, you take in her array of rocks and seashells on her back wall. Dozens of colorful shapes and sizes fill the expanse of it. But what really catches your attention is all the little sand dollars spread out by her computer monitor. Her walls are almost the color of sunlight, and she’s got a massive portrait of a west coast beach framed with love behind her desk chair. A white leather couch sits right across from her mahogany desk, and the scent of soothing lavender fills the air.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, amazed by all the decorative details of her office. It’s so inviting and welcoming. It instantly calms you down.

“Glad you like it,” she smiles. “Well, have a seat. Get comfortable.” You comply as she gets situated in her chair and pulls up your paperwork. Sifting through it for a minute, she looks up at you with a bright smile lit across her face. “So. This is your first session, is that correct?”

“Yeah. I… I’ve never done this before,” you answer honestly, a little scared of what she might say, but she only gives you another encouraging smile.

“Well, you came to the right place then. We’re just going to take this slow, take it one session at a time. Healing is a journey. There’s no one single path to it. We’ll do what works for you, what you’re comfortable with. That sound okay to you?”

“Mhm,” you nod with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You’re so fucking nervous, but this is normal, right? Everyone is scared of something they’ve never done before. But this? It seems like all your secrets will surely be unmasked, and that terrifies you. Sharing your past—what happened to you—isn’t going to be easy. Not one bit.

“I can see you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. This is a safe space. You can talk to me about anything. It’s all confidential. Nothing you say goes out that door.”

Your eyes flit to the closed oak door, and you nod in acknowledgment. “Right… Okay.”

She scoots back and crosses one leg over her knee, leaving the open papers splayed on her desk. All attention is on you now. “How about we start from the beginning. Before… before you were taken. Maybe start with your childhood?”

“Oh… I… Well, that’s a lot to tell,” you gulp out nervously. Your childhood trauma is a whole other monster you still haven’t tackled.

She smiles. “We’ve got an entire hour today. And if you come back, we’ll have many more sessions to unravel your past.”

You bite your bottom lip and nod, your nerves getting the best of you, but you push through. “Okay…” You take a deep breath and dive in head first. “Here goes nothing.”

Four o’clock flashes like an alarm on the oven clock, telling him he’s been gone for hours, but really, it feels like it’s been days. He reaches for the open whiskey bottle and pours the amber liquid over the square ice cubes in the glass. Every drop looks like the trickles of fresh blood that’s stained his flannel permanently. He should’ve fucking known tonight was not the night to wear nice flannels.

He scuffs his leather boots against the hardwood floor, dragging his tired legs from the kitchen to the living room, till he’s collapsed in a heap on the leather couch—one hand curled around the cold glass, the other raking down his face excruciatingly slow.

He failed. He was too late. Just minutes from being on time. Maybe he could’ve saved her. Saved that innocent little girl from her executioners. But he couldn’t…

As he closes his eyes, he sees the flash of red covering the dark walls, serenading the lace of her pink dress. Eleven-years-old, just shy of turning twelve, a daughter that’ll never be able to return home to a worried mother and father.

He curses under his breath, feels the tears pour like droplets of water down his cheek. She didn’t deserve to die, didn’t deserve to be scared and all alone. He was supposed to save her, was supposed to get her out. That was his mission, and he fucking failed.

Three minutes. He was just three fucking minutes shy of saving her life, but he was too late. He misjudged the distance, didn’t realize the captors were early to their destination. He got there right after they smothered her—silencing her terrified screams forever. He can still hear them like shrill sirens blasting through the base of that rundown building. This isn’t the first time he’s been too late, but God. This one hurts like hell because it reminds him of someone he lost along the way. Someone he loved just as much as Sarah.

And so, he did what he did best. He took them out—all the men that had hurt her. Thankfully, he took backup, including Tommy. He smothered their screams, pushed daggers into their throats, shot them dead in a frenzy of rage while his teeth were clenched and eyes were fogged with held-in tears. When he looked at that poor, lost girl—it nearly took him to his knees. Those eyes. Those same lifeless hazel eyes that still haunt his dreams to this day. They were the same shade as hers… The little girl that forever changed his life. The one that he wishes was still here…

Ellie… That little girl tonight looked just like his lost daughter—the one he saved all those years ago. But he never fully saved her. Not after… not when he let her go…

A wave of emotions floods through his chest as he takes another stiff drink of alcohol, letting the whiskey burn through him while visions of hazel eyes and crimson fill his foggy mind.

He was too late. He fucked up. He misjudged the minute hand from the second hand. Time slipped away from him. And before he knew it, everything he planned for was lost to the eerie night. Instead, it ended in bloodshed and turmoil. He hates it. Hates when things have to get extremely violet, but what choice did he have? He had to take them out because they stole an innocent life—a life he was supposed to keep safe.

He’s so lost in the crimson-stained memories in his mind that he almost misses that small, meek voice of yours. “Joel?”

When he opens his eyes, a part of his soul shatters. There you are, a plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders, heartbreaking eyes shining over to him from the staircase. You take in his half-drank glass of whiskey and the dried tears that stain his cheeks. But also, you see the faint crimson that tarnishes his flannel shirt.

Blood. There was so much blood… like a liquid pool of death.

He adjusts his back against the leather cushion and sits up a little straighter, just so he looks less worn down and broken than he already is. You see right through him though. You always do. “Sweetheart, it’s late. Why don’t you…”

“Are you… okay?” Your voice whispers across the room, silences the crackling embers in the fireplace. Your voice… it sounds broken too.

“I, uhh. Jus’ please, go back to sleep.” He tries to push you away, tries to get you to return to your room so he can sulk in peace. He doesn’t want you to see him like this. Doesn’t want you to see just how physically and mentally defeated he actually is. He’s not as strong as you think he is. He’s fragile, grainy sand that gets blown away by the wind. He’s not rock-solid; he’s quicksand.

You slide into the seat next to him, close enough where your knee could brush against his. “I’m not leaving you.” There’s finality in your tone, still soft but firm on your decision. And there’s those eyes. Those fucking beautiful eyes that could silence all the built-up pain he has piled on his heart.

You’re so fucking beautiful.

“Are you hurt?” You ghost your hand across the leather, reaching out just enough where he feels the heat of your skin. It soothes him over just a tad, but nothing can quite wipe away the excruciating weight of agony he’s carrying now.

“No. I’m jus’… I’m so tired.” He pinches his eyes closed and takes a deep breath, his hand clutching the cool glass of whiskey like it’s his lifeline. “This job weighs on me like solid concrete. Some nights are so fuckin’ hard. Some nights jus’…” He pauses, takes a deep breath in and blows another out. He can’t finish. He’s too tired, too strained from the past few hours, months, years.

He’s so fucking tired; he just needs some rest, some peace, some symbolism that he knows he’ll get to the finish line. But he’s been so struck down ever since he met that certain hazel-eyed little girl. Ellie. His little girl…

“What happened tonight?” Your voice comes off as a whisper. Maybe you’re just as scared to hear what he has to say.

He taps the edge of his thumb against the solid glass and takes a deep breath. “We uhh… I lost her. Her name… her name was Abigail. Just a little eleven-year-old, and I was supposed to save her, to get her back to her parents. But I… I was too late. I was too fuckin’ late.” There it is. The pen drops, another tear splashes down his stained flannel, and he’s lost to grief again.

You pause a beat, but you gasp loud enough for him to hear the horror in your voice. He’s a failure. You must think he’s such a failure. “Joel… I’m so… God. I’m so sorry.” There’s only sorrow in your lilty voice, no anger or resentment that he failed yet another soul. You’re just as sad as him, he thinks.

“I failed her… I failed everyone…” He shakes his head, sets his mind a little straighter just so he can grit the words out. “Sometimes I feel like none of this is worth it, like I don’t make a difference. Because when this happens, it makes me feel like I’m already six feet underground.”

“Oh, Joel. No.” He feels it—the couch creak beneath him, the weight of your body sliding over, your hand inching closer to his. “You save so many lives. You make every bit of difference. You change lives.” There’s so much assurance in your voice; you’re trying to soothe him over.

He snaps his eyes shut and shakes his head, anything to stop the burning sensation in his watery eyes. Maybe if he doesn’t blink then he won’t feel the pain of this gut-wrenching moment. “But I… I couldn’t save her… I couldn’t save…”

Ellie…

With his eyes still shut tight, he feels warmth wrap around his hand, feels the soft caress of your skin. And when he opens his eyes wide, he sees the most beautiful shades of softness gleaming from your pretty eyes.

“You saved me. And that… that means everything to me. You saved me. You saved your daughter. You saved so many lives. You are a hero, and don’t you dare think otherwise. Not for one second.” There’s tears licking your lash line, the most sincere look over your pretty face. A desperate plea to get through to him. And in that moment, he believes you for a second. Believes that he is a hero, even when he doesn’t believe it himself.

His bottom lip trembles as tears gather in his watery eyes. Something hits him deep in the gut. Longing, the fear of losing you, and an all-consuming wave of tender emotions. He sees you. He really sees you. Such a beautiful soul. Such a lovely, amazing woman. To think he almost didn’t go to that auction, almost wasn’t able to save you. What would he do if he never found you? It stings to even think about. Because you… Well, you’re everything all at once. And he’s so fucking soft for you.

Carefully, softly, he laces his fingers through yours, holds on for dear life, praying you never let go.

Don’t let go. Never let go.

Your hand is a perfect fit for his. Every line, edge, dip carved specially for his hand to fit in. The weave of your fingers against his, the light brush of your skin, the heat that spirals into complete warmness when your skin slips against his—you were fucking made for him, just as he was for you, he thinks. Because when your bright eyes and soft smile are in his presence, he sees pure sunlight, sees the pure angelic essence you’re bathed in.

He was made to find you. This much he knows. And whether you choose to stay or go—he’ll have this moment to hold on to. Because he got you once. Your hand in his. This right here is everything he’s ever needed. It may just be your hand brushing against his, your fingers intertwined together, but it feels like home. You feel like home.

So, he lets the soft rain pelt outside against the living room windows, lets the dying fire crackle and pop in the fireplace, and savors the feel of your honey-like soft skin sliding against his. And he stays there for several minutes, maybe an hour, and there’s only silence shrouding the room. But your touch? It screams volumes, makes him feel human again.

For a breath of a moment, you’re his.

Texas rain was a rare phenomenon. Misty showers only a once in a while type thing. But you? You made it pour, made the flood waters wash clear through Austin. He didn’t see it coming, didn’t expect anything like you. But it sure as hell knocked him clear off his feet when you bathed him in your electric thunderstorms.

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