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sl4sh3rsub · 1 year ago

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brahms heelshire hcs (nsfw: mdni)

brahms heelshire x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: a whole heap. dom/sub dynamics + aspects of the lifestyle (both brahms and reader are switches, reader is a soft dom mostly) AND top/bottom dynamics (both brahms and reader are vers), dubious consent (somnophilia, overstimulation?), use of mommy/daddy/sir towards reader in separate sections, copious mentions of cum + precum (includes cum eating/cum marking/cum jar), fuck malcolm 202x (brahms is territorial), detailed ass stuff: anal, rimming, ass eating (giving and receiving), oral sex (giving), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), domestic behaviour, hygiene practices, hickeys, thigh fucking, cockwarming, sex toys, dry humping

a/n: barely edited. is it mummy or mommy?? average aussie moment. i also have a smut fic in my drafts so hmu in the inbox if you wanna see it, i'm not too sure if there's any demand for it lmao DISCLAIMER: i, personally, have not been in properly established dominant/submissive relationship! i have been in those spaces for a while though and am doing my best to not misrepresent lifestyle aspects or write fics promoting extremely unhealthy relationship dynamics - obviously take this with a grain of salt as this fic is about a slasher and is already not a healthy n wholesome starting point. do your own research and stay safe irl folks

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

there's a very clear dom/sub dynamic in your relationship and brahms is definitely a switch (leaning sub) to the core. sometimes he'll be extremely dominant with you during sex, but he'll always revert back to your sweet boy after he makes an effort to clean you up <3

you take turns fucking each other braindead but after your eyes roll into your head, you always have to get him back by making him drool into the pillows for the next couple of hours

brahms insists on starting a quickie and cumming all over your chest and face right before malcolm is scheduled to arrive. he pushes you towards the door as the bell rings and wants to leave you with his drying spend stained all over your skin, sticking your shirt to you in dark splotches - a territorial, possessive nature is awakened in brahms as he watches from the walls while malcolm flushes and realises what is going on. the best bit is, you're fully well aware of what he's doing after the first time it happens, but you entertain his antics for a little while longer to ensure the poor delivery boy gets the message to back off

he also has a small, little, teensy weensy habit of cum marking all of your underwear, pillowcases and even goes as far as making you special little jam sandwiches with a little... salty layer, especially for you

push your thumb against his hole and go to town on his ass and eat him out - put a pillow under his hips and do him a favour by stuffing your underwear in his mouth so he won't lose his voice as he's screaming from pleasure, of course. he'll be so, so obedient for the day after and if you sneak behind him to smack his ass, his knees will buckle slightly and his head whips towards you to meet your mischievous gaze

his sloppy, spit-shined pink hole winks at you after you make out with it, and the sight makes you lose control every single time, especially when he whines. he grinds against your tongue as you fuck him, circling your fingers around the base of his cock to stop him from instantly staining the sheets. his precious cum spurting onto his chest would be a waste and make quite the mess

brahms' knees get weak and he practically melts beneath your touch when you start focusing on his cockhead while sucking him off - slick up your thumb with his sticky precum as you drag it along his slit, lick small circles and drool over it as you blow cool air to see him shiver... genuinely anything to do with his sensitive tip with get him spilling all over your tongue. if he's sitting on the edge of a table or counter while you take his length down your throat, he'll shift one of his thighs over your shoulder and hump into your mouth with shuddering gasps, needing to have your drool coating him completely while his eyes roll back and you hold your breath

brahmsy is obsessed with you caring for him (both sexually and non-sexually), especially with things such as prescribed routines and specific positions for him to follow. of course brahms is reliant on order! he's already accustomed to following the rules and schedules while in the wall, so it's only natural for him to feel safe with you after his previous neglect. he's so obedient and willing for you to make him into your own pliable doll - he's most happy with you guiding him everywhere and often shaving him, practically playing dress up every day. brahms knows that every saturday is when you have your thorough 'inspection' of his body - it's when you decide whether or not to shave his pubes and facial hair in the next week! sometimes he wants to be clean shaven and sometimes he's more than happy to grow out his dark curls, but he secretly adores you methodically shaving around his cock - gently holding it up or to the side to make sure you get everything and your diligent focus solely on his soft shaft makes him flush under your attentive gaze. every single time you adjust your warm grip on his balls to maneuver the blade, his cockhead beads out a tad bit of precum. every single time, without fail. he doesn't even have to be hard for his body to react like that, for his tip to drool with his arousal, but your low chuckles and distracted glances up at his flushed chest make it hard for him to not squirm in your hold :( he was originally the one to suggest the whole shaving thing, as he wasn't the biggest fan of fully cleaning up after cumming everywhere and it tended to dry in his thick bush of curls. after you first tried out hair removal with him, he found it much easier to wipe off his mess and was overall much more convenient.

your clinical precision in keeping your favourite boy upkept each day makes for a soothing routine for you and a chance for brahms to preen and bask in your attention for a solid hour. brahms' favourite part of the daily routine is your softly spoken orders in the morning to tilt his chin back slightly as you run the razor over his jawline and down his neck. the raw vulnerability almost gives him shivers, but good boys never disobey directions to 'stay still' <3

if you manage to wrangle up get brahms into having a prescribed skincare routine, his attentively mumbled recitations of the order for his cleanser, exfoliant and moisturizer drift down the hall while you prepare breakfast for two of you :(

make sure to praise him for washing up properly before you both get intimate! his lifestyle did a 180 after meeting you, so any encouragement to be clean and neat is positive reinforcement for him to stay that way

if brahms feels a little shy or out of it on any given day, he disappears into the walls for some time away - that doesn't mean he won't trail you like a shuffling shadow though, he just might not want to be out in the open for a little. to make him feel loved, kiss the wallpaper of the wall he's behind! the little gasp or squeak of surprise as he undoubtedly turns beet red just a mere inch away from you is a small joy <3

if you feel stressed or wound up, he's fully convinced that some dick will mellow you out just fine! he wants you to be fucked out so your anxious demeanor disappears and you can be happy again - it's for your own good :(

despite how he loves the wholesome nature of your voice going soft while you compliment him, he can't ignore how it makes him swell in his pants. he just loves the warmth in your gaze and the quirk in the edge of your lips as his eyes glaze over

brahms has a cum jar that he keeps in the walls - it has a small lock of your hair set in it from when you slept in the house the first night. if you have to go out early to the local farmer's market or shops, you'll most likely find a small, warm jar hastily and clumsily cleaned on your bedside table - a cooling milky substance makes the glass opaque as a few small dribbles slide down the outer rim. it's from brahmsy, of course. he wants you to always be aware of what your presence and existence does to him

whenever he wants to try and cook for you or you leave your meal out before you eat together, brahms will quickly jack off all over the food. he just wants to make sure you have a bit of his love incorporated in your diet - in case you accidentally swap them, he'll make sure to put it on all the plates available. he doesn't mind at all, he's not picky! although, brahms would much rather eat his cum off of your fingers or out of you, or even from your lips as you make out after you give him head... but whatever has to happen to ensure you have his cum in your tummy, brahmsy will do it

he is a fiend for stealing your clothing, especially your underwear (bonus points if they're not clean) - he wears the dirty garment or simply wraps it around his leaky cock. he begs you to wear the cum-stained underwear while you go out on emergency necessary shopping trips. he just wants to ensure that you have him on your mind the whole time :(

if you refuse, he'll reluctantly compromise with you and make you keep the doll with you to ensure everyone backs off when you're in public. he swears up and down that you'll be so much safer with his 'mini me' attached at your hip

if you need to go into town at any point, make sure to prep brahms a day beforehand with being alright in your absence - have your laundry done ahead of time with your detergent and scent on it to give him and leave written instructions to have a shower using your soap and shampoo to feel safer <3 if you've been doing a project over the past few days, such as painting or long chores together (like repairing a set of chairs or dusting all the room decor), make sure brahms is comfortable with continuing it when you're out - it gives him a distraction and something to do with his hands

puppy dog eyes go both ways in your relationship - he weaponizes it to try and convince you to spend more time skin-to-skin and you use it to make him listen and follow instructions. it also has the added bonus of getting you both riled up

tap twice on your belt buckle or the fly of your pants and his brain will fully turn off. his breath goes whiny and his tongue lolls out at the thought of you using his face for your own selfish needs

brahms is incredibly shy but willing to go against his own timid nature for you. the first time he presented himself to you was something you'll never forget. you had gone to fetch him a glass of water and when you returned to your room, he had confidently stripped naked and was kneeling on the rug, waiting for you with a blush across his chest. you stuttered and diverted your gaze in shock, hurriedly covering your eyes. brahms rose and tutted, shakily tilted your chin towards him and cooing at your bashful reaction. he whispered reassurances in your ear - he wanted you to look at his body, it's yours to do with as you wish. he trusts you wholeheartedly, so command him and he will meet your every need

if brahmsy is being a bit of a brat, tease him for not being on his best behaviour - press soft kisses into his lips but never deepening, purposefully avoiding what he craves most. keep your hand at the base of his throat to gently apply pressure while you slowly draw closer to him, puffs of breath mingling as his whines get more desperate. if brahms lunges to try and smash your lips together, pull back and tighten your grip. watch his eyes roll back with tears pooling from his need

brahms' favourite punishment is being spanked as he's bent over your knee, cock pressed between your thighs. whenever he jolts, he can thrust into you as his pale skin lights up pink and red - both from your hand and his arousal. make sure to smack his balls a little too, he'll cum like a fountain from the stimulation. brahms truly is a sight to behold whenever he is falling apart by your hand

his second favourite punishment is when you fuck yourself on a dildo smaller than his cock. order him into his prescribed kneeling position - palms flat on his thighs, heels propped up under his ass and back straight - to make him watch you bounce up and down on your toy, giving him a show. watch him intently and you'll see rivulets of sweat trail down his chest as his dick bobs and twitches against his stomach at the lack of stimulation, his heated gaze feasting on the sight of your body with rapt attention. the part that makes his chest ache is your slightly needy and unsatisfied expression you try to hide - brahms knows for a fact that the silicone can't fill you the way he can. although he is more than happy with watching you get off mere feet infront of him, the agonizing thrum of his heartbeat in his cock and white crescents dug into his thighs are testament to how this scenario is effecting him. it's different to his voyeuristic endeavors behind the walls - if he had his way, he would've already busted a load onto the drywall and all over his fist at the sight of you

brahms is a massive fan of ruined orgasms - as long as you shush his yelps and whimpers while pressing kisses into his hairline and stroking his thighs, that is. he needs the comfort during and afterwards, but the raw experience altogether gives him an adrenaline rush

he is also a massive fan of cock milking - keep a small crystal bowl under his tip to catch all his milky cum. the visual of the aftermath, combined with the shaking of his thighs, nearly makes his vision black out with pleasure

brahms' movements are clumsy, and his hands shake from nervousness and reverence every time he touches you and he learns over time how to please and obey you perfectly, but he never shakes his little habit of rutting against you whenever you're nearby

the poor guy has years and years of pent-up sexual frustration and yearning - you are the perfect solution to all of his problems, so don't be surprised if he's selfish with his pleasure every so often

if you straddle him while cuddling and put his head to your chest, his brain fully stops working and all of his blood rushes to his cock. however, unlike every other time you're in a sexual position, his constant need to fuck you is delayed temporarily - he's torn between feeling comforted and extremely turned on, resulting in him being rock hard but comfortably lounging while you run your fingers through his hair. kiss him at your own pace, as he has no rush to be buried in your guts - just don't shift on top of him though, he'll snap out of it and remember what position you're both in :<

brahms has a life mission of reminding you that it's play time at all times of the day, attempting to coax you into letting him seek refuge between your thighs, no matter the situation - be it eating your ass from behind while you cook or caging you against the nearest bench while fucking your soft thighs

call him a pervert for watching you behind the walls and he'll turn bright red out of shame. do him a favour and ignore the bulge he fruitlessly tries to cover his huge bulge with trembling hands

he loves to give you head while you wake, your heavy musk is addictive to him. he's definitely not against you returning the favour the next day or fucking yourself on his morning wood after he's been humping you in his sleep. his favourite thing is to blink away his drowsiness while realising he's buried to the hilt in your tight warmth, pinching your nipples and moaning above him. hopefully you have nothing to do that morning, because the moment he cums, he will be immediately knocked out for another hour

brahms makes himself a little leather collar in his workshop - if you go into town and get an engraved pendant for him, he will go feral and not take it off for weeks :(

if he feels a bit worn out after a round or a mind-blowing orgasm, expect to feel his face nuzzle into the crook of your neck - especially when his softening cock still buried deep inside you. he loves to take a little nap in between rounds while you cockwarm him, it's just easier for your heartbeats to match pace :<

while brahms was in the walls, he had a habit of skulking around while other nannies were working - stroking his cock for a couple of minutes before going back to lounging in his bed or returning to shadow his carer, raging boner being unattended for a while before the whole cycle repeated. this results in him wandering around the house - with either his boxers tented or his bottom half nude, for easy access of course. you have to train him into the habit of wearing pants consistently. this little pattern of his also results in him initiating sexual situations with you - such as grinding, making out or dry humping - before disappearing into a wall in the middle of it, only to reappear a short while later to continue the interaction

he treasures anything you buy for him! what do you mean you got him a rose bouquet and a pretty butt plug with a shiny gem? ... a toy? for him?? he just wants to be loved and getting him any type of gift, especially sex toys, is the perfect way to ensure he knows he is loved and cared for. it validates his intense feelings of love and affection towards you

it's very important to remind him about alternating his clothes - the sour stench of sweat and musty air can cling to his older outfits, so getting him adjusted to wearing fresh clothing you picked out is beneficial to you both

brahmsy often helps himself to your bed and bedding, causing you to be pressed snugly to his lean body with the downy comforter wrapped securely around the two of you. if you're away from your room in the early morning, expect to return to a tall, snoring man bundled in all of you bed linen

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

brahms calls you daddy relentlessly, both in and out of the bedroom, but his cock jumps whenever you reply! the thrum of his heartbeat is palpable in his veins as his eyes glaze over and his reverent gaze trails over your body.

brahmsy begs you to fuck him whenever he's feeling subby, so be sure to let him bounce on your cock - the real reward is the hickeys you leave on his pale chest while he grinds down and clutches your head close to his chest

slap your cock on his hole :( his neck will be aching slightly from his insistence on maintaining eye contact with you as he begs for you to be inside him

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to skull-fuck him while he drools and whimpers at being used like a fleshlight. praise him for taking it so well but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, tip hitting the back of his throat. after he has swallowed your spend, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

brahms is not small in size, not small in any capacity. sometimes his shirts ride up and flash his pale tummy. the trail of dark hair heading south below his waistband teases you every time he helps you with hanging out the clothes. the breeze ruffling your hair does nothing to sway your attention from daydreaming of what lies behind that thin material, below that soft treasure trail that points directly to his pretty cock. brahms is faring no better, as he's fully lost in his head and shooting distracted towards your figure. he's trying to not let his arousal show as he remembers the night before… and no, he is not listening to anything you're saying

never underestimate his drive to please you. he'll go until you're shooting blanks - choking and slobbering all over your length, laving the underside of your cock and toying with your veins. he'll keep bringing you to the edge in record time while he gets drunk off your musk and heady taste - his favourite part of taking you down his throat is the pulsing sensation of your cock as he swallows down your hot cum. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

brahms calls you mommy relentlessly, both in and out of the bedroom, but his cock jumps whenever you reply! the thrum of his heartbeat is palpable in his veins as his eyes glaze over and his adoring gaze trails over your body

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to ride his face while he drools and whimpers at being used like a toy. praise him for taking it so well, but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, grinding down on his tongue. after he has lapped up your arousal, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

brahms daydreams about your lip-gloss, all sticky at the base of his cock as your tight lips suckle around his sensitive tip

he's not small in size - not small in any capacity. whenever he's roaming the estate and you cross paths, the sight of his bulge in those worn grey sweatpants catches you off-guard every single time. the delicious curve of his shaft forms a beautiful indent in the fabric and it makes your mind go deliciously blank for a few moments. don't worry, he's not going to notice your doubletake because brahms is far too invested in staring at your bra strap peeking out from your shirt collar. his brain is full of static the moment he imagines you without your top on, teasing him with your gorgeous fuckin body as you slide down to your knees before him... hm? what were you saying? oh he was not paying attention, you're gonna have to repeat that twice as he wrenches his mind out of the gutter

brahms has a penchant for cumming with his tip pressed against your hole - he loves working you up with his tongue while stroking himself then, while he's about to cum, he pushes himself into you. that tad bit of resistance met against his tip is enough to make his balls tighten and cock spurt hot ropes

never underestimate his drive to please you. every night, his lips are more often than not attached to your sopping pussy, tongue laving your juices as he repeatedly brings you to the edge. he's not gonna stop until you're sticky and numb, until your clit is throbbing in protest - he nudges back the hood to admire your pretty bud, spittle and hot his breath cause you to throb under his tongue. he's obsessed with lapping up the arousal drooling out your cunt. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

brahms calls you sir relentlessly, both in and out of the bedroom, but his cock jumps whenever you reply! the thrum of his heartbeat is palpable in his veins as his eyes glaze over and his devoted gaze trails over your body

he loves being able to have the hand of another man to teach him how to indulge in pleasure. the absolute mind-blowing rush he feels whenever he sinks into your tight heat rivals what he heard heaven was like, especially when you moan so loudly as he strokes your cock

whenever brahms is fucking you from behind, he has a habit of digging his fingers into your soft lower tummy, massaging his fingertips back and forth over his cockhead as he's buried balls deep. his eyes glaze over at the added pressure and drool dribbles onto your back as his jaw goes slack

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to fuck his face while he drools and whimpers at being used like a toy. praise him for taking it so well, but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, grinding down on his tongue. after he has lapped up your arousal, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

brahms is not small in size - not small in any capacity, so sometimes his shirts ride up and flash his pale tummy. the trail of dark hair heading south below his waistband teases you every time he helps you with hanging out the clothes. the breeze ruffling your hair does nothing to sway your attention from daydreaming of what lies behind that thin material, below that soft treasure trail that points directly to his pretty cock. brahms is faring no better, as he's fully lost in his head and shooting distracted towards your figure. he's trying to not let his arousal show as brahms remembers the night before… and no, he is not listening to anything you're saying

never underestimate his drive to please you. every night, his lips are more often than not attached to your sopping tcock, tongue laving your juices as he repeatedly brings you to the edge. he's not gonna stop until you're sticky and numb, until your dick is throbbing in protest - he nudges back the hood to admire your pretty length, spittle and hot his breath cause you to throb under his tongue. he's obsessed with lapping up the arousal drooling out your boycunt. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

imagine his surprise when the pretty, sweet nanny has a bulge under her skirt just like his! his brain short-circuits when he realises you have similar bodies - he's able to transfer his knowledge of pleasure across to you. when he discovers what makes you tick, he practices on himself to get used to it and to hone his technique

he'll sew you a special set of lingerie, with hair bows to match. brahms is a craftsman at heart and nothing makes his heart swell more than watching you showcase his work. he'll fuck you in front of all the mirrors in the house - he wants to see you absolutely fall apart while you display his handiwork. brahmsy truly believes you have the beauty of an angel, that the greatest honour is to have you wear his creation proudly :(

if he has misbehaved and broken vases or trashed the house, make sure to skull-fuck him while he drools and whimpers at being used like a fleshlight. praise him for taking it so well, but remind him why he's being punished as you stroke his hair, tip hitting the back of his throat. after he has swallowed your spend, pet his cheek and let him know how good he's been for taking it like the perfect boy he is

he's not small in size - not small in any capacity. whenever he's roaming the estate and you cross paths outside, the sight of his bulge in those worn grey sweatpants catches you off-guard every single time. the delicious curve of his shaft forms a beautiful indent in the fabric and it makes your mind go deliciously blank for a few moments. don't worry, he's not going to notice your doubletake because brahms is far too invested in staring at your hard nipples making soft peaks in your shirt. his brain is full of static the moment he imagines you without your top on, teasing him with your gorgeous fuckin body as you slide down to your knees before him… hm? what were you saying? oh he was not paying attention, you're gonna have to repeat that twice as he wrenches his mind out of the gutter

never underestimate his drive to please you. he'll go until you're shooting blanks - choking and slobbering all over your length, laving the underside of your girlcock and toying with your veins. he'll keep bringing you to the edge in record time while he gets drunk off your musk and heady taste - his favourite part of taking you down his throat is the pulsing sensation as he swallows down your hot arousal. he's only trying to please you!!

_ _ _ _ _

fuck greta and by extension, fuck malcolm ig. this took a hot minute tbh. am cooking up some more stuff but might take a while.

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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katsukiizmoon · 1 year ago

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╰┈➤ ꒰🍒 ┊Roll On Wax | Katsuki Bakugou꒱ 『♡』 F! Reader, domestic, reader is waxing coochie, established relationship, husband!katsuki, katsuki loves u so he helps lmao, unedited, one suggestive scene at the end 『♡』 I got a new wax roll on kit-- majority of my punani is smooth now. That's how.. this happened.

No because imagine you get a new roll on wax kit and get bold and decide to do your bikini line and coochie. And you're doing it, but holding the skin taut and yanking at the same time isn't a task for the weak.

Cue Katsuki walking in on you with your legs in a butterfly position, shirt in mouth to chew on, yanking strips of wax off of your crotch and thighs. He blinks momentarily, carmine eyes scanning you just to double check that he's really seeing this.

"What're you doin' now?" The blonde exasperates with a sigh, leaning against the bedroom doorway with furrowed brows.

You pause right before pulling off another strip and clamp your legs closed. Your face burns just about as much as the side of your crotch while you formulate a flustered answer.

"Waxing?"

His lips quirk up in amusement, tilting his head to look at where the strip is still stuck to your skin. "...and how's that workin' out for you?"

Katsuki's never been picky about the state of your pubic hair. Hair, no hair, shaven, waxed-- he doesn't really give a damn. Pussy is pussy. Call him a pussy connoisseur. But you wanted it waxed. Shaving has been a pain in the ass lately with all the ingrowns and razor burn you're getting.

"It's. Well it's going." Your hand gestures to the grocery bag of already-used strips and the heated wax roll on to the left of you.

Katsuki strolls forward languidly in his work pants and socks, huffing a little laugh at the sight in front of him. His brows furrow.

"Is it hard?"

"Mmm. Keeping the skin taut while I yank is... proving to be difficult."

Big hands reach for your thighs and you squeal, clamping them closed and pouting up at your husband. He looks confused at your embarrassment and rolls his eyes.

"Quit acting shy, y're pussy ain't anything new to me." His thumbs rub over the fat of your thighs again and slowly coax them open. Your hand reaches to cover up your face and he snorts.

"It's different when I'm waxing n' stuff!" You insist, feeling self conscious for the first time in a long time.

"I've seen you shave your asshole, it really isn't that different, sweetness." He chortles, cooing when you relax your thighs and gesture to the half-done wax job.

Your face never stops burning but you demonstrate and instruct how it's done. He frowns and holds up the wax strip to look at all the hairs and makes a comment on how weird it looks. He gets a smack to the shoulder for that.

He let's you do majority of the work but yanks a few of the hard to reach strips off, pressing the back of his hand to the red area to soothe you after.

"You shouldda just used my card and got it done at the salon." He pulls off the last strip and throws it away, giving you a little pat on the butt once he's finished.

The shower after goes smoothly for a little as you reward him for it in the form of a shoulder massage and kisses. His fingers trail down and slide toward your folds, dipping in momentarily, only for you to grip his wrist with a stern look.

"No sex for three days--"

"Goddamnit." A huff and sigh.

You lower down to your knees with a quirked brow. Ignoring the water hitting you in the face as he catches on and reaches for the roots of your hair with a grin.

#[ short ]#[ katsuki ]#[ drabbles ]#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader

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kanencrow · 1 month ago

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The Father who Stepped up - Shauna Shipman | One Shot

Summary: When Shauna gives birth to her baby boy, she finds herself designating you as 'the father who stepped up' after she experiences first-hand how nurturing you are to something so innocent and defenseless. It helps her simultaneously come to terms with the fact that she's a mother, and it also allows her to realize that she's actually kind of into you, too.

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Themes, Descriptions of Cannibalism, Talks of Jackie’s Death.

A/N: All characters are 18+ by default, and the reader is gender neutral (no pronouns were used). I'm tempted to do a part two that consists of more domestic stuff amongst you and Shauna because I don't think I added as much I could've in this one shot, but I'm not sure if anyone would want that, so let me know in my inbox!

Word Count: 10000+

It’s like clockwork for Shauna.

She wakes up every single night, at a time where the sun is completely gone, and the room she’s been cooped up in after giving birth is pitch black. Even the illumination of the moon doesn’t peek through the window, and so it only makes it more difficult for her to function when the almost habitual crying of her son sounds off the moment she preemptively wakes up. It’s gotten to a point where her body naturally rouses a few minutes before the baby starts to fuss – like it just knows that her time for sleep is going to get interrupted. It only makes her all the more frustrated and sad, because she values her rest, and she feels that no one wants to take the time to help her care for him.

Shauna’s sleep deprived and grumpy, even as she gathers her aching body and slowly gets up from the bed she’s practically been rotting on for the past few days. Bearing a child with a body that was weak from malnutrition and lack of water was far worse than any traumatic thing she had gone through in the past. So she can’t help the way she groans and whines while she walks over to the makeshift crib you and Van had put together using sticks, leaves, and rocks. It was a nice gift from the two of you, since it gave her a place to put the baby, just so there wasn’t that worry of rolling on top of him while she slept in bed.

And sure, it made her have to get up more than she wanted, but the thought of losing her son because she wasn’t careful was something that didn’t sit right in her chest. She’d been meaning to thank you and Van for the thoughtfulness, but both of you had been so busy with chores around the cabin – and she could barely walk as is – so it just made the entire task all the more difficult. But with the way neither one of you looked expectant in receiving that form of appreciation, there was a part of her that didn’t find herself rushing in trying to convey how she felt towards the gesture.

Using it was thanks in itself, right?

She expected the baby to start crying the moment she made it to said crib, but all she got as she rested her hands at the edge of the makeshift bed was complete and utter radio silence. She couldn’t ignore the way her heart jumps to her throat, a rush of anxiety coursing through her like a lightning bolt as the thought of him being dead enters her mind, and when she reaches down into the cradle – only to feel nothing but the blanket she laid out for him – it only forces her worry to skyrocket. Maybe she’s dreaming again, having some sort of nightmare about her boy dying, but she can feel the blanket – the soft fleece against her fingertips, so she knows she’s not asleep.

So, of course, that makes Shauna wonder. Where the fuck is her baby?

There’s that flash of an image that courses through her mind – a reminder of one of the night terrors she had in regards to her baby boy just a couple days ago. How she heard his screams and his cries, only to find him being used as everyone’s form of satiation. She remembers their blood smeared faces and red teeth as they chewed and chewed and chewed–

“Shauna?”

It’s like a bullet shoots through her back the moment she hears the softness of your voice fill the otherwise silent air of the cabin. It’s muffled at first, like she’s stuck in a bubble, but then her brain fully snaps out of the weird stupor she found herself in – the one full of fear and anxiety and distrust – and that’s when she suddenly recognizes the incoherent coo of her baby. You took him, she thinks to herself, and there’s a subtle emotion of anger and discontent towards that fact, but she also knows you – even if you haven’t talked to her nearly as much as the others have. Though even then, she knows that you wouldn’t do any of what her mind previously conjured up through dreams and intrusive thoughts.

That’s all it is. Her mind. Playing tricks on her.

Because you’re kind, you’re careful – gentle – and, even if she didn’t think so when she first woke up, you’re sure as hell one of the only people who’s put in a valiant effort in trying to help her. Both throughout her pregnancy, and even now. Unlike Lottie, who acted like the biological father and insisted that her own child was some sort of incoming prophet, that he was going to change everything. But then you just stuck around, acting as some sort of safety net for her when she needed someone or something to fall back on. Because after losing Jackie, everything felt broken, like a train had gone off the rails and there was no way of pushing it back on track.

But then you wiggled your way in, through soft words and empathetic or sympathetic glances, and she found herself letting you step through the tiny door of her heart. Because even though the thought of anyone seeing her as weak or incapable of taking care of herself made her want to recoil and die, she couldn’t deny that she needed it, and she couldn’t deny that she wanted you of all people to help her. And maybe that didn’t entirely sit well in her stomach for a good while – or even now, for that matter. That feeling of distrust towards everyone weighed her down, but you were insistent – in a good way, and so she found herself slowly getting over her own fear for the sake of eventually letting you in.

So she should have known you had taken him.

She forgot.

She could only blame that on her fatigue.

By the time Shauna turned around to look at you, the baby emitted a quiet coo, as his tiny hands reached up and grabbed at your fingers that you blindly wiggled down at him with your free limb. You were cradling him with your left arm, his head propped up by your bicep as he kicked his feet in the form of a stretch, but you were far more focused on the brunette before you, who looked completely distracted. It was hard to see her, but with the moon having peeked out from behind the trees it was once hiding behind, there was a slight glow on her face, which allowed you to take in the way she stood frozen in her stance and just… stared at you and her kid.

The little baby in your arms was none the wiser, clearly in his element and content with using your fingers as his own personal form of entertainment. It helped you focus entirely on Shauna, though, when you tilted your head to the side slightly and spoke up, letting your voice break through the long-standing silence that almost suffocated the air. “You okay?” It was a simple question, but it held meaning, an intention, with the way your tone portrayed a genuineness to it. You were curious – maybe concerned, she wasn’t sure, but when you stepped forward slightly, trying to act as a form of comfort, it helped her confirm the fact that you weren’t putting on a facade, just to make her feel like she mattered.

You actually do think she matters.

She realized that, even with how slow her mind was being.

“I was looking for him,” Shauna managed to utter. The response was sudden, and it almost made you flinch with how she didn’t really try to whisper amongst the two of you. But you weren’t offended, or mad for that matter. Just surprised, if not a little endeared by her lack of thoughtfulness. Because you know she’s tired, and you know that if she was wide awake, she probably would have actually put in an effort in keeping her voice down for the sake of not waking anyone up, or rousing the boy in your arms into a state of panic. But luckily, he’s clueless, stuck in his own little world that consisted of him holding your fingers like they were joysticks to an atari.

“He’s right here,” you quietly assured, after a moment, as you settled your palm against his tiny belly and allowed him to lift your fingers up and down. He was so small, only about a week old, but for such a young little guy, he had been pretty responsive. “I noticed that you haven’t been getting any sleep ever since he came into the world,” you added on, shrugging your shoulders subtly, while Shauna shifted her eyes away from your own to stare down at the baby boy, who struggled to stay awake, as you bounced him slightly in your arms. His eyelids fluttered, and his stubby legs stretched out to hang off either side of your forearm, while you let out the softest huff you could muster, and continued. “I couldn’t sleep tonight, so I wanted to help.”

Shauna hears your words, and she quickly takes them to heart, which causes her brow to furrow in thought, before she lifts her brown eyes away from her son to look up at you instead. “You didn’t have to do that,” she told you, as though she were almost scolding you. But you could only shrug her off with a shake of your head, knowing that she was just saying that to make herself seem stronger. Which – she was strong – but she also didn’t have to be.

Not for this, at least.

“I wanted to,” you quietly mumbled, as you stepped closer to her and sent her a small smile through the darkness of the room. You weren’t even sure if she could see the expression on your face, but you didn’t seem to find it in you to care, when you maneuvered past her and lowered the already sleeping child back into the crib. It forced Shauna to turn her body and watch you, and as you cradled his head and guided it to rest on the little bump underneath the blanket you were laying him onto, it caused her stomach to unintentionally flutter.

She wasn’t surprised that you were so delicate with the boy. Still, it managed to push her into a state of awe, as you slipped your hands out from underneath his body and stood back up to your full height. Through the darkness, she could see the way you stared down at him, admiring the way he peacefully spread out across the blanket, like a little starfish. And his fingers curling into fists were enough to convey to you that he had fully fallen asleep. It meant that your work in helping Shauna rest was done, and as you nodded to yourself and stepped back from the crib to silently make your leave, the brunette ended up reaching out and grabbing a hold of your wrist.

It was surprising to her that you were thinking of leaving without saying anything, but after spending so many months with you in the wilderness, she guessed that she couldn’t be shocked. You’ve always been quiet, always kept to yourself and spoke to others only when they would speak to you. But that was a while back. Now you seemed a little more outgoing, but there was still a subtle shyness to you. Especially with the way you tensed slightly at her touch, and slowly turned around to look at her, as though you thought you were in trouble. However, you weren’t, and you seemed to recognize that when her fingers tightened slightly to squeeze your joint.

“Thank you,” Shauna stated, “really.”

You replied back with a simple nod and a sheepish smile. And that was when she let go of your wrist and allowed you to take a few steps towards the door and exit the room. And even then, you were as quiet as a mouse and mindful of the resting boy in the crib, and she couldn’t help but feel a certain type of way about you in turn.

It was a good feeling, though.

—————————————————————————

It was the crackling of the fireplace that acted as a form of ambiance to your mind, as you reclined along the window-side seat and stared out through the pane of glass. Your legs remained stretched out in front of you, socked feet moving mindlessly back and forth, while the incoherent murmurs of your teammates sounded off throughout the rest of the cabin, accompanying the resonation of wood crackling under intense heat. Snow fell from outside, coating the ground in even more of the white powder that had been nothing but unforgiving for the past two months, and you couldn’t help but wish for spring to come soon because of it.

There was a feeling that settled inside of your chest – intuition – that told you it was going to eventually melt away. Considering how often the sun had come out as of recent, it made sense. But for now, it was still cold, and you were more than happy to stay inside and admire the outer world from the comfort of the building you’ve been living in. Especially after spending the majority of the day doing chores, chopping wood that you took from the meat shed or shoveling the porch with the intention of keeping you and everyone else from being snowed in. Again.

Your cheeks felt frozen by the time you stepped back inside of the cabin, but at least the fireplace was roaring with life, and at least Misty was there to give you a hot cup of water. She always made sure to do her part, and whether it was by helping or speaking up to give some sort of logical statement towards a certain idea or discussion, you appreciated her… quirks and all. And, sure, you would have definitely preferred hot chocolate or tea when she did gift you the treat, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and so you found yourself feeling thankful either way.

“My god, can you just stop squirming, please?”

Mari’s voice managed to break out amongst the rest of the softer sounds that echoed throughout the cabin, and just from the frustration in her voice, you could tell that she was the one who had been tasked with taking care of the baby. Even after months of him being alive, Shauna still hadn’t named him, and a part of you was convinced she never would, with how her features always shifted into an expression of melancholy and deep, intense thought whenever she scrutinized the face of her child. You could understand that she was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was a mom, and although you kept a respectful distance – not wanting to push anything or cross a boundary, you did want to help.

You had, in ways that consisted of making sure he didn’t keep her up at night with his crying. You were more than willing to deprive yourself of sleep for the sake of Shauna having her beauty rest, and it wasn’t like the little dude disliked you or anything. He always seemed happy to be in your arms when you paid him a late night visit and moved out of the brunette’s room to go and sit by the window bench. That spot always gave you front row seats to the moon and the way it shined through to act as his personal nightlight, and you cherished the moment, all while you slowly rocked him back to sleep with his head against your chest. But that was really the extent of your aid, other than feeding him or keeping an eye on him when no one else could.

But you did find yourself curious as to what Mari was doing. Especially with the way she huffed and puffed about the baby boy and his desire to wiggle like that of a worm. The thought of him giving her a hard time made you sneakily smirk to yourself as you swung your legs off the bench, and the moment you turned your body to look towards the kitchen, you stood up to your full height, all while your eyes caught sight of the girl trying to put a – poorly made – knitted hat on his head. You weren’t sure who made it, but it certainly didn’t look like something someone would wear. And if they did… they sure as hell wouldn’t be able to make it look good.

Even if it was on someone as cute as Shauna’s son.

He was sitting on the table, and with the way he let out a little whine and grumpily swung his arms up and down, you could tell that he didn't want the hat on his head. But Mari was incessant, muttering something about how it’ll keep him warm, and you could only roll your eyes, as you walked towards the kitchen and scrutinized the scene with an intention of saving the little boy from the girl’s control. Which seemed to go as well as it could, when she eventually lifted her focus away from him and looked at you instead, noticing your presence the moment the floor creaked beneath your feet. It didn’t take her long to let out a huff, before she picked up the baby by his waist and held him out to you as though he was some sort of toy.

“Here, take him,” Mari grumbled, “I can’t deal with it anymore.” Her patience was practically nonexistent, which wasn’t something you were ignorant to. You remembered the time where she almost strangled Travis because he wouldn’t stop complaining the first week you and everyone else crash-landed in the middle of the forest, so it wasn’t surprising that she was experiencing it in the current moment. Granted, you couldn’t necessarily blame her, but maybe she wasn’t the best person to rely on when it came to babysitting Shauna’s kid.

So, you were swift in reaching up and pulling the boy into the comfort of your arms, before you settled him onto your hip, and when he immediately rested his head onto your shoulder and tightened his fingers to ball up the fabric of your Wiskayok Yellowjackets hoodie, you felt your heart swell in your chest, discreetly relishing in the way he seemed so comfortable with you. Mari even seemed to don an expression of surprise herself – with a mixture of jealousy – too, when her eyes glanced down to look at the boy, who made a point to direct his attention somewhere else, as though he was holding a grudge against the girl in front of you.

Like mother, like son, you think.

It was kind of an amusing sight, and you found yourself huffing lightheartedly, as you cradled his butt with your limbs and spoke up. “I don’t think that hat fits him, by the way.” You gave her a teasing look, only to glance down at the child in your hold for the sake of making sure he was okay. And he was, with the way his eyes were now closed, all while he breathed contently against your collarbone and continued to grip the fabric of your hoodie like a lifeline.

“He was just being difficult,” Mari mumbled, seemingly ignoring your statement and deeming it as incorrect, while she folded her arms over her chest and moved her eyes down to look at the boy, too. “It would’ve fit if he just stopped moving.”

You found yourself humming at her words, but the sound was entirely mindless, “Whatever you say.” It wasn’t long before you turned your head away from her and took a moment to glance around the vicinity of the cramped cabin. There was an intent in the action, and when you didn’t find who you were subconsciously looking for, you allowed your eyes to fall back onto Mari, while you sent her a look of wonder. “Do you know where Shauna is?”

“Why?” Mari uttered, a certain glint of… something you couldn’t entirely decrypt suddenly forming in her brown eyes, but when the corner of her lip curled up into a smirk, it gave you the slightest inkling that she was finding your question comical. “Miss her?” And you came out to be correct, which made you immediately scoff at her question, and it only caused that small smile to break out into a grin on her cheeks, “What? Don’t act like you haven’t been trying to worm your way into her heart,” she said, “you’re almost worse than Lottie. With her whole ‘our baby’ thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to help her out,” you stated, as you bashfully lowered your eyes, pretending to be occupied with the baby in your arms, who continued to rest comfortably within them. “It’s not easy being a single mom, and I don’t think Lottie’s whole ‘your baby is the key to make the wilderness happy’ bit is really helpful, either,” you added on, as heat rose to your cheeks at the distant thought of being perceived as some sort of lap dog for Shauna. And, granted, your valiant effort to defend her definitely didn’t help your case, but you couldn’t help it, considering the fact that Lottie had been a little… off ever since the baby boy was born.

You weren’t unaware of the way she would just stare at you whenever you carried Shauna’s son. It was hard to understand if she was jealous of the sight, or if she had something on her mind and simply didn’t know how to address it. But maybe you were also overthinking it, and honestly, you couldn’t – and didn’t necessarily want to – bring yourself to think about it in the current moment, which caused you to quietly clear your throat, before you stepped back and gently hoisted the boy in your arms up to rest more comfortably on your hip. “Where’s Shauna?” you questioned again.

“I don’t know.” Mari shrugged, “Not here, clearly.”

Always the smartass, you thought to yourself, before you rolled your eyes and let out a heavy breath. It wasn’t long before you turned around and walked away from Mari, successfully deeming her as the most unhelpful person in the group, and you ultimately decided to search for Shauna on your own. The only place you could think she would be was the single bedroom within the cabin, and so you found yourself padding in that direction unconsciously, which caused the boy in your arms to tighten his grip on your hoodie, due to your movement. You weren’t even sure if she was going to be in there, but it was the only idea you had when it came to where she might have been, and so you went with the idea, secretly hoping you’d come out to be right.

The murmurs of the rest of the group ended up disappearing by the time you eventually turned the corner and made it to the door, and when you noticed it slightly ajar, you didn't think anything of it, as you pressed on and pushed it open. It creaked, signifying its age, and you winced, as you glanced down at the baby in your arms, hoping that the high-pitch resonation didn’t stir him from his slumber. You were thankful, though, when all you received in return was a tiny grunt from him that portrayed his unconscious state, and it quelled the worry of possibly waking him up. His features were still relaxed, stuck deep in dreamland while he slightly drooled on your hoodie, and with a small smile at the sight, you lifted your head up to look forward.

You immediately froze in your place when your eyes fell onto Shauna.

The last thing you expected to see was her back, which was covered in nothing but the strap of her charcoal-colored bra and showing off her pallid skin-tone that was complimented by the few freckles that adorned it. They scattered across the expanse of her flesh like stars in the sky, and your pupils naturally flickered back and forth to admire each one. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, with the way your breath silently hitched in your throat, and a weight of something you couldn’t describe settled within your stomach. It wasn’t a negative feeling by any means, but you couldn’t deny the way you felt like some sort of pervert for having waltzed in without so much as knocking.

You found yourself regretting your actions, though there was no way for you to rewind time or pretend like you had never stepped into the room to begin with. Especially when Shauna seemingly sensed your presence, as though she had some sort of sixth sense, and slowly turned her head to glance over her shoulder, peering at you with a form of curiosity in her brown eyes. You stood there, all the while, probably looking like an idiot, with the way you stared at her with a wide gaze and held her child in your arms stiffly. But you couldn’t find it in you to consciously assess how odd you might have come across. All you could do was stutter out some sort of apology, as you parted your lips and felt your stomach leap to your throat. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to just – uh…”

Your voice trailed, and there was a certain air to Shauna’s demeanor that kept you from continuing, when you saw the ghost of an endeared smile fall onto her lips, before she turned back around and reached down to grab an old black band t-shirt that was tattered and had clearly seen better days. You remained idle in your spot, standing in front of the door as though you were a deer stuck in a pair of headlights, and as you dumbly watched the brunette pull the top over her head and allow it to fall down to cover her torso, there was a subtle feeling of disappointment that filled your chest.

But you attempted to ignore it, while you swallowed and waited for her to reply.

“Knocking exists, you know,” she uttered quietly, as she slowly turned around to completely face you, and lowered herself to sit down on the bed she had originally grabbed her shirt from. There was a subtle tone of lightheartedness in her voice, but you still felt embarrassment fill your body, as she gave you a tired, teasing look with her brown eyes and tilted her head to the side slightly. She clearly wasn’t offended by your intrusion, much to your own surprise, and that was when you found the ability to move your legs again, when you took a short step forward and bowed your head apologetically.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “I should’ve…”

Shauna shook her head and shrugged, “It’s fine.”

You decided to keep your lips tightly wound after her response, pressing them together tightly, and you treaded carefully as you sluggishly walked further into the room. Your legs kicked out slightly as you moved, and your eyes flickered around to take in the vicinity that you had found yourself in far more than you probably should have. Ever the conversationalists, neither one of you knew what to say next. Should you have said, ‘hey, here’s your baby,’ as though you were some pizza delivery person? That probably wouldn’t have been a good idea, considering he wasn’t food. But you didn’t know what else to do, except sit down beside her and silently hand her the child…

But even then, that didn’t feel right.

“Is he sleeping?”

Shauna’s question broke through your muddled thoughts, and you found yourself immediately letting out a quiet breath of relief in turn, which was something you hoped she didn’t hear. When your eyes moved away from a random wall inside the room to meet her brown ones again, it didn’t seem like she picked up on the sound you made, when she simply stared at you with a certain type of earnestness that left you feeling warm inside. Her unwavering gaze after she inquired was enough to create a ball inside of your throat, and you found yourself trying to force it down with a swallow, as you slowly looked back down at the boy in your arms and nodded.

“Yeah,” you affirmed, “he is.” Your verbal confirmation was the last thing you said, before you eventually made it close to her bed and sat down beside her. The mattress barely dipped with how firm and old it was, but you could still see the way she faintly jostled from the added weight, out of the corner of your eye. You found yourself focusing entirely on her son, though, when you gently maneuvered him in your arms and cradled him like he was a week old again. He was still light, easy to hold without feeling as though your limbs were about to fall off, but his hair had grown in, and it was blond.

A dirty blond.

His eyes were brown, though, and his nose looked like it was going to develop into a shape like Shauna’s, the older he got. That cute, slightly imperfect bridge that you always admired whenever you caught sight of the brunette’s side profile. His round face and little lips looked just like hers as well, and you found yourself fascinated and almost amused at how he barely looked like Jeff. Even with the blond hair that hadn’t fully grown in yet and made the little boy look like an old man who was balding. It was surreal, in a way. How the girl beside you had managed to create such a beautiful soul through an ongoing situation that left all of you feeling hopeless and dreadful.

“I’m sorry.”

It was the words of Shauna again that tugged you out of your daydream. You found yourself blinking a few times, and when you slowly pulled your eyes away from her son to gaze at her, she was already staring at you, looking into your irises with her brown ones that the baby in your arms carried, too. You had to stop yourself from admiring other parts of her face for the sake of conveying to her that you were listening, and when you mindlessly creased your brow in confusion towards her apology, she took that as her chance to continue, as she scooted closer to you and flickered her focus down towards the child you were holding.

“I haven’t really been present,” she explained, clarifying herself, with a tone that conveyed shame, “for him.” You glanced down at her mouth for a split second, taking in the way that they were chapped and had dried-up blood on them, which you realized must have been from her anxiously nipping at her lips. Not only that, but it was also the winter, so you weren’t surprised, but even with the sight that didn’t necessarily look pleasant, you still found your stomach fluttering, before you shifted your attention back up to meet her gaze once again.

You inevitably shook your head, finding your voice, “It’s okay,” you whispered, “I know things have been… hard, for you.” It was difficult to know what to say to help her feel better, but you put in a valiant effort to tread lightly, which seemed to work in your favor, when she slowly deflated and decided to lean closer to you and lower her head against your shoulder. The heavy sigh she let out shortly after was enough to convey that she’d been needing some form of comfort, and although you tensed slightly, you let her have it, as you continued and glanced down at the baby in your arms. “It’s not easy having a kid and then being expected to take care of it after everything that’s happened.”

“I did it to myself,” Shauna mumbled, as she pressed her thigh against yours and mindlessly plucked at the fabric of her t-shirt, “I shouldn’t have meddled with my best friend's love life.” Even with being trapped in the wilderness, there was still a certain air of intelligence in the way she spoke, and you couldn’t help the way the corner of your lip curled up, as you slowly nodded your head in response to her statement. “Now I’m paying for it.” Her tone was dry, ultimately, and you weren't sure if it was because of the fact that she didn’t have it in her to be sad about what happened, or if she was simply angry at herself now, for what she did.

“At least he doesn’t look like Jeff,” you replied quietly, trying to lighten the mood in your own way, which caused Shauna to scoff dryly, as she pressed her cheek deeper into your shoulder and stared down at the sleeping boy in your arms. “Clearly your genes are stronger.”

The conversation lulled slightly, but you weren’t surprised, when Shauna silently reached her hand out and wiped her thumb over the corner of her baby’s mouth. Dried spit, you realized, was what she was trying to make disappear, and it reminded you of the little stain you had on your hoodie from his drool, which created an emotion of amusement that fluttered through your chest as you watched her gently tend to her kid. It wasn’t a common occurrence. It was like she was scared to touch him, or hold him, or even be in a room alone with him. But at the same time, she was equally protective. She had mixed feelings, obviously, and you had a feeling as to why that was.

And you didn’t want to bring it up.

But it was nice to see her attentiveness, even if it was something that was short-lived, when she inevitably pulled her hand back from his face, and let it fall onto her lap. “I haven’t even named him,” she suddenly stated, and when you turned your head slightly to look down at her, she pulled her cheek away from your shoulder and sat back up to stare down at the floor between her legs. “I don’t even know how to be a mom,” she added on, and you frowned faintly, before you slowly stood up to your full height and ambled over to the boys’ crib, letting her words drift off into the air, while you settled him against the makeshift bed you and Van created for him, and tucked him under a shirt that acted as a blanket for his small body.

“No one does at first,” you eventually replied, pulling your hands away from him, before you stepped back from the crib and turned around to look at Shauna, who bounced her knee up and down anxiously, not meeting your gaze. “No one gives you a rule book on how to be a parent, Shauna,” you reminded her, “it’s not easy… but that’s why we’re here–”

“You.”

Shauna’s mumble cut you off, and you paused to scrutinize her, “What?”

“You’re here,” she said, as she slowly lifted her head up to meet your eyes, “not them.” Your features faintly flinched in surprise, and when you shifted in your stance and shoved your hands into the pockets of your pajama pants that were just as tattered as all your other clothes, she continued. “You’ve been the only one who’s, like… actually helped me ever since I had him,” she explained, “I mean, other than Van, who helped make the crib with you, you’ve been here to take care of him, while I’ve just…” her voice trailed off, and she shrugged her shoulders, clearly at a loss for what else to say.

“You’ve got other stuff to deal with,” you uttered, trying to defend her from herself.

But Shauna shook her head, while you slowly trailed back towards the bed and watched her intently. “Like wallowing and resenting my own child who hasn’t done anything to deserve it?” You let out a deep breath when you turned around and lowered yourself to sit down beside her, and as your brow creased into a look of thought, she felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. “I’ve been the worst mom – you’re more of a parent than I am–”

“Shauna, stop,” you stated, shaking your head, before you looked at her and watched the way she pulled her face out of her hands and sighed shakily, “you’re not a bad mom,” you told her, “I mean… it’s normal to feel like shit after giving birth,” you added on, with the intention of making her feel less guilty, “postpartum depression is a thing, and you’re probably dealing with that on top of… y’know.” Shauna’s brow furrowed at your words, and when she shifted her brown eyes to meet yours, you could tell she was confused by how you knew that, which caused you to quickly clarify, as you shrugged. “I paid attention in health class.”

“Of course you did,” Shauna laughed out, her voice thick with emotion, as she shook her head and smiled sadly at your words. You chuckled quietly in response to her reaction, feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest towards the fact that you made her giggle, but when she sniffled and glanced down to stare at a certain spot on your face, you felt your heart leap to your throat. “How come we never really talked… before all of this?” she questioned suddenly, as her pupils fluttered back up to meet your gaze, not allowing you the chance to truly dwell on the subtle action, “We were on the same team, yet we barely ever spoke to each other.”

“Was kinda intimidated by you, actually,” you mumbled sheepishly, which caused her to give you an expression of disbelief, clearly unable to understand what might have been so scary about her. And it caused you to shrug your shoulders, as you shyly turned your head away and stared down at your lap, suddenly feeling small. Like you were exposed entirely. “I don’t know… I always wanted to talk to you, but I just… couldn’t?” You pursed your lips and pressed your palms together, and when you intertwined your fingers, you felt your cheeks heat up as you breathed in deeply and confessed through an exhale, “Guess I was just too scared to talk to a girl that I thought was pretty.”

At your words, Shauna could only stare at you, her brown eyes focusing on the defined features of your side profile and the way you clenched your jaw tightly out of nervousness, as you stared contemplatively at the floor. Your nostrils flared with a breath, and her heart thudded against her ribcage once that only signified the way your words made her feel. It was a random beat at first, but then it happened again, and again, and again. It cemented her feelings – the way you had secretly made her feel over the span of two months hitting her like an unforgiving truck, and it caused her to swallow thickly, as she broke her focus away from your face and gazed down at your hands instead.

She wasn’t sure what to say, and it was obvious that the silence that ensued wasn’t one that made either one of you feel comfortable. You shifted awkwardly in your spot, your face feeling flush, while Shauna lost herself in her own mind and continued to stare down at your interwoven fingers. It felt as though you were sixteen again, dealing with your first crush and experiencing mental gymnastics when it came to how you were going to confess that you liked the person you had eyes for. And granted, you were older now, but after spending… however many months in the wilderness, it felt like your social skills had vanished, and you were left ignorant again.

As well as a fool that had no grasp on how to say, ‘I like you’ to a cute girl.

It felt like hours had passed – when in actuality it was a minute, before you eventually cleared your throat awkwardly and lifted your chin to allow your eyes to shift away from the floor and towards Shauna’s instead. Your lips parted, as if to try and say something – or to defend yourself for what you had already stated – but nothing came out. And while the brunette seemed to find herself frozen in the way she continued to gaze down at your tense hands, you studied her expression, noticing how her features were taut with contemplation and something deeper, but indecipherable.

“I’m sorry.”

You suddenly apologized, without thinking, and when your voice – soft throughout the air – broke through the clouded thoughts of Shauna’s mind, that was when she blinked and jolted back into reality. Her brown eyes snapped up to your face, feeling them sting with unshed tears, and your brow furrowed to express your genuine guilt for making her feel uncomfortable. But she wasn’t uncomfortable. She was just… shocked. And confused. Because she had always been used to being second best, or stuck in the shadow of someone who was deemed as far more important than she ever could be. But even when Jackie was alive and she was actively experiencing the woes of being ‘the sidekick’ and ‘just the best friend,’ you still noticed her.

Still saw her as Shauna Shipman.

Not Jackie’s best friend.

And it made her angry that you waited so fucking long to say something.

To give her any sort of idea that you liked her.

Maybe it was the postpartum hormones that made Shauna swell with a mixture of frustration and sadness, or maybe it was just her, and it had nothing to do with the after effects of her giving birth. Either way, you saw a tear slip from the corner of her brown eye, and she could feel the salty droplet and the way it streaked down her cheek in an almost poetically depressing way. It only caused your breath to hitch in your throat, the guilt in your chest increasing drastically, and when you tried to reach your hand up to wipe away the stain, she grabbed your wrist, halting your movement, just as your fingers grazed over the skin of her face.

“Shit, I’m sorry–”

Ever the apologist, Shauna cut you off before you could complete your sentence, when she pushed your wrist down to pin it against your lap and suddenly leaned forward to press her lips against your own. The action was done with a swiftness that left your mind reeling and your body tensing as your body leaned back slightly, but when she unconsciously squeezed your joint that she held onto like a lifeline, you snapped out of your shock. The roughness of her mouth – chapped and dry – against your own, wasn’t unwanted. Especially not when you had been wanting to kiss her for the past year and a half. So it only made sense to relax into it, when you breathed out through your nose and allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

You promptly followed her lead, creating a game that consisted of her pushing and you pulling, as your lips parted to slot together like a perfect puzzle piece. Her grip tightened on your joint all the more, and although her fingernails lightly dug into your skin, it wasn’t enough to get you to move away from her. If anything, it urged you closer to her, when you reached up with your free hand and cupped her cheek. Your mouths moved together, quiet sounds of them smacking together intermixing with the soft breaths that the two of you let out, and before you could even realize what was happening, you were being pushed back against the firm mattress, which allowed her to pin your wrist she grasped above your head, while your other palm fell away from her face to rest against your stomach.

Shauna pulled her lips away from you in that same moment, and when you let out a quiet pant and fluttered your eyes open, she was already looking down at you with a certain emotion in her brown irises. You weren’t sure what it meant, but with how hazy your mind felt, and with how quick your heart thumped inside of your chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to grow concerned. Especially not with the way she loomed over you, and allowed her fingers to finally loosen around your wrist. Your focus shifted in turn, to watch her as she slid them up and over your palm, before they curled between your own and eventually intertwined in a way that felt like a perfect fit.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” you mumbled, after a moment, as your eyes shifted back to meet the brunette’s. But Shauna could only shake her head dismissively, not wanting to talk about feelings, before she leaned down and pressed her lips against yours once again.

You immediately reciprocated that time, no longer hesitant to succumb to the concept of loving her, and when you happily hummed against her mouth, she felt her stomach flip, as a weight of tension slipped off of her shoulders.

Just like water.

—————————————————————————

There was something oddly therapeutic about the sounds of a baby giggling. The belly laughs that were infectious and left anyone who heard them grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. That may or may not have been you in the current moment, as you watched as Shauna blew raspberries into her boys’ belly from where he laid on her bed. His arms and legs swung back and forth to signify just how ticklish her actions had made him, and you felt your heart swell with affection towards the two, while you watched her pull herself up to look down at him with an expression on her face that conveyed nothing but admiration and love towards the child.

She named him Jackson.

Because although she had her own personal qualms about Jackie, the thought of forgetting her like a distant memory wasn’t something Shauna could ever fathom, and you couldn’t blame her for it. You remembered having the conversation with her, shortly after you and her started dating, and you were all for it, because you knew how much she loved her best friend, even if the last time they spoke didn’t end on the best terms. She saw it as a form of an apology, in her own way. And although you didn’t fully understand – not nearly as well as she did – you went along with it, because it was her choice in the end, and there was no way in hell you were going to control what she did.

Besides, Jackson was a cute name.

It fit him.

You snapped back into reality when a little fist smacked against your cheek, and you were quick to jolt back slightly, as you blinked and looked down at Jackson, who clearly wasn’t aware of what he had just done. He was far too focused on Shauna tickling his sides teasingly, and when he let out a high-pitch squeal as she picked him up, you chuckled softly, before your eyes flickered up to look at your girlfriend, who seemed a lot happier than two months ago, when you shared your first kiss with her. There was a certain glow to her. One that radiated from under all the dirt and grime that seemed to stain her face, even after washing it with water at the lake just an hour ago, and it made you happy in turn.

She would never fully heal, you knew that. None of you would, realistically… once you all got out of this mess. But at least she was searching for the good in things now, trying to actively find optimism, rather than the pessimism she had been so used to embodying. And you were well aware that she would always be Shauna. The girl who didn’t get as excited over the things that you or other people would. Or the girl who found far more enjoyment in staying in and reading a book, rather than going out and mingling with people at a party she didn’t truly want to attend. Hell, even now, stuck in the wilderness, she acted like a ghost who occasionally payed the rest of the cabin a visit.

But it wasn’t a bad thing.

It would never be a bad thing.

“Hey. Earth to Y/n?”

You blinked back into reality the moment Shauna’s voice broke through the fog of your mind, and you quickly realized that your eyes had fallen back down without you knowing, which ended in you intensely staring at the spot Jackson had once been laying. All that sat there now was a vacant spot, and it left the brunette feeling slightly worried. Especially with the way your gaze sat unwavering, simply focused down at the sheets, as though they were the most interesting thing in the world to you. It was obvious enough to you that she had put her son down to rest for the remainder of the day, and as you let out a quiet exhale through your nose and flickered your eyes up to meet your girlfriend’s, you rolled over onto your back and raised your brow in silent questioning.

“Hm?” You attempted to play off your daydream with a lackadaisical demeanor, but when Shauna scrunched her features up in both perplexity and concern, you knew you had failed miserably. Her brown eyes practically bored into yours, and you couldn’t bring yourself to avert your gaze, as you watched her move and sit back down on the mattress, before she clasped her hands together, so that they could rest comfortably in her lap, and gave you a certain look.

“What do you mean, ‘hm’?” she teased lightly with a smirk, as she shook her head in amusement towards your poor ability to play off your bout of distraction. She crossed her legs over the other in that same moment, and when you shrugged your shoulders and sluggishly pushed yourself up into a sitting position, she tilted her head to the side and sent you an expression that conveyed nothing but genuine curiosity. “What were you doing?” she asked, while you stared at her silently, like someone who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

“Just thinkin’,” you admitted, giving her another shrug, as the corners of your lips quirked up faintly. Shauna only rolled her eyes at your simple statement, and when you let out a quiet huff in response, she used your reaction as proof that you were okay.

Though, even then, your vague explanation gave her the excuse to scoot closer to you, and you found yourself mindlessly leaning into her, as she reached her hand up to cup your cheek. “About what?” She gently rubbed the pad of her calloused thumb over the skin that sat underneath your eye, the touch almost featherlight in the way it felt against you. And you pressed into the feeling, almost melting against the warmth of her palm that cradled the side of your face, which caused her to smile softly in turn, finding satisfaction in how comfortable you were to her affection.

“You,” you eventually replied, before you raised a hand up and curled your fingers around her wrist, “and Jackson.” You gently held the joint in your grasp and turned your head slightly to press your lips against the heel of her palm, “Thinking about how so much has changed. In a good way.” You tugged it away from your face to bring that part of her body down into your lap, and she felt her heart warm, the moment you moved your thumb across the lines that decorated her limb. “I’m happy that you’re both here… that I’m with the two of you,” you mumbled, your voice coming out as a quiet whisper, as you lowered your chin to gaze down at what you were doing.

Your introspective thoughts about Shauna and Jackson weren’t uncommon, and she knew that, considering the fact that you often found yourself daydreaming when it came to her and her son. How you would stare, and stare, and stare, until she’d eventually notice and snap you out of it with a question. Hell, sometimes your mind buzzed so much to the point where you would wake up in the middle of the night and head outside to sit on the porch. And then you would just… think, about her, or Jackson, or about your teammates that also resided in the cabin. And it was all while you listened to the randomly occurring sounds of owls hooting, or birds flapping their wings and rustling the leaves that they hid within.

“You always have a habit of becoming sappy after we put Jackson to bed,” Shauna uttered suddenly, as she glanced down at your fingers, and watched the way they continued to trace over the lines of her palm. “You know that, right?” You simply shrugged your shoulders, feeling the corner of your lip curve up into a soft, innocent smirk that was entirely mindless, and it caused a quiet huff of endearment to slip from the brunette, before she scooted closer to you – her knee pressing against your thigh – and used her free hand to pinch your chin with her index and thumb, as she slowly tugged your focus up to meet her own once again.

“I can’t help it,” you replied softly, the moment you met her gaze, smiling a little brighter. The brunette flickered her brown eyes between your own, clearly stuck in a bout of admiration towards the way the color of your irises fit the different contours and features of your face perfectly, and your only form of defense consisted of you shrugging – again – as you pressed your lips together tightly. “It’s not my fault you’re you and he’s him.” It was clear she didn’t know what you meant by those words, with the way her brow faintly creased in reaction to your statement, but she couldn’t bring herself to question you.

She found your form of affection too endearing to try and deconstruct it.

With Shauna still pinching the bottom of your chin, you remained frozen in your spot, staring at her intently and with a certain glint of softness shining in your eyes. “You’re a dork,” she found herself pointing out, and you immediately brightened in reply, when she let out a loving chuckle and tugged you forward slightly, just so she could press her mouth to your own. Her sound of amusement died down the moment the tip of your nose brushed against her own, and when she tipped her head up slightly to graze her lips over your own, her eyelids fluttering, that was when you pushed in and kissed her, making the connection.

There wasn’t a feeling of anxiety or nervousness that filled your chest, as your hand slowly came up to cradle the side of her neck. It wasn’t like the first time you kissed her. Wasn’t a moment full of uncertain movement and uncoordinated positions that left the two of you huffing out embarrassed laughs and flushing with heat. There was intent and fluidity that went into it now, but even if you and her still acted like you had never shared a peck before, you still would have enjoyed the moment either way. But maybe you were also appreciative of the fact that you didn’t feel like you were going to explode anymore, just from feeling her against you.

With the way you were positioned on the bed, it wasn’t difficult for Shauna to shift onto her knees and use one of her hands to press it against your hip bone. Her other limb cradled your face tenderly, her touch possessive but equally gentle, and the moment your back fell against the mattress, and your head was suddenly cradled by the pillow, that was when her lips fell away from you. With a panting breath, your eyes fluttered open and stared up at her to see her own brown irises gazing down at you already, but before you could say anything to her, she was already leaning down – disappearing from your line of vision – to peck the side of your neck.

There was intention in the action, and it made you flush with heat, as she nestled herself between your legs and pressed her palms against your hips to keep herself from falling on top of you. Your eyelids fluttered when you felt the heat of her breath against the skin of your jaw, and as she kissed the line of it, just underneath your ear, your voice broke through the silence, as your head lulled to the side to stare towards the door of the room, which was already closed and providing the two of you with privacy. “What if someone comes in?” you questioned weakly, your voice lacking its usual confidence, as Shauna moved her hand down slightly and slipped her fingers underneath your shirt.

“Everyone’s outside enjoying the sun,” she mumbled against your flesh, while you tensed up and let out a shaky breath as she smoothed her fingers up your stomach. You ultimately moved past the possibility of anyone barging into the room, even if her words didn’t fully convince you, but when her nails lightly tickled your skin, you couldn’t stop the quiet giggle that slipped from your lips, as your hand shot down to grab her forearm.

Shauna let out a huff at your action, and you weren’t sure if it was out of annoyance or amusement. But when she nipped at your earlobe with her teeth and curled her fingers to continue lightly grazing her nails over the skin of your belly, you could tell she was simply trying to spur you on in the way you originally reacted. And it seemed to work in her favor, when you tightened your grip on her forearm and let out a quiet grunt that did nothing but convey your displeasure and sensitivity towards her teasing.

“Shauna,” you groaned quietly, pushing at her limb.

But she didn’t budge, and she only moved her hand to hold your side instead, as she leaned back slightly to gaze down at you, her dilated pupils locking with yours. “What?” she asked, though you knew the question was entirely rhetorical, when you noticed the ghost of a smirk form on her lips, “I’m not doing anything.” Her faux innocence made you roll your eyes, and she chuckled in turn, finding your attitude comical to her, before she hunkered down to kiss the bone of your cheek, as her hand that lingered on your waist suddenly smoothed lower to tease at the waistband of your shorts.

Her movements still managed to make you squirm, the action ticklish to you, though you also couldn’t deny the way it made your heart speed up, while she watched your expression intently. She searched for any sort of visible response from you, as she hooked her fingers over the elastic, and with the way your eyes flitted to meet her brown ones, it was easy to see the way your features shifted into a look of subtle surprise, the moment you felt the featherlight touch of her fingers graze over the band of your underwear.

“I’ll go slow–”

“Guys! Guys!”

At the sudden voice, which erupted throughout the cabin like an annoying alarm, Shauna’s hand jolted out of your pants as though she had been burned with fire, while you sucked in a sharp breath and snapped your focus towards the door. It opened just as your girlfriend leaned back on her heels with an almost frustrated huff slipping from her lips, and while you propped yourself up onto your elbows, you saw the figure of Van peek through the gap they had created.

Their eyes were as wide as saucers, and their expression was the brightest you had ever seen since you all became trapped in the wilderness. It made your brow furrow in turn, while the brunette stared at them with an unimpressed expression on her features, clearly unhappy towards the fact that the moment had been ruined between you and her. “What, Van?”

You snorted quietly at Shauna’s perturbed response, and Van completely ignored it, when they grinned widely and frantically glanced between the two of you with a glint of excitement in their blue eyes. “Nat waved down a fucking helicopter.” Their words were enough to make your face scrunch up in confusion, almost not believing them, and when you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and narrowed your eyes at the goalkeeper, they didn’t even give you the chance to ask what they meant, when they answered the question for you.

“They found us, guys,” Van stated, clarifying themself, “we can finally get out of here.”

This took me way too long to finish.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #shauna shipman x reader

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hells-wasabii · 10 months ago

Note

Haii can i get general fluff of Valentino being soft with his wife s/o.

A/N: absolutely! i'm a sucker for domestic stuff! I kinda defaulted to a headcanon format, but i think you'll still enjoy it anon! if you'd like a drabble tho, don't hesitate to ask!

Part 1 | Part 2

Character: Valentino

Type: Headcanons (Val x wife! s/o, Fluff)

Valentino is a demon who's in tune with his emotions, too much so depending on who you ask. This of course translates into his marriage with you. He's definitely not afraid to let you know how deeply his affection for you runs.

You'd best believe this man has nicknames for you: some in English, some in Spanish, all with love. I can also guarantee you he's called you wifey, too. He most definitely considers himself to be the king of the porn industry, which makes you his queen. And you'd best believe he lets you know it too.

Being in a position of power like his, it requires him to be hardened with all those he associates with, employees and fellow overlords alike. So many souls looking to take advantage of any sign of weakness. The fact that he can go home to you and the afterlife that you've built together, to be able to just decompress and be soft with you means more to him than he'll likely admit. This in turn means that he'll also be pouty and put on a woe-is-me act, especially if you're busy when he gets home.

On especially bad days when he's on a rampage/tirade after letting his emotions get the better of him, don't be surprised to get a call from Vox or Velvette, or both. It's quite amazing how easily you're able to calm him down, so much so that I'd dare to say it actually frightens the other Vee's to a degree.

When it comes to cuddling he prefers to be big spoon, mostly due to his wings. You even touching his wings is something that would take years to build up to. Moths can't have their wings tampered with otherwise they might not be able to use them anymore. This takes a LOT of trust from Val. On extra special occasions when you cuddle he loves to wrap his arms around you and just hold you close, cocooning the both of you in his wings.

On the topic of physical affection, when he's with you there's a solid 83% chance that he's touching you in some form or fashion. A hand grazing you as he reaches past you, honestly even just hovering. He's very touchy-feely. It only got worse after you two tied the knot.

He also flaunts the fact that you're married. Not a whole lot of Sinner Demons can say that, can they? He doesn't think so at least, but then again he doesn't really care enough to check. He's so proud to have you and why wouldn't he be? He'll go out of his way to introduce you/talk about you to others. "Oh, by the way. have you met my WIFE? Fabulous, isn't she?" Vox and Velvette who take the brunt of the flauntings are just looking at him like: yes Val, this is the second time we've gone through this today.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino #request

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awkness · 4 months ago

Text

Serial killer! Platonic! Yandere Older Brother & Genderneutral Teenage Reader (Part 2)

(Part 1) (Part 3)

As reader tries to adjust to their new life without their father, a number of concerning incidents occur, including off-putting behavior from your brother, prevents that from happening. But despite everything, you make a new friend. Surely, this can only mean good things for you, right? Things must be looking up!

Content warnings: implied murder, manipulation, domestic abuse, briefly mentioned alcoholism and child abuse, and general yandere shenanigans. If I missed anything here, please let me know :3

Authors note: lmao I have no excuse for being this late I'm just slow. This was originally supposed to be the last chapter but it got too long so I had to split it up. It feels like a bit of filler but I promise we'll get to the good stuff soon it just needs some set up. Part 3 should be the last part so I'll try not to be too slow uploading (<- lying)

There were very few things about your father you liked, but his house was one of them. It was something he had inherited from his father, who Ben would inherit as soon your father could be pronounced legally dead. It came with a master bedroom, two normal bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchen, the basement, and an attic.

The attic was something you had always been fascinated with as a child. It was spacious, fully insulated and even had an openable window. It could have been a bedroom all on its own. As a child, you had often daydreamed of moving your stuff up there, utilizing the bigger space for blanket forts and storing all the toys your little heart could desire. In reality, it was used in the same way the basement was, except it stored much more valuable items. Holiday decorations, clothes, old valuables that had no room to be displayed, and whatever family heirlooms your late father kept were shoved up above your head, taking space that could have been used for you. You had thought you had grown out of this fantasy, content with the room you had, but with your father gone and your brother running the house, the childhood dream had crept its way back into the front of your mind, tempting you with visions of a bigger, cooler room.

So, after working up the courage, you finally asked Ben if you could move up there. It surprised you just how easily he said yes.

And now you're here, Ben helping you sort through trash and treasure alike as you both clear out the room.

You pulled an unlabeled box from the seemingly endless pile, the top covered in dust and cobwebs. You try not to think about how many spiders are in the room with you now. Cleaning them out will be a trouble for another day.

The box opens easily, cardboard weak from age, a musty smell emanating from within. You look inside, only to be left dumbfounded. Why were there women's clothes in here?

"Hey, Ben, do you know whose clothes these are?"

Ben looks up from his own box, a vaguely confused look on his face. As he makes his way towards your box, you watch it drop into a frown.

"Those are moms."

"Oh." Is all you can say.

An awkward moment passes between you two as Ben stares into the box, face strange as he becomes lost in thought. You decide to break the tension.

"Why do you think he kept them?"

He looks away from the box and towards you, his body slowly beginning to relax.

"He was always a sentimental man, I guess that's reason enough for him."

You let out a snort. "What's there to be sentimental over? She cheated on him, divorced him, and then dumped us on him. She's not exactly a woman worth pining over."

"I'm not arguing with you, but you remember how he was. Couldn't ever let anything go."

He began rummaging through it, quickly getting to the bottom before closing it back up.

"Nothing but clothes. We should probably donate this."

You give a nod as you watch him put it in the growing donation pile. That was going to be such a pain to bring down to the car.

Instead of thinking about that, though, you turn your head to the box that Ben was searching through before you called him over.

"Is this one mom's too?"

Before you get an answer, you take a peek inside, only to once again be at a loss for how something like this could be in your home.

Inside was an assortment of strange objects. A broken polaroid camera, a stained photo album, and an array of metal objects like locks, deadbolts, and... were those shackles?

Before you could make out any more objects, Ben had made his way to you and reached over to close the flaps of the box.

"I doubt it, probably just more junk he couldn't throw away."

He turned around to you and smiled, hands holding the flaps shut.

"Want to do me a favor and go start bringing the donation boxes to the car?"

"Ugh, why do I have to bring them down?"

"Because you're the one who wanted to move up here."

You glared at him as his smile turned into an amused smirk, before you finally gave a huff and picked up a box from the pile.

"Jerk."

"Brat." The smile never left his face.

With only moderate trouble, you navigated your way down the stairs and out the door, making your way to the car. Unfortunately, you had only realized you forgot the keys when you tried to open the door to pop the trunk open.

You quietly mumble curses under your breath as you set the box next to the car, ready to make the trip back inside. Instead, you go completely still as you catch a look at the people across the street.

It was a small group of high schoolers your age, maybe older, who go to your school. They were standing the the yard across the street, a few houses down, talking together to throwing glances in your direction. Your ears strain as they try to make out their incoherent babble. They couldn't have known about your situation, could they? Or at least, what the official story was. It had been over a month since that happened, it doesn't make sense that they would be talking about it now. But you were just moving boxes out of the house such a short time after it happened. That looks suspicious, doesn't it? Of course it does. Why did you have to ask to move into the attic now?

You had been standing like a deer in headlights, openly staring for what felt like minutes before one of them seemingly made eye contact with you. You avert your gaze down as you feel your cheeks grow hot and your hands grow sweaty. A chorus of laughter erupts from the group.

Without thinking, you rush up to the door, fling it open, and slam directly into Ben as he was carrying. You hear it hit the floor as you speed walk past him.

"Wha- Hey! (Y/N)! What happened?"

You didn't reply. You barely even heard his words. Panic had fully taken over and kept you moving away from Ben, away from the door, away from the outside world, and all the judgemental people it contained.

You finally make it to your room, shutting the door behind you, and seating yourself on your bed, trying to get your bearings.

Tears begin stinging your eyes as your shaky hands try and wipe them away. You wonder if they were still laughing at you.

A soft knock comes from your door, and your body shrinks inward, unprepared for the upcoming talk.

"Kid? Can I come in?"

You don't reply. You know Ben is going to come in anyway.

He waits a beat before opening the door, his face the picture of concern. His footsteps are quiet, and his movements gentle as he sits next to you. You find your body leaning away from him.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

You shrug, turning your head away from him. Even if you did want to talk, you couldn't trust your voice right now.

"Alright, that's fine, we can figure it out together. Was it something to do with mom's clothes?"

You don't move. Maybe if you don't answer, he'll leave and let you deal with your embarrassment in peace.

"The attic?"

A pause.

"Something in the box you were carrying...? Or maybe something outside?"

You stiffen, and immediately try to make yourself relax. Maybe he didn't notice?

"Does this have something to do with the neighbors?"

Oh. Nevermind.

Despite your best efforts, your body language must have given you away again. You hear the bed creak as he gets up, the blinds rustling a moment later as he gives a huff.

"It's those kids across the street, isn't it?" His voice takes on an edge of irritation, and you feel yourself curl inwards again.

The bed shifts as he takes his seat next to you again, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. His voice takes on the softer quality it had before.

"I can't help you if you don't help me, kid. Did they talk to you?"

You shake your head, trying to talk, but finding the words stuck in your throat.

"They-" Your voice falters and you clear your throat, barely able to speak above a whisper.

"They didn't have to. I could see them looking at me and laughing, I knew they were talking about me, just like all the neighbors do whenever they see us. It's like they know. And these-"

You sniff, snot beginning to run and throat burning as you talk. Ben squeezes your shoulder, and you continue.

"These people go to my school, Ben. They know me. When I have to go back, they'll talk and tell everyone and the whole school will know what happened. They'll treat me different, they'll ask questions, and I won't know what to tell them-"

Your quivering voice finally gives out, and you cover your face. Ragged, irregular breaths come out as you try to force back the wave of emotions you've just unleashed. Gently, Ben pulls you to his chest as he rubs your back, murmuring gentle reassurances you couldn't quite hear.

Moments pass until your breathing finally evens out, eyes dry but still red and puffy. You slowly pull back and he lets you, his face full of worry. His hand still remains on your shoulder, an ever-present weight.

"You've had this on your mind for a long time, haven't you?"

You give a feeble nod. The thought of having to return to school had been weighing on you, but you hadn't realized how bad it had been until now. The thought is almost enough to send you spiraling again.

"I don't want to go back."

Ben gives you a smile. "You don't have to."

Your mind freezes for an instant, any and all thought muddled into incohereency.

"What?"

"Why don't I sign you up for online school this year? I remember you talking about wanting to do it a couple of months back, so why not now?"

"I..."

Your brows furrow. You did tell Ben that you wanted to do online school a couple of months ago before summer started. But this wasn't a new wish. You had been dreaming of being homeschooled since you had dreamed of living in the attic. Troubles in finding friends and fitting in had always followed you throughout the years until you realized the futility of it all, and only dreamt of a home where you didn't have to leave, and Ben and you could spend your days in peace. But the reality of your father's abuse had made school a begrudgingly safe haven of yours and you had slowly given up on that dream, too. But now that it was fully within your hands, you found yourself hesitating. Why? There was no monster in your home anymore, you were safe, and there's no reason to say no.

"I don't know."

He smiled.

"It wouldn't have to be permanent, just for this year. And if you don't like it, I can reenroll you back into your old school, so your options are always open. Plus, you're right, (Y/N). I know how cruel kids can be, especially when they're confronted with situations and people they don't understand. I don't want you to face that if you don't have to."

You gnaw on your lip, unsure of what to say. Ben was right on all accounts, the things he was saying made sense, and yet you couldn't find yourself saying yes. Why couldn't you let yourself have this?

"Can I think on it?"

Ironically, it came out of your mouth before you could think at all.

He nodded, his good-humored smile still on his face. You let out a small breath, so glad to still see it there.

"Of course, kid, it's a big decision. Take your time."

He gave your shoulder one last pat before getting up.

"I'm going to move the rest of the boxes in the car and go drop them off. You want me to pick up dinner on the way back?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with whatever."

"Alright. Rest up, I'll be back soon."

Unable to say much else, you nod as he gives you one last smile before he heads out the door, closing it behind him.

You rub your eyes, your body slowly unwinding from the tension just moments prior, until it gives in and you lay down on your bed.

With nothing else left to do, you crawl under your covers, the familiar comfort of the soft and worn fabric soothing your nerves. Distantly, you hear the sound of Ben's footsteps as he makes his way back and forth from the attic, the familiar and comforting sound lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was pretty uneventful. Ben was off at work while you continued clearing the attic, sorting out the junk and keepsakes, only occasionally getting scared by the stray spiders that had made their home in the crevices between the boxes.

By noon, everything was sorted, with the only thing left being to take the boxes to be donated or tossed in the trash. But you needed Ben to help you with that, so you found yourself heading down to the kitchen, heating instant noodles in the microbe, wondering what you were going to do until he got home.

Around this time is when you usually went to go check the mail, but since yesterday, the thought of having to leave the house left you with an uneasy feeling, tension building in your spine and shoulders the longer you thought of it. A part of you was ashamed that you couldn't even walk out to the mailbox without it being a big deal, and another, much larger part, found immense relief in the thought of abandoning the task altogether, and not having any more chance encounters like yesterday. The more you considered it, the more you found your body sagging in relief. Yeah, Ben can grab it when he gets home, you're sure he wouldn't mind. It's no big deal.

The microwave beeps and you grab the noodles, all thought of the outside quickly leaving your head.

You had just dumped the flavor packet in when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart, ashamed you were to admit, skipped a beat, and you froze mid-action, breath catching roughly in your throat. Who could that be? Maybe that was Ben, and he had just forgot his keys? No, that's stupid, he wouldn't be home this early, and he never forgets his keys. With no other answers coming to mind, you quietly set the packet down and got up to the door to peek through the peephole.

On the other side of the door stood one of your neighbors, a kid your age. You see him the most often out of all of your neighbors, often doing yard work and tending to the flowers in his front yard. He was also the guy you caught staring at you the most. Well, maybe staring wasn't completely accurate, but whenever you looked his way, you two would usually make eye contact before one of you shyly looked away. You didn't know why, and it played havoc on your nerves. He wore a hoodie despite the summer heat and had an envelope in his hand. He looked nervous.

You pull away and bring your hand to undo the locks before stopping.

For one glorious, tempting moment, you picture yourself turning around, going back to your noodles, and taking them upstairs and away from the door to eat in peace until Ben comes home.

Instead, you undo the locks and open the door.

Your neighbor looks slightly taken aback like he didn't expect anyone to answer. You try not to notice.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Oh, uh, hi! I'm Alex, your neighbor. I live right next to you, the house to the right, well- uh, my right, your left. The one with the red car and lawn gnomes out front?"

He gestures sheepishly towards his house, face nearing the complexion of a tomato.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm (Y/N)."

The social protocols of politeness take over, unable to fully pay attention as your mind stalls, still in a state of shock from the anxiety of the situation.

"(Y/N)? That's a nice name." He smiles at you before quickly looking at the ground.

He hands the envelope over to you, speaking as you look over it.

"Uh, I just wanted to drop this off. I think our mail got mixed up."

Sure enough, the envelope had your brother's name and address on it.

"Oh, thank you." You say lamely.

For a beat, you wonder if you should say something more. It felt wrong to just leave the conversation as it was and close the door, but what else were you supposed to say? Before you can think about it, he speaks again.

"I, uh, wanted to say that I heard about what happened to your dad, and I'm sorry."

Again, your heartbeat skips, and you stiffen, body alert, eyes wide. You probably look like a deer caught in headlights in front of him if he wasn't still looking at the ground. The thought would embarrass you if it weren't for the sharp spike of adrenaline hitting your veins.

"I... I had a dad like him too."

And just like that, your body pauses its panic response, and you find yourself fully focused on him as he continues.

"I thought it would be easier after me and my mom moved away, and it has been, but those kinds of experiences don't just go away, and I wanted to say that you aren't alone."

You still felt a little wired from the previous scares, you you felt a strange sense of ease slowly pass through you at his words.

You stare at him, as he stares down, no words passing between you two before you finally speak.

"Thank you."

You only hesitate for a moment before continuing.

"It has been rough, but it's been more of a relief than anything. It's nice not having to hide away in my room until he leaves."

He looks up, a small smile gracing his face as he finally relaxes.

"Yeah, it's nice not having to check to see if he passed out in the house again."

You find your lips quirking up. "Or having to check his pulse when he is passed out."

"Not having to worry about him throwing a fit whenever he runs out of beer despite him being the one who drank it all."

"Not having to constantly hide food in your room so you have a supply when he does throw his tantrums"

Alex gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Yours let you get food out of the kitchen? There was a lock on the fridge and pantry when I lived with mine."

Your smile widened into one of disbelief, amusement, and shock. "What the hell? Why?"

"Kept getting upset that the food would go missing. Worst part is, every time he got blackout drunk, he'd binge eat, pass out and get mad at us for eating all the food."

You couldn't help it. You started giggling, and he started giggling, unable to react in any other way to the absurdity of it all.

"Sorry! I really shouldn't laugh-" You began, failing to stifle the laughter.

"Don't be!" He said. "He's a stupid guy, you should laugh at him."

You both share the moment, the laughter slowly dying down as you both take your first good look at each other. In this moment, you see something you can't help but talk about.

"Is that a minecraft necklace?"

He looks surprised, but pleasantly so. He glances down before holding it up with a grin. The pendant was the shape of a creeper head.

"Yeah, I'm a big fan!"

He puts it back down and his demeanor changes back to being sheepish, but not painfully so like he was before.

"I have minecraft for Xbox and a spare controller at my house. If you want, you can come over and play?"

It was your turn to be nervous again.

On one hand, you wanted to say 'absolutely'. You couldn't remember the last time you got invited to hang out, and the thought of something as normal as playing a video game with a friend was something you needed. Well, maybe you couldn't call him a friend yet, but you feel like you could, given enough time. Plus, after being so afraid of your neighbors and leaving your house, having someone come up to you and act so warm and friendly made you feel soft. It was hard to say no to that.

On the other hand, you had the nagging, unnameable feeling that Ben would be, upset, but you couldn't think up any concrete reason as to why. In fact, if you focused on that feeling too long, your mind went blank.

Sure, you were going about out of the house without him knowing, but Ben has always been supportive of you. Sure, he's never really discussed rules about going over to a friend's house because the situations never come up, but he's fairly easygoing. You were sure that if you explained why you went, he would be understanding. Happy, even.

Plus, you were only going next door, you had your phone on you, and you would be back before Ben came home, so it's not like he had to even know what happened. Not that you wanted to lie to him, but something about that option comforted you more than any of the other things you listed.

Discomfort pushed aside, you gave a smile back to Alex.

"Sure thing, let me grab my phone."

It could have been the perfect hangout. Alex's mom was nice, bringing you two snacks and telling stories from Alex's childhood despite his embarrassment, as you two hung out in the living room while he helped you figure out the controls. Soon enough, you two were building a base together, laughing at each other as a creeper or sneaky skeleton would get kills on you both.

You were halfway through making the third story of the base when your phone started ringing. You felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw Ben's picture on the screen.

"Shit."

You immediately pocketed in and got up.

"What's wrong?" He paused the game and looked up.

"I wasn't supposed to stay so late, my brother's probably home by now."

You went over to the window and peeked through the blinds, and as fate would have it, you saw his car in the driveway.

You hear Alex speak from the couch, voice slightly concerned.

"You're not going to get in trouble, are you?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

"I... don't think so. Maybe? I've never been out late before."

"If you want, I can come with you and explain what happened. I'll take the blame."

Despite your growing worry, you felt a pang of gratitude come through. You gave a small smile.

"That's okay, he'll probably be a little mad, but I don't think it's that serious."

You headed to the door, Alex following behind.

"Hey, on the chance you don't get grounded or whatever, here's my phone number."

You look back and see him scribbling on a piece of paper before he hands it over to you. You take it and look at sloppy, but thankfully still legible writing, and give a bigger, more genuine smile.

"I'll text you later. If I still have my phone, that is." You joke, or at least try to.

He gives a smile and a wave as you turn back and exit the front door.

As it closes behind you, the warmth of the interaction slowly leaches from you and leaves you feeling cold and rattled.

You didn't fully believe the things you said to Alex. You had no real idea what Ben would like because you had never gone against what he said before. The thought alone turned your stomach into knots. It was simply how you two functioned, Ben was the one in charge and made the big decisions, and you listened. Sure, he never had any explicit rules about this, but that didn't mean anything.

As you made the short walk to your home, you began strategizing.

You should do damage control right away, start apologizing straight away, and let him know where you were and what you were doing. Wait, should you mention Alex? At that thought, you shoved the paper with his number deep in your pocket. You didn't want Ben to see it.

Before you could think about it anymore, you were at your front door. Your back tensed, and you hesitated only a moment before opening the door. Waiting would only make it worse.

Before you can fully step in, you see Ben pacing the kitchen, brows furrowed, face strained. As soon as he heard you, his head whipped up, and you felt yourself freeze like a rabbit spotted by a wolf. Frozen, unable to do anything else than stare.

"(Y/N)?"

Just like that, you were broken out of your trance, finally allowed to move again.

You step in all the way and close the door behind you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think I'd be out that long, I wasn't keeping track of time, I-"

Your voice died the moment you looked back to Ben's face, his features looked so... angry. You've never seen him look at you like that before, never seen him look like that at all. It set off a loud, blaring warning in your brain that something was wrong, and that you needed to leave. But that was crazy. This is Ben, your brother, you were fine.

You tried to start again.

"I was..."

It tapered off as you saw him move towards you, movement swift and robotic as he kept his attention on you. Without thinking, you shrunk back.

"Ben-"

Before you could finish he's in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly it's borderline painful. You grip his arms, weakly trying to push away, knowing better than to seriously try.

"Where were you?"

There was such a dangerous edge to his voice that you couldn't think, couldn't look away. Your breaths came out shallow and your voice so tiny you could barely hear it.

"With the neighbors."

That only made him angrier.

"What neighbors? We don't talk to the neighbors here."

Oh, you were shaking now.

"With- with the neighbors right next to us, the Rogers. I was hanging out with Alex-"

"Who the Hell is Alex?"

His grip got tighter as he shook you, and you could feel the bruises forming. You started pushing at him again, but your arms trembled so badly you might as well not have tried.

"B-Ben, it hurts."

Your voice was so thick with emotion that it was hardly coherent, but Ben understood.

His face blanked for a moment, body shocked to stillness as you continued to try and leave. Then, without warning, he let you go, turned his back and walked a few paces away from you, pinching his nose as he let out a sharp breath.

You listen to him as he takes deep breaths while you rub your sore arms, snot beginning to run as your eyes turn wet. As you step away, you feel your back pressed against the door, and you have the fleeting idea to open it and run away. You realize what you're thinking, and the idea terrifies you so deeply you stay rooted to the spot.

Finally, Ben turns back, face still hardened but not as severely as before.

"Who's Alex?"

You sniff. You really didn't want to do this anymore.

"He's the neighbor's kid. Our mail got mixed up and he brought it over to me, and invited me over to hang out."

You probably should have stopped there, but some scared, hurt part of you needed Ben to understand that you didn't mean this, it wasn't your fault. Your voice cracked as you continued.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. It was only supposed for a little bit, I didn't think I would be over for so long, just an hour or two. I- I didn't mean for this to happen, I should- I should of called you."

You stopped, but only because the shaking in your hands had spread to your voice, and you didn't think you could keep going without sounding like a complete mess.

His face didn't soften for a moment, staring blankly as you had gone on. After it ended, he closed his eyes, rubbed his face and gave a sharp sigh.

You couldn't read him when he looked away. Was he calming down? Did that make him more upset? Every second that ticked by frayed your already worn-out nerves. You were only one yell away from bursting into tears.

He looked up again, face the same as it was before.

"Do you know what it's like to come home with the door unlocked and see you missing, with no goddamn clue where you could be? What was I supposed to think? You didn't even pick up your damn phone!"

He stopped, took a breath, and then continued, a dangerously calm edge to his voice.

"And then you tell me you decided to stay over at a stranger's house without calling me? A person you only met today? They could of been anybody, anything could happened to you. I thought you had better sense than that."

It stung.

"I'm sorry."

It sounded small and pathetic, even to your own ears.

He let out a sigh.

"Go to your room. We'll talk about this more later."

You don't think twice. You rush away on shaky legs to your room and quietly close the door behind you, afraid of doing anything else to set him off. The bed lets out a soft creak as you sit down. You gather your quivering hands in your lap and look down on them, not sure what to do with yourself.

Before you can think about it any further, you hear the front door open and slam shut, then the car turning on and driving away.

As it quiets down, you can't help it. Stifled sobs climb their way out of your chest, feeling like they're choking you until you can't resist anymore. You collapse on your bed, openly crying until you exhaust yourself to sleep.

The next morning felt almost surreal. You woke up to hearing Ben walking about the house as he did his morning routine. Usually, you would be out of the room right now doing the same, with you both then sitting down to eat breakfast together until it was time for him to leave. This time, you stayed in bed the entire time, idly scrolling your phone as you listened to his footsteps.

A part of you expected him to knock at your door, and ask you why you weren't out yet. Instead, you heard the sizzle of eggs hitting a hot pan as they cooked, and after a short few moments, the front door opening, closing, and locking behind him. The familiar sounds of the car's engine slowly faded away, and you finally got out of your bed, ready to start your day.

You decided to text Alex. You were hesitant to give the details of what happened, simply saying that Ben was upset and things were tense, and thankfully, Alex never pushed it. Instead, he started sending you memes and talking about his ideas for the minecraft world you both started. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him, the conversation going for hours before he had to leave to help with dinner.

When it was time for Ben to come home, you scurried back to your room, feeling relieved but guilty when you closed the door. On one hand, you could still feel the fear you had last night, and you had no idea what to do with it. It was perplexing and off-putting, and thinking too hard on it made you feel like your brain was turning to static, so you opted to not think about it at all, which meant avoiding your brother as well.

But the guilt wouldn't let you be. It turned what should have been the comfort of your room into a place of wrongness, that you were doing something awful by keeping yourself here and not going down to see him like you usually did. Your lip began to bleed, and only then you realized you had been chewing on it since you heard Ben's car pull in.

You contemplated texting Alex for a distraction as you heard him make his way into the house. And then, step by step, make his way way to the hallway, and then to your door.

And then, the knock.

"Can I come in?"

You don't know if you want to answer, so you don't.

"I know you're awake, kid. Your lights on."

Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what to do. For a moment, your mind latched onto the idea that you could pretend to be asleep, but you immediately shrugged it off. This was going to happen anyway, might as well happen now.

"Come in."

The door opens, and you see Ben, completely exhausted, his gaze nervously flitting towards you and the floor as he carried a fast food bag in his hand.

"I brought dinner."

You instinctively perk up at the mention of food, and he takes that as a sign to step closer and sit on the far side of the bed, bag between you two, as he clasped his hands together. His leg starts to quickly bounce before he stops it.

"Figured I'd pick up something on the way home. Didn't feel like cooking.

You nod, even though there's something in you that compels you to do or say more to try and ease his nerves. Even now, after what he did, you hate to see him upset. You try to push the urge to comfort down as you pointedly look away.

Both of you sit in silence while looking anywhere but at each other. In your peripheral, you can see him fidgeting with his hands.

"I know I scared you last night, I just-"

He nervously shifts in his seat. His voice is halting but sincere.

"It worried me, seeing you gone. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). Ever since you were born, I've been there to take care of you. I can't remember a time without you, and I don't want to. You're a part of me, without you, I... I don't even know who I am."

You look over at him and freeze. You're big brother, the man who protected you and cared for you your whole life, is bunched in on himself, face strained and twitching with barely contained emotion as he doggedly stares directly ahead, like looking at you would hurt him. His eyes are red and dark circles frame them. You swallow, years of experience screaming at you to reach over and comfort him, but instead, you sit, never once looking away as he continues talking.

"I shouldn't have done that to you, kid. I should of known better. Should of contained myself. I try so hard for you, but there's times it feels like it isn't enough, and it keeps me up at night."

He sniffs, and your eyes begin to blur.

"I never wanted to be like that in front of you, you didn't deserve to see that. I-"

He wipes his hands over his face, taking a deep breath as he tries to collect himself. After a beat, he uncovers his face and finally looks at you.

"I'm sorry."

It was like a spell had been broken. You found yourself pushing a food to the side and leaning against his shoulder. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, and when you didn't resist, he reached his other arm around you, pulled you into his chest, and began softly rocking you back and forth.

You feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it feels the same as you did as a kid when you would run up to him when something scared you, or when you felt your emotions overwhelm you. He would hold you tight and it felt like you were in the safest place in the world. The relief of that feeling after everything you had been through was like coming home.

Still safely tucked in his arms, you spoke again, voice more quiet and child-like than you meant it to be.

"Promise me you won't do that again."

The mere thought of him acting so uncontrollably and violently towards you was enough to make you nauseous.

He squeezed you tight.

"I promise, kid, never again."

You nodded, unable to reply. The both of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he slowly began letting you go.

After getting fully untangled, you rub your eyes, a feeling of exhaustion settling in as your stomach rumbles.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm Ben."

His reply is so quick, you think it's automatic for him.

You shoot him a glare, but it's undermined by your smile. He returns it with one of his own.

"You wanna go down and eat? I got you a milkshake too, it's down in the kitchen. But might be a bit melted by now."

You spring up, fast food bag in hand as you make your way towards the door.

"Why didn't you say so, let's go!"

You hear him let out a chuckle, and you let out one reflectively, too.

You both share the meal together, talking and laughing late into the evening, until it was finally time to sleep. You drifted off easily into a deep, restful sleep, finally at peace.

#yandere #yandere platonic #platonic yandere #yandere original character #yandere oc #yandere x reader #x reader #gn reader

174 notes · View notes

henrioo · 7 months ago

Note

If requests are still open would you been interested in writing some domestic Mihawk with his husband and their baby? Maybe reader teaches the kid their languages, and Mihawk gets the baby little sword plushies. Idk man but there's no way that man isn't secretly mushy 😭

°•*⁀➷ OUR LITTLE PEACE: MIHAWK

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "All Mihawk ever wanted was a peaceful life in his castle. But a perfect peaceful life is not complete without you, his husband, and now his little baby to fill his days with joy."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : Male! Reader (can be cis or trans), MLM, homo relationship, homo marriage, Spoilers to the two years separation! (Zoro and Perona are in the castle and this is post Marineford), the author doesn't know anything about babies and children, almost nothing of Spanish because I couldn't think of one cute dialogue so sorry, not too many mentions of the reader gender like my others stories but still clear the reader is a men, also no mentions of the birth of the baby, no name or appearance to the baby so you can choose if is biology, adopted, imagine what you want.

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1,8k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Another story! Another male reader! Hehehehe, I skipped one day of posting but here it's the new one, another ask because I'm really trying to finish them to give more attention to another project and maybe write other stories idk. Thanks for the ask, I love writing family stuff hehehhe, this one was not that good because I'm having some struggles with my writing style but I hope everyone likes it! Byee

You yawned as you tested the milk in your hand, warm but not enough to burn your baby's tongue, perfect. Zoro was in a bad mood in the kitchen eating something, he had been beaten by Mihawk in the last training session and you suspected it was because the pirate was always lost in the castle and opening the doors with great force, which made a huge noise and always it made your baby start crying, irritated when awakened from his sleep. Which also made the older man a little irritated that someone was disturbing his son's sleep.

You made a mental note to try talk to your husband, although to be honest you were uncomfortable too. His son was a needy little boy and when he started crying he would stay like that for hours, until his throat got tired and he went back to sleep, so having to deal with it several times because Zoro kept waking him up was really frustrating.

You walked through the hallways, now with furniture all prepared to be baby proof, no furniture with pointy ends, no sliding rugs, doors in front of the stairs and other changes. At first you thought that Mihawk would be uncomfortable with the changes, to his surprise he took responsibility for changing everything without you even talking about it first. He spent weeks moving furniture, buying or making objects to close doors or round edges, he even made himself available to remove carpets and pictures, even going overboard with the protection.

Your husband has always been a very protective person, even before he was your husband or boyfriend. When he was just flirting, or courting, he was always very concerned about your ntegrity. If you were traveling, would he always give you the best accommodations, extreme climates? He has everything prepared, clothes and even medicine for illnesses, that is if he doesn't change the entire route of the trip to prevent inconvenience.

As you progressed in your relationship, the more protective Mihawk became, he would never be possessive or controlling, he was just genuinely concerned about your comfort and safety and felt it was his obligation as a lover to provide you with the best. Of course he respected you, after all you were also a man and a fighter, you were not weak in any way, it was your strength and intelligence that made Mihawk attract and fall in love with you in the first place. But living a life as a "pirate", an ally of the navy or just someone very strong in the grand line meant that your loved ones and even you were at risk of death at all times. He would never want to lose you and that's why he never let his guard down.

It was no different with his son, he wanted to give him a safe and as normal childhood as possible, thus arriving at this extremely careful point. He was already planning his son's diet and he wasn't even eating so many solid things yet...

"Almost there dear, it's papa, mi hijo, papa" You heard through the half-open door, there was an area of the castle that was closed just for the three of you. Even Zoro and Perona knew to stay away from that part, it being your private wing.

There was the bedroom where you two slept, a common room with the fireplace where you two usually stayed, a bathroom, a library next to the balcony and of course, your son's room. It was almost a complete house, except that it was inside a huge castle with many other rooms.

You stopped watching your husband next to your son, Mihawk was now wearing casual clothes although his shirt was more open, contact with the parents' skin was good for babies, he had told you. The baby laughed in his arms, trying to touch the adult's face with his chubby little hands. He wore thicker baby clothes to protect himself from the cold on the island, as your husband insisted that just the fireplace wasn't enough. The outfit was dark red with bat symbols, Perona had given away saying that the cute baby needed to maintain one parent's vampire reputation.

"Baba!" Your son exclaimed excitedly, laughing again, your husband's affectionate look and smile made your heart melt and your stomach feel strange.

For many, Mihawk was a cruel and merciless man, who could effortlessly cut through ships and defeat thousands of swordsmen at the same time without breaking a sweat. For you? Ah... To you, he was a loving man, a man who always brought gifts from every island he visited, who always had fresh flowers to give you, a man who would kill anyone who dared to offend you for being in a relationship with another man. For you, he was your husband.

"I'll only forgive your terrible pronunciation because you're too cute," Your husband said, shaking his son again.

"I think baba suits you a lot" You smiled entering the room, your husband had been trying to teach Spanish to your little baby for some time. Although this turned out to be a much longer task than he imagined.

"Of course I do" He mocked looking at you smiling, it's not like he could contradict you.

"Papa!" Your baby said excitedly and soon his attention was all on you, his little hands stretched out trying to reach you as quickly as possible.

"Why can he get the pronunciation right with you?" Mihawk looked at you confused and envious as he passed the child to you.

"Because he likes to annoy you" You smiled, rubbing your face with the chubby and soft face of your baby who laughed at the contact.

"Well, he got it out of you then..." Mihawk teased as he adjusted the chair so you were comfortable breastfeeding.

"Of course yes" You sat in the chair and then placed your son next to the bottle, he quickly held the bottle as he began to drink the milk. His eyes soon started to get tired and he relaxed against you, after all it was close to time for him to fall asleep.

"I should order a painting of you two like this, it would be the most beautiful work of art I have ever seen..." He sighed looking at the two of you with love, for him it seemed like a dream, so much peace with the people he loved most.

"He wouldn't be able to stay still for that long" You laughed, your baby used to be quite energetic, which had created some good confusion with you guys losing him in the huge castle.

“It would be worth a try” He chuckled and walked closer to you, caressing your cheek and then placing a kiss on your forehead. "I can put him to bed today, you should take a shower and rest."

"You already did this yesterday, I don't get that tired taking care of him, you practically do everything." You sighed, your husband always wanted to take the weight off your shoulders since he used to travel a lot. However, your son really wasn't that big of a job, now with Perona and Zoro here and the instability of the world government, you doubted that Mihawk would travel anytime soon, so your job was even easier since you shared it with your husband.

"Humpf" He huffed, he always sulked when you didn't allow him to take care of everything.

"Let's put him to bed together... Then after that we'll have some time just for the two of us" You suggested smiling, your baby had now let go of the bottle and was yawning, showing that he was ready to end the day.

"You know how to convince me, don't you?" Mihawk smiled, taking the empty bottle as you stood up with your baby.

"Of course, how do you think I got you to marry me?" You played with him. Soon you were running around the baby's room to rock him, your son clung to you yawning and finishing digesting the warm milk you had provided. Luckily he didn't give much work on that part.

When he had calmed down enough to be practically asleep, Mihawk had already prepared the crib, also carrying some stuffed animals and blankets in case you decided to add something else. You walked over with your baby and gently placed him in the crib, then he stretched out completely and then curled up again in a ball, grabbing a sword plush and messing up the blanket there.

"Sword?" You said looking confused at the plushie of a sword, you didn't remember having one of those. You then asked your husband.

You only met a proud, red-faced Mihawk if you had seen your son doing the most graceful thing possible.

"We have to start familiarizing him as soon as possible," he said, smiling to disguise that he had bought the plush hidden from you.

"Oh yeah? Familiarize our baby with his father's swordsmanship legacy?" You said, crossing your arms and smiling at him, you even wanted to pretend to be angry but you couldn't, not with him being so cute like that.

"Of course, he will be a great swordsman in the future" Mihawk said proudly, you raised your eyebrow.

"Of course, then he's going to beat Roronoa and then come kick his own father's ass, it seems like something my son would do" You said proudly leaving the room, knowing that Mihawk would now be thinking about the fact that one day he would fight seriously with his son, knowing he would never be able to hurt his own child.

It didn't take long for Mihawk to come up behind you with a thoughtful face as he too got ready for bed.

"Well... He's still young, we can't say if he'll actually be a swordsman" He said coughing embarrassedly as he sat next to you on the bed.

"Of course, maybe he's something else" You said smiling knowing you had hit the nail on the head. Mihawk would never be able to seriously fight his own son.

"Of course... Another thing" Mihawk said with flushed cheeks, he also knew that you knew. It was shameful for him to know that his husband knew him so well.

"Yeah, another thing where he doesn't have to kick his dad's ass" You laughed giving him a kiss on the cheek, knowing he would sulk at the idea for a while.

“You really like teasing me…” He sighed as the two of you cuddled together on the bed, ready to spend some time together before bed. And well, you couldn't deny it, your biggest fun was seeing the merciless and cruel Dracule Mihawk, the strongest swordsman in the world, reduced to a soft-hearted, caring husband and father who would do anything for his husband and son. Sometimes love also came with provocation.

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lil-binuu · 1 month ago

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If he hits you once

TRIGGER WARNING: manipulation, possessiveness, domestic violence.

I'm a little late to the yandere party (sorry @peppymintdreams i couldn't help it)

This is fiction, not canonically accurate, and not romantic. (I do NOT condone any romanticisation of any kind of abuse.)

If you're underage, be weary as this is quite heavy and not like my usual content.

It is a bit weird to write this stuff, but I wanted to explore the idea of what barista would do in a situation where they realise that their life is not, in fact, a wattpad story and sometimes you can mistake someone who is actually really dangerous and a horrible person, as someone who you love. And while ofc, this is not Elias canonically, i still wanted to write what he could be like as a more realistic person - especially because the abuse from his father would have affected him regardless, whether it turned into his own aggression or not.

830 words

packing your things to move to another safe house has brought up the topic of your freedom.

“Elias-“

“I’m doing this to keep you safe.”

He already knew what you were trying to talk about.

“I- I know, but- I want to have freedom. I need to have freedom.”

“You already do.” He replied, blunt and rude.

“No, I don’t. I can’t speak to my friends, or family, I can't even go outside.”

“You can’t when it’s this dangerous. Do you have any idea how easily you could die if I’m not there to protect you?”

You hesitated. “I-I know, but I-”

“You don’t stand a chance out there, not without me.”

You swallowed. You knew Elias was protecting you in a way you couldn’t yourself, but he didn’t have to say it like that.

Elias stepped towards you, taking your hand. “You know I just want to protect you.”

You nodded, eyes dropping to the floor. “I know.”

“So let’s not fight about this.” He wrapped his arms around you in a hug. “You know I’m right anyway. You’re weak, Y/n. You can’t look after yourself, you need me.”

You frowned. Maybe it was true and you just couldn’t accept it. Elias was there to protect you, why would you try to argue otherwise? He only wants what’s best for you.

Elias pulled back, facing you with his eyebrows raised, expecting.

“I’m sorry.” You answered, fulfilling his request.

But why should you be sorry? It was a legitimate worry, your freedom. Didn’t Elias want you to have freedom too?

“Come on, we need to keep packing.”

Elias turned away from you, back to the bag he was packing full of clothes. You couldn’t allow him to change the subject, not when your freedom was at stake.

“Elias,” you sighed, “I wasn’t done talking-“

“Well I am.” His raised voice thundering over your own.

You don’t think Elias had ever spoken to you like this before. Like he didn’t even care about you.

“You can’t make me live like this!”

“I can and I will.” His words cut into you like a knife. This was a side of Elias you had never seen.

He had never spoken to you like this before. He had never argued with you, never disregarded your feelings, but all of a sudden your concerns were dismissed. Your voice was dismissed.

You could only stand there and stare at him.

“It doesn’t have to be like-“

“Are you trying to get yourself killed? Elias shouted, shutting you down completely.

“You seriously think you would still be alive if it weren’t for me?”

Your frustration got the better of you.

“I don’t need you to protect me!” You yelled.

A hand came down quickly onto your face.

You froze.

The side of your face almost numb from the impact. You could hardly register what just happened.

You slowly looked back to Elias, swallowing as tears began to flood your eyes.

His chest rising and falling quickly, you could see how angry he was. But did he just hit you?

After protecting you for so long, promising to keep you safe, you never thought Elias would be the one to hurt you.

Maybe you shouldn’t have protested against him so much. You didn’t need to anger him, if only you just listened to what he said without complaining.

But his anger was now imprinted on your skin.

Elias took a step towards you, reaching out his arm. Instantly you brought up your hands in front of your face.

“Baby, why’d you flinch?”

You looked at him through the barrier of your arms, bringing your defence down as you realised he hadn’t hit you a second time.

“I- I..” You choked on your excuse, tears rolling down your face.

“Baby?” He exclaimed, his bittersweet concern almost mocking.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?”

You blinked up at him, confused and scared.

He wouldn’t hurt you? He wouldn’t? But your face was red and stinging.

“B-but.. You..” Your hand raised to the side of your face, gently touching the injury.

“Ah, but I didn’t mean to. I just got so angry, babe. You know I can’t help it.”

“W- what?” you whispered, searching his eyes.��

He leaned down to your face.

“Don’t argue with me and you won’t get hurt.”

You finally realised what you had gotten yourself into. Elias wasn’t some protector, no, he was just another man who made empty promises to keep you around. His words were just lies, sweet lips and a sweet voice in the hopes that you would believe his sweet facade.

Now you just felt stupid. Why on earth would you think that putting your heart and soul into someone like him would work out? It doesn’t matter how much you like him, under all the leather and chains, he’s just another man with issues.

And you knew you needed to leave. There was nothing else for you to do.

Silently, you continued to pack. But you weren’t going to a safe house or staying with Elias any longer. You were getting out.

yualll this is kinda shit but whatev

Remember; If they hit you once, they'll hit you again.

And to all of my beautiful people out there, if someone treats you badly in any way it's never ever because of you and you are not alone. Call me up i'll beat their ass. Stay safe <3

#zsakuva #sakuverse #zsakuva elias #elias x reader #zsakuvafandom #writing #fanfic #elias zsakuva #yandere #yandere elias #trigger warnings

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licensed2faint · 16 days ago

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I said like forever ago that I would make tier list for dragon types, and I've finally gone and done it. Big thanks to @veterantrainerray for suggesting I do this like a month ago.

These lists are directed at newbie trainers, specifically younger trainers. If you're thirty-two and have a twenty acre property and all the time in the world to read up on the care and training of a Salamence, go for it. I'm not your dad.

I've ONLY added Pokemon I have personally trained, so I can try to explain each list. I made two lists, one for captive-bred 'mon and one for wild-caught. Captive-bred pokemon tend to be hardier and less temperamental, so the list is a bit different. ALSO, while I used the final forms, this list is assuming you got them in their first form. I do not recommend trying to train a fully-grown wild Salamence. For any reason. That's a catch-and-release beastie.

honourable mention: Gyarados. Not a dragon-type, but temperamental as one. My recommendation is that this is a very strong guy who (probably) loves you very much for taking care of him when he was weak, and also he hates everyone else. Train him to wait for your command, and also socialize him while he's still a Magikarp to avoid the 'us vs. them' mindset as much as you can.

~~~

First up, the 'domestic-bred dragon list!'

Explanation:

Acceptable Starter: Swablu and Dratini are not very aggressive pokemon, and domestic-bred ones are usually much hardier than their wild counterparts. Dratini are a little more intelligent, and thus easier to train, but a domestic Swablu is pretty intelligent itself. Neither of them evolves into a pokemon known for aggression, so I think overall they're pretty well-suited travelling companions.

Fine with experience: Horsea is Horsea. You know him, you love him. Domestic ones, are, again, hardier than than their wild counterparts.. Honestly, the reason I have them here rather than 'acceptable starter' is because of Seadra. All the good breeding in the world can't guarantee a calm Seadra. You have to make sure your Horsea is well-trained BEFORE it evolves. But if it is? Your Kingdra is gonna be a breeze. Way more chill than Seadra, if not a bit snooty.

Druddigon get a bad rap, which is unfortunate. I love them. Might be my favourite dragon type. Domestic breeds are hard to come by, since they're not very popular, but the ones I've met are wonderful. They enjoy sunbathing a lot. The reason I put them here is actually because they tend to be stubborn. And while it takes a lot (compared to other dragon types, NOT most pokemon) to get them irritated, they CAN AND WILL use their strength to solve a problem. So the difficulty lies in getting them motivated enough to train them well. But if you're just looking for a guy who sits out in your yard sunbathing and looking scary, maybe give a breeder a call...? (you should still train them not to attack without a command, though!)

Flygon is actually usually really sweet-tempered. The reason he's so low is actually because of Trapinch and Vibrava! Trapinch, even domestically bred ones, are not all that intelligent, and thus hard to train for people who don't know what they're doing. The digging instinct can be very, very difficult to train out. They're hard-wired for it, it's how they survive in the wild! Vibrava are much more intelligent, but when they first evolve, there WILL be accidents with the wings. They're still figuring things out. Give 'em time, teach them to only do that stuff outdoors, etc etc. But if you can get through that, Flygon are wonderful companions! Every now and again in Hoenn you'd find a family with a pet Flygon instead of the typical Skitty or Poochyena. Love em.

Might need outside help: Domestic Gibble tend to be much less wantonly destructive than wild-caught, since having that bred out of them was a big goal of the original breeding programs in the first place. That said, instinct is instinct. If you aren't giving them their proper exercise every day and making sure to train them, they are going to wreak havoc. You need to be paying attention to it at all times. They're also pretty curious lil' guys! This means they will see something neat, like a fire hydrant, go 'hey, what's that?' and then answer that question by destroying it. They tend to get labeled 'aggressive' which is. Well it's not really true, but the difference between 'playtime' and 'this little guy hates you' doesn't matter so much when you're human and a Gibble is chasing you, open-mouthed. Domestic Gabite are much more calm on that front, and fully-trained, domestic Garchomp tend to be remarkable bastions of self-control. Again, it's all about surviving and training that first stage.

Pros Only: Both of these guys are here for similar reasons: Their instinct in their final evolutions has a tendency to override their training, so you're gonna have to not only have a firmer hand then a lot of trainers are comfortable with, but train them pretty continuously throughout their lives. They're fiercely independent, so forming a bond based on respect very early on in their lives is direly important. Otherwise you ain't getting them to do anything for you. Thankfully, at the very least the domestic breeds tend to not be too violent/destructive.

Salamence has an added difficulty: most people don't train their Bagon or Shelgon correctly. Bagon is one of the most easygoing dragon types out there, and Shelgon have a tendency to be pretty placid. This leads to trainers not taking their training too seriously early on, which leads to disastrous consequences once they're fully evolved. Just because your Bagon listens to you doesn't mean your Salamence will. Practice your recall training. Or Else.

You put that thing back where it came from or so help me: Hydregion is smarter than you. You may be able to train a Deino. I don't know you. They're bitey, but not the worst out there. But you do NOT have the resources or the know-how to handle a Zweilous. Straight-up. They have high energy levels, need a LOT of food, and can and WILL injure themselves via infighting. There's a reason Hydregion is rare as hell, and it's because a lot of them don't make it to adulthood due to injuries. It's a survival of the fittest tactic. I love Hydregion. I have one. If you don't have a damn mountain range in your backyard, don't get one. They NEED a place to go off and be destructive, and they're territorial as all hell. Just don't. Please.

~~~

Next up, the Wild-Caught List!

As you can see, there's nothing on the acceptable starter list. I'll get into why in the next categories.

Fine with experience: You're looking at basically the same thing with the wild Kingdra line as you would be with a domestic breed, with one notable difference: Wild Horsea tend to be a lot less hardy and a lot more timid. It'll take it longer to start trusting you, but honestly just doing the upkeep to keep it happy and healthy should start winning it over. They're more intelligent than most people give 'em credit for. Your eventual Kingdra is probably also gonna be more headstrong, but honestly for some trainers, that's a good thing.

Dratini suffers from the same problem. They have pretty specific habitat needs- but if you're at the point in your journey where you get your hands on a wild Dratini, honestly I'd trust that you're able to provide what it needs. Bonus, though, is that while wild Dratini can be cautious, they're very curious, too! And if your vibes are good (lookin at you, Ray!) they're usually more than happy to come along with you. And as our dear friend Ray is learning, one that is eager to battle is a ready and willing student! There's a reason they have such a great reputation.

Might need outside help: Wild Druddigon tend to be pretty territorial, on top of all the stubbornness. They're usually also a bit more proactive in expressing the classic dragon type temperament. You're looking at more intensive training to get recalling down and increase their tolerance for being bothered. No shame in asking a dragon-type expert. That said, I still love these guys. If you can read their body language, you could probably get through a cave of them no problem.

Oh, Swablu. Swablu, what will we do with you? Wild Swablu are flighty little critters, and kind of frail, to boot. And wild Alteria are stubborn. They will not get dirty. They think they are better than you. This isn't to say they're awful! An Alteria is usually pretty affectionate with its trainer, wild or domestic. A properly-trained one isn't going to be raging any more than a Dragonite or a Kingdra. But trying to train a Swablu is harder than it seems, just because they're not great listeners. If You've got patience and a guide, you're fine, but really I'd suggest asking an expert.

I don't know how to say this without sounding mean. Please understand I've raised five Trapinch. They are. Difficult. and a little stupid. Wild ones especially don't really have any sort of grasp on the world of training. You are looking at one hell of an uphill battle. But they're kind of a rite of passage for Hoennian trainers, and if they can do it, you can too! Really, you're going to be doing most of the 'basic training' for these guys in the Vibrava stage. You should still be taking the time to get your Trapinch used to being balled and the sound of your voice, obviously, but the traditional way to train a Trapinch is to do double battles until it evolves. Then do a lot of the indoor-outdoor distinction, once it can understand what a building is. And if you can deal with a Trapinch, you can deal with a Flygon. They're pretty relaxed, especially for a dragon type.

Pros Only: You don't have the patience for a wild Gibble, and you almost certainly aren't capable of tying down The King of the Caves when he wants to rampage. That said, if you do manage to train one right, and you've got a firm hand an a certain kind of attitude, you've got a partner for life. A wild Garchomp's respect is a tough thing to earn, but it's worth it. I was debating putting him on the final tier, but honestly... if you're really, really dedicated it's certainly possible. But you NEED to get in contact with somebody who knows what they're doing. Trying to freehand training is going to get your arm torn off.

Honestly, with Salamence, you're looking at about the same issues as you would be with a domestic, with two exceptions: your Bagon's gonna be a bit more of a wild child (but still nothing crazy) and your Salamence is gonna be aggressive. No way around it. Keeping it trained is a full-time job. If you're not looking to make a trained team of six and would rather just focus on a few, then you might have the time to dedicate to making sure the training sticks. Otherwise, leave it.

You put that thing back where it came from or so help me: Look at me. Look at me. Do not go near a wild Hydregion. Do not attempt to steal a Hydregion's baby. You will die, and it will hurt the whole time you are dying. And then that beast is going to start rampaging, and if there's a human settlement on or even near its territory, they are going to pay the price for your stupidity. Then they'll call the rangers in, and IF they can subdue the Hydregion, they're not going to be able to release it, because Hydregion can always find their way back home. They'll have to put it down. Don't fucking do it.

You can probably keep and train a wild Axew. Just make sure it has an everstone, because you are in no way, shape, or form prepared for a wild Haxorous. See the above, minus the rampaging parts. They're usually content with just you and anybody in a direct line-of-sight. If you train it well, it'll probably just run off into the hills instead of attacking you, at least. They've got really powerful instincts, and need things most people can't provide. 'Oh but Laser, don't you have a wild-caught Haxorous?' I do and I also have an entire nature preserve, complete with mountain range. He loves me, in his own way. I know this because he is willing to wait for food and not attack everything in his territory. I can go into his territory without being instantly vaporized, and he's willing to come out of his territory and interact with me. This does not mean he is safe to be around. It only means that I have twenty years of experience. If you want one, get a domestic breed. There's plenty of Axew breeders all over Unova.

~~~

I hope this was informative! Please remember that pokemon are individuals, and not all of them will conform to what I've laid out here. Please also remember that your life is not worth the possibility that you could get that one in a billion, super nice Hydregion. Dragon types have their reputation for good reason, and I simply can't stress enough that you need to do a lot of research before owning any of them.

Good luck!

#I love my domestic Garchomp- got her as a trade wayyy back in the day #she keeps shit in LINE. like a very strict grandmother #And my Druddigon! I love you Ruddy my sweet baby and Todd my strange man #Ruddy was wild-caught and Todd is a domestic. Honestly super underrated #If I was a pokemon I think I'd be a Druddigon #laserland #pokemon #pokemonirl #pokemon irl #rotomblr #dragon type #got a little dark there but it's bc I know how kids are #they take a threat as a challenge

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obsidiancreates · 3 months ago

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I will get on my hands and knees and BEG for Booker x Grumley domestic fluff, please, I beg, I NEED more Uprooted content, especially Booker x Grumley!!

"Oh, wow." Grumley looks around their shared cells. "This is the nicest jail we've ever ended up in!"

"Is that a pillow mint?" Booker picks it up and gives it a cautious sniff. "How high are the taxes on these poor bastards? Well, at least it's going to making our stay comfortable."

Booker is inspecting the cell for weak points when he hears Grumley whimper. He turns around to see Grumley trying, in vain, to scratch behind his own ears.

"Whattya doin'? Come here, come here." Booker waves Grumley over and scratches the itch for him, leaving Grumley to sigh in relief. "You know that can't reach that spot."

"You were planning our great escape! I didn't want to bother you!"

"Okay first off, maybe say that first part a little quieter next time. Second, since when does planning something come before making sure you're all set? I'm not the one who volunteers you for kidney puncturing for plans."

"That's true." Grumley points behind his other ear, and Booker switches his focus there. "I'm sorry I couldn't fight off the guards."

"There were like, a hundred of them! You're one pug! If anything Peggy should've used her magic again!"

"The clown mask, right? Not the bottle with the fire?"

"Never again the bottle with the fire, I'm never getting those images out of my head as it is. My point is you're strong and you're brave but you're not our only option for intimidation so don't blame yourself for stuff that can't be helped. Hey, sometimes a con just goes wrong!"

"Thanks, Booker."

"Anytime, Grumley."

"... Can we have a little kiss? They cleaned my face folds before they tossed us in here."

"What is this jail, a spa? Alright, one little kiss then I have to get back to work."

"Okay!"

It's a quick, soft smooch, and it leaves Grumley contentedly laying on his belly on the floor watching Booker with his tail wagging as Booker, blushing, keeps trying to figure a way out of this one.

#legends of avantris #uprooted #uprooted: dimwits of the dimwood #uprooted booker #uprooted grumley #booker x grumley #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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petitelepus · 7 months ago

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The Demon Gift: Choosing Hantengu, Part 2

Demon!Slave!Hantengu X Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Hantengu are on your own from now and focus on the future, but your stepsiblings are honestly God awful.

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Demon Slave AU, Domesticated Demons, Reader Insert, Fem!Reader, Hantengu, Master/Slave, Karaku, Sekido, Urogi, Aizetsu

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

"I'm back," You called as you stepped into the hotel room and shut the door behind you, making sure to lock it just in case. You heard familiar whimpering and looked to see Hantengu, your recently bought Demon looking at you from the corner of the hotel room that he had claimed as his own spot.

It had been a few days since your stepfather had forced you to choose yourself a Demon slave from this awful slave market and against your stepfather's wishes, you had chosen the most pitiful, weakest, and ugliest Demon there was, aka Hantengu.

But you couldn't just leave him there where the people at the slave market beat him for fun! No one deserved to be treated that way, no matter who or what they were, human, Demon, master, or slave. Sadly, that was not how the world worked…

Your decision led you to be kicked out of your family and childhood home, but at least your douchebag stepfather had some decency to give you some, money so that while you were kicked out of your home you wouldn't end up on the streets. The money came with the heavy price of leaving your family… But you were never really part of that family, to begin with.

So you were looking for a place for you and Hantengu to live in and you had already managed to visit a couple of high-rise apartments that looked pretty nice to you and your Demon, but you needed some rest.

"How are you feeling Hantengu?" You asked as you sat on your bed and looked at him. He whimpered quietly as he nodded, "F- fine…"

"Okay, that's good. Better." You nodded and then noticed that the bowl of meat you had gotten for him before you had left was empty and you briefly wondered if he was still hungry.

"Are you hungry? Should I order you something?" You asked and he nodded shakily. You smiled as you reached for your hotel room's phone, but just as you were about to grab it, your phone suddenly started ringing.

Who could that have been? You frowned as you grabbed your phone from the table and looked to see it was your stepbrother calling.

You groaned, already dreading this phone call. Better get it done and over with so you accepted the call and raised the phone to your ear, "Hello?"

"Hey Noob!"

You almost groaned when you heard him call you by his little nickname.

"What do you want?" You asked and you heard him laugh, "So it's really true? Dad kicked you out for good?"

You couldn't help but notice how your brother and sister always got away when calling your stepfather dad, while you had to call him father and sometimes even sir. Must have been benefits of being directly same blood as the wicked rich man himself.

"Yeah, so what?"

"Hey, is it also true that the Demon you got is as weak and ugly as Hell?" He asked and now he was just trying to piss you off, as usual.

"Never heard of the saying, mind your own business?" You asked back, but your brother didn't get the hint, "What, are you letting that ugly thing fuck you? Is that it? Is that why you picked it? Are you some kind of a freak?"

You liked to think that you had grown tolerant of your horrible family after living years with them, but your brother was now being plain awful and horrible and it was really pissing you off.

"You insolent little-!"

"Ha, I knew it, I knew you were always a freak!" Your brother laughed and you growled as you forced yourself to calm down so you could ask him, "Why are you even calling me? Just to mock and make fun of me? How original of you."

"Just wanted to be the one to tell you that if you don't come pick up your stuff by the end of the week then it's all going to trash." You could almost hear him smirk, "All of it."

You were shocked by what you heard. You still had time, didn't you? It had been only a couple of days, how would they expect you to find your own place on such short notice?

"But father said he would send my stuff to my new place when I would find one!" You objected and he most likely shrugged on the other side of the phone.

"Yeah, me and sis talked to him and managed to convince him to just get rid of your stuff, seeing that you are no longer a member of this family."

Your eyes widened as you registered his words and you snapped, "Why would you do that?!"

"Oh, I don't know," You could almost see your no-good brother shrug, "We were bored and wanted just to stir the pot."

"You're a real asshole, you know that?" You hissed at the phone angrily and while you did not scare your brother, you certainly did scare poor Hantengu who whimpered out loud behind you.

"What the Hell was that, was that your Demon?" Your brother asked and you scowled, ready to snap at him, but he just laughed, "You have 4 days, better find a place soon or all your stuff goes to the trash!"

Now he was just repeating himself while being an asshole. You growled, about to curse at him, but just as you were going to; the phone call ended and you realized that he had hung up on you.

A second or two passed as you registered the whole conversation you just had and you couldn't help yourself, you just snapped.

"FUCK!" You shouted as loudly as you could, grabbed your pillow, and threw it against the wall as hard as you possibly could. Nothing seemed to go right anymore. It was like you were punished or something!

"H- Hiee!" Hantengu shrieked in fear and you snapped out of your fury. You glanced at the Demon over your shoulder and frowned sadly, "I'm sorry Hantengu, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Scary, so scary…!" He whimpered as he covered his tear-stained face and you sighed as you climbed over the bed to his side of the room.

Slowly, you raised your hand towards him and he instantly flinched. He was so fearful that he even feared you now and you were sure that your little outburst didn't help at all. You sighed as you slowly placed your hand against the bump on his head and started to gently pet it. He was still shivering and sobbing, but thanks to your gentleness he started to calm down slowly.

"I'm sorry Hantengu, I didn't mean to scare you." You apologized quietly and he slowly lowered his hands enough for you to see his red eyes as he looked up at you, "A- are you angry?"

"I am," You nodded and quickly added, "But not at you. Never at you."

He whimpered quietly, so quietly you barely heard him so you presumed that you had managed to calm him down enough that he stopped crying. You sighed as you pulled your hand back and rolled over to the other side of the bed where the phones were.

"If I remember correctly, you were still hungry and so am I. Shall we order something from room service?" You asked as you reached for the phone and Hantengu nodded shakily. Once you were done ordering pizza for yourself and meat for your timid Demon, you lay down on the bed and started to think about what you should do next.

You would have to find a place and quickly and while money did help, it didn't solve everything. You could contact one of the places you had been looking at and offer a generous amount of money, but you weren't feeling that positive. Honesty, you felt kinda shitty after talking with your even shittier brother.

As you thought, you figured out that the best choice was to rent a storage unit where you could put all your stuff until you found a place that was big enough for you and Hantengu. While the Demon barely took any space, he would no doubt need his own room and things to call his own.

Someone knocked on the door and you got up to see and sure enough, your pizza and Demon's meat came. You thanked the hotel worker, before taking the food and then you pushed the door shut with your hip.

"Dinner time," You said as you put the food on your huge bed and you looked over to see Hantengu looking at the huge bowl of meat hungrily. You sighed a little and patted the other side of the bed, "You can sit here, you know? No need to stay on the floor."

The Demon looked shocked that you offered him a place to eat beside you, his master, but slowly he crawled closer and closer until he was next to your bed. You were expecting him to climb up, but he stayed kneeling by the bed and reached for the bowl of meat from his spot on the floor.

Well, at least you got him to leave that corner of his. You pushed the bowl of meat to him and he greedily grabbed the bowl and started to eat like he hadn't eaten in ages and was starving, when he had in fact eaten earlier before you had gone to search a place to call home to the two of you.

You hummed as you grabbed yourself a slice of pizza and proceeded to eat by hand, much like the Demon did. You were both enjoying your meals in a kinda relaxed manner… Until Hantengu looked at you and whispered, "M- may I ask..?"

"Hm?" You hummed, your mouth full of pizza and the man swallowed nervously, "W- why is your family so mean…?"

Wow, that was quite a question. You hummed more before swallowing your mouthful and shrugging, "That's like asking why the sky is blue. Are you sure you want to hear?"

You expected him to shake his head, but instead, he nodded and you blinked, stunned. Well, you could guess that maybe your family drama was interesting to other people, much like reality TV.

Your pizza got forgotten as you started to tell your story to Hantengu. How your mother had raised you alone, your real father unknown to you, and perhaps even to your mom. You were maybe 4 or 5 years old when your mother married Adam Sliver, a corrupted rich man who had two kids of his own from his first and second marriage, making your mother his third and last wife.

Your mother had welcomed your new brother and sister with open arms, but they were honestly awful. Your siblings were spoiled rotten and were just as rotten inside. They made your life Hell and because they were your stepfather's real kids, they got away with everything.

Your stepfather was strict to you and he was a firm believer that physical punishment solved everything. Somehow this applied only to you and not your spoiled siblings. Maybe that is why you sympathized with Hantengu so much when those shitty masters beat him.

He wasn't the only one beating you, your Hellish siblings would torture you every chance they could get. You had gone crying to your mother but all she did was shush you and tell you to suck it up and not ruin one good thing in her life, which was the fact that she was married to a man as rich as some cartoon duck.

It hurt to learn and grow up knowing that even your own mother preferred this other side of the family over you, her own child, and her own blood.

When your siblings got old enough to get their own Demon slaves they finally let you be, but if you thought that they were cruel to, you then they were absolutely worse to those poor Demons. Abusing them, hurting them, making them fight against each other, only to discard them when they were broken for good. Truly, your family was the worst.

The rest of the day went by quickly while you ranted about your cursed family to Hantengu, who listened while quietly eating his bowl filled with meat.

While you talked, there were moments that were almost too painful to be remembered, but you refused to cry. You had cried your whole childhood and you were damned if you were going to let that wretched family of yours make you cry again. All you needed was to get your stuff and be done with that family of yours and never meet them ever again.

You were finally free of them, against all odds, choosing Hantengu set you free.

By the time you were done telling him your story, you were tired as Hell, both physically and mentally. You sighed as you looked at your cold half-eaten pizza, no longer hungry.

"I think I'll head to sleep now… Is that okay with you?" You asked and the Demon blinked, stunned by how again, you asked for his opinion on things.

Quietly, he nodded and you sighed as you stepped into the small bathroom to get prepared for the night and change into the nightdress you had bought a couple of days ago to sleep in. Once done, you slipped under the covers and shut the lights, turning quickly to look at your Demon slave who had returned to his corner.

"Good night Hantengu." You wished to the Demon who nodded quietly at you. You closed your eyes and calmed down, soon finding yourself in dreamlands… But while you were sleeping, Hantengu crawled next to your bed and stared at you through the whole night, as if the feeble creature was guarding your sleep.

How could you be so nice to him, of all creatures? Pitiful, weak, and scared Hantengu? Despite everything you had gone through in your life, you were still so kind. Maybe… Just maybe you were so gentle and kind because you were also the one who got hurt the most.

When the morning came and you woke up, he was back in his corner, curled on himself and sleeping softly. You hated that you had to make him sleep on the floor, but neither one of you liked the idea of sharing a bed, both new and too alien to each other.

You ordered yourself some French toast and meat for Hantengu as breakfast, and while the cooks downstairs cooked, you stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the Hellish day.

You were just done with yourself when the knock on the door alerted you and you went to accept your breakfast. Despite all the things happening, Hantengu kept sleeping. You smiled a little at the sight of the normally so skittish Demon finally resting. Silently, you set the bowl of meat next to him on the floor and sat on the bed to enjoy your toast.

Once your plate was empty and your tummy was full, you grabbed your phone and made a couple of quick calls. You needed some help to carry all your stuff out from your parents' manor and a truck to move the stuff to a storage unit that you quickly rented with your phone.

"Ngh…"

You blinked as you looked aside and noticed that Hantengu had awoken. You smiled a little, "Morning sleepyhead. There is some breakfast meat next to you if you would like some?"

He whimpered as he got on his knees and started to eat quickly with both hands like he was starving again. You hummed as you texted the moving men the address and then you got up to put the shoes on. Time to go and face that awful family of yours.

"I'm leaving now to get my stuff." You said as you put your shoes on and Hantengu glanced at you fearfully, "Y- you are coming back, right…? P- please…?"

"Of course. Once I get my laptop, we can search for a new home much easier than on my phone." You said as you walked to the door and smiled at the Demon before leaving, "I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise."

And you were gone. You called yourself a taxi and made your way to the mansion just outside the city. Your stepfather liked his privacy yet wanted to swank his money and power every chance he could. You told the taxi to wait as you stepped out of the car and walked inside as if you were still living there, fully knowing that you were stepping into the dragon's maw.

"Well well, look who it is! The Noob!"

You groaned and looked aside to see your fucking stepbrother Cecil looking at you, leaning against the wall with his sister and your stepsister Amanda.

"Brother. Sister." You nodded at both of them and Amanda scowled, "Ugh, don't call me your sister. It makes me feel disgusted!"

"Glad to know the feeling is mutual." You shot right back at her and her scowl hardened to the point her pretty face was ugly, "Ugh, fuck you!"

"Where is our father?" You asked, choosing to ignore your petty stepsister and Cecil shrugged, "Probably avoiding you."

"I would too if I were him." Amanda sneered, "I heard your slave is the ugliest thing dad has ever seen. Is it true?"

"Why would I tell you anything?" You tried to keep your face neutral, not giving them the satisfaction of pissing you off.

Amanda looked mad, but then she grinned smugly, "Oh, I see. You got yourself an ugly fucktoy! What, can't get a real guy so you get yourself an ugly Demon to fuck you?"

"You should know, bitch." You said right back at her and you patted yourself on the shoulder mentally. You were on fire today.

Amanda's face turned red, she was that mad, but Cecil rolled his eyes, unimpressed by your girls' hissy fits, "Gross, just get your stuff and get out. The faster you are gone, the better, Noob."

"I couldn't agree more." You nodded as you walked upstairs where your room was located and stepped inside. Your eyes widened as you saw that everything you owned had been trashed or some other way destroyed.

Your plushies were torn apart and your comics and their pages were spread all over the room. Your figurines had been trembled into pieces and everything you liked or cherished had been destroyed. Even your computer and gaming consoles were destroyed.

You stared at the room in shock until Amanda's cruel laughter snapped you out of your trance, "Ha ha, sorry, but we wanted to make packing easier for you so we just got rid of everything you don't deserve!"

You were absolutely trembling, you were so mad. How could someone be so cruel?

"Oops? Did I strike a nerve? What, are you going to cry like a little baby? Are you a baby?" Amanda laughed as she used baby voice to talk to you and you squeezed your fists, trying your hardest to control yourself because if you didn't then you would end up breaking her fucking nose which cost about 7 000 dollars.

Quietly, you went to retrieve what was left of your consoles and computer, but as you were about to leave, Amanda tried her hardest to block your way, "What, nothing smart to say now, do you?"

"You know what?" You groaned as you looked at this bitch and this bastard you had to call brother with murderous intent.

"I hope you guys rot in Hell…!" You hissed as you pushed your way past them and rushed out of the manor. You stepped into the taxi and told the driver to head back to the city and back to your hotel. You needed some time alone and somewhere safe, like in the safety of the hotel room with Hantengu.

While you were on your way back to the hotel, you called the moving firm and canceled the moving truck and men. While you were at it, you also canceled your storage unit. No use renting one when you don't have anything to store there.

Thanks to your stepfather buying you out of the family, you had more than enough money to buy everything you lost again, but there was some stuff you just couldn't get back…

You looked at what was left of your computer and consoles and sighed. You knew you had everything saved in them, so if you just bought a new computer and gaming console, you could transfer all your data to a new machine. Still, you felt so abused as your whole fortune had been destroyed.

You made a mental note to get a brand new phone number and email so your siblings or parents wouldn't be able to ever reach you again.

When you finally made it back to the hotel, you paid the nice and patient taxi driver before you collected what was left of your electronics and entered the hotel. The elevator ride felt like an eternity and you felt like a soldier who came back home from war. You swiped your room card and stepped into your room, sighing as you closed the door behind you.

"I'm back Hantengu…" You sighed as you kicked your shoes off.

"And I'm just so-!" You were saying when your eyes landed on 4 very handsome and naked Demons, only having short towels wrapped around their waists.

You blinked and one of the men, the one with bright green eyes laughed, "Look! Mistress is back!"

"About time!" A Demon with crimson eyes scowled and one with golden eyes smiled, "We are so happy to see you!"

"She looks awfully faint…" A blue-eyed Demon frowned, but you couldn't reply as you lost your consciousness and fainted on the spot.

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finnsbubblegum · 2 years ago

Text

Little Joel Miller (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: birth, needle, fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel (let me know if i missed any)

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Summary: welcoming little Joel Miller to the world.

Words count: 1.6k

A/N: This series is ending really really soon so be ready 🥺 This is part 20 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ Love you!

Thank you @siesie2 for your comment and idea!!

Let's pretend the GIF is you and Joel because I can't find one that looks good for this chapter!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Epilogue

“Remind me how you convinced me to watch a horror movie again?” Joel tapped your shoulder.

You were laying on your sides on the couch, head resting on Joel’s lap.

“I love scary movies.” You scoffed.

“Well, I hate it.” Joel clicked his tongue.

“You’re a big guy but you can’t even stand scary movies.” You laughed.

“I can handle blood and killing stuff in movies but not ghosts.” Joel protested.

*eerie music from the movie*

Guessing from the music, you knew the ghost was coming soon. You got ready to scare Joel.

*the ghost appeared*

“Ahh!” You sat and screamed at his face.

“Fuuuck!” Joel screamed and flinched.

You laughed so hard at his face.

“You really have to see your face!” You laughed holding your belly.

“You’re really really bad, mama.” Joel shook his head.

His heart was about to burst. But you enjoyed teasing him. He was cute when he was like that.

“You need to be punished, baby.” Joel crawled to you and tickled you.

“No! No! Stop it!” You giggled.

Joel knew your weakness was being tickled. You were ticklish. But Joel had to have revenge. He kept tickling you and laughed. You kept giggling as he tickled you. Your belly moved up and down as you laughed.

“Ooh-Ooh.” You felt a gush of liquid.

“I think I just peed a little.” You giggled.

“Mission accomplished.” Joel proudly said to you as he got his revenge done.

You thought it was pee so you tried to hold it but you couldn’t. Apparently, your water broke.

“Shit, Joel. I think it wasn’t pee.” Your heart was beating faster.

“Don’t prank me again, baby.” Joel didn’t believe you.

“Do you really think I’m joking?!” You stood up and more liquid flowed down your thighs.

“Fuck! Ughh-” You groaned as you felt a shooting pain in your abdomen.

“Fuck-I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Joel stood up and held your hand.

You glared at him. You were not okay. You were scared actually. It was your first time having a baby and you were scared to death.

“I’m not okay, Joel. I’m scared.” Your voice cracked.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you to the hospital. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m here.” Joel put his arms around you and guided you to the car.

You had everything ready a week before and put the hospital bag inside the car. So you wouldn’t have to move the stuff when you were already in a panic mode when your water broke.

Joel drove as fast as he could to the hospital. He lent his hand for you to squeeze throughout the way to the hospital. Even though it didn’t help to ease your pain, his touch and existence gave you comfort.

“Fuuucckk.” You made a low guttural sound to let out the pain.

“Wish I could take your pain, baby.” Joel sat beside the hospital bed you were laying down.

He took your hand and kissed the back of your hand. Joel kept kissing and rubbing your hand with his thumb hoping to ease your pain. His heart broke at the thought of not being able to take your pain away. He couldn’t see you in pain, his eyes were getting teary seeing you crying in pain.

“Joel..It hurts so much.” A tear fell down your cheeks.

“What can I do for you, baby?” He raised your hand and brought it to his lips.

“Ugghh..” You squeezed his hand.

Initially, you wanted to have a natural birth and feel the pain of giving birth without epidurals. But now you were having second thoughts. You thought you could handle it but turned out the pain was unendurable.

“Joel-please-” You cried.

“What baby? What can I do?” Joel nodded and looked at you.

“I want the drugs. I need the epidural.” You begged.

“Okay, wait here. I’ll call the nurse.” Joel placed a kiss on your forehead and left the hospital room

A few moments later, the anesthesiologist and nurse came in with all the stuff they needed to inject the epidural for you. You saw a really big needle. Your heart beat faster. You could handle the normal needle but this one was the biggest you had ever seen.

“That..is..the biggest needle I’ve ever seen.” Your eyes widened.

“Is that going to be inside me?” Suddenly the pain was gone.

“We will inject this to your spine, Mrs. Miller.” The anesthesiologist answered.

“Ughh..” You groaned.

Then the nurse helped to sit in the correct position and get ready for injecting the epidural. Joel was there beside you. His heart beat faster too as he saw the needle that would soon be injected to your spine.

“Hold my hand.” You asked for Joel’s hand.

Joel immediately lent his hand and gave a strong grip to your hand. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in and out before the needle was inserted to your body. You squeezed his hand when you felt the needle injected to your spine. You hissed at the sting.

“It’s done.” The doctor tapped your shoulder.

You breathed out in relief.

“Thank you.” You thanked the doctor and nurses.

The epidural worked so well. You felt less pain and you tried to sleep to get some rest. Joel was always there beside you. He took some rest when you sleep so he could stay awake when he needed you. A few hours later, it was finally the time for the baby to come out.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to push in 1, 2, 3..” Your doctor guided you to push.

You held your breath, chin to your chest and pushed.

“You’re doing great, baby.” Joel held your hand and leg.

He kept telling you encouraging words and being your rock. You were grateful Joel was there because you couldn’t do it alone. After a few pushes, your baby boy was finally born. Tears falling down your cheeks when you hear a cry from your baby. Joel cried too.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” Joel tucked your sweaty hair behind your ear then placed a kiss on your temple.

“Hi baby. Hi~” You stroked your baby that was laying on your chest.

“He looks like you, Joel. Little Joel Miller is here.” You teared up adoring your baby boy.

“Hi there, son.” Joel leaned in to get a closer look at his baby boy. He was tearing up too.

Then the nurses brought your baby to give him a bath, weigh him and check everything. Your baby was healthy and that was everything you needed. Your weak body laid on the hospital bed happy but felt weird.

“I feel weird.” You turned your head to Joel who couldn’t stop looking at his baby boy.

“What’s wrong? Do you want me to call the nurse?” Joel panicked.

“No-no. I just-It’s weird that he’s here now. I used to carry him for 40 weeks and now he’s here. And the fact that we made him.” You chuckled.

“We made him.” Joel shook his head and chuckled at your words.

“He’s a part of the two of us, Joel. Can you believe it?” You started to tear up.

“Hey, hey. Why are you crying?” Joel came to you and sat on the edge of the hospital bed.

“It’s happy tears. Don’t worry.” You chuckled as you sniffled.

“Thank you for bringing him to this world, baby. Our world. I promise I will protect our family with my life. I love you.” Joel kissed your forehead and stroked your head.

“I love you too.” You smiled and invited him to lay on the bed with you.

Two days went by, you were finally able to go home with your newborn baby. Joel had called your mom and she said she would wait for you at your house with Sarah. Joel took the carseat with your baby sleeping in it then he helped you get out of the car.

“Hold on to me.” Joel put his arms around you. One hand holding your baby in the carseat.

“Ugh..” You groaned at the discomfort you were feeling as you got out of the car.

“You good?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“Hmm. Yeah.” You nodded.

Joel held your weight and walked you inside the house slowly.

“Oh my God!” Your mom squealed as she saw the sleeping baby.

“How are you feeling?” Your mom hugged you.

“I’m happy mom. But I need sleep.” You joked.

“I’ll make you some tea.” Your mom went to the kitchen.

“Where is he? Where is he?” Sarah jumped and ran to you.

“Hi, sweetie. Your brother’s sleeping. You need to calm down.” You stroked her head and chuckled.

Joel put the carseat on the coffee table so everyone could meet his boy.

“Sit here, baby.” Joel put a cushion on the couch for you to sit.

“Thank you, honey.” You stroked his upper arm and sat.

“Hi Sammy!” Sarah took her baby brother’s small hands and waved it gently.

You and Joel decided to name your son Sam. But he would always be little Joel Miller.

“Do you want to hold him, babygirl?” Joel asked his daughter.

“Can I?” Sarah got excited.

“Of course you can, sweetie.” You rested your head on the couch and rubbed your belly.

“Sit here.” Joel patted the empty space between you and him on the couch for Sarah to sit.

“Place your hand like this.” Joel demonstrated to Sarah and she followed him.

“Hold his head, okay.” Joel slowly put his son in Sarah's arms.

“That’s it babygirl.” Joel smiled, proud of his daughter being a big sister.

“You’re a big sister now, Sarah.” You stroked her head.

“I’m your big sister.” Sarah cooed to her baby brother and kissed his cheek.

Joel smiled looking at Sarah holding her baby brother. Then he rested his hand on your shoulder. You smiled at him when he rubbed your shoulder.

“I love you.” Joel mouthed to you.

To be continued…

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @padgraysonssram8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr @avengersfan25 @xixxala @dianaffddz @onzayhe @violetwitchmcu @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @kelh27

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vivwritesfics · 7 months ago

Text

Shine A Light Into The Wreckage

Chapter Four - Not-Bob

Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook. He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.

Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive choking! Forceful sex! Domestic abuse! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this! Talks of stalking (but in a non serious manner) (Specifically this chapter has 0 warnings, it's just cute)

Series Masterlist

"You officially dress like a grandpa."

On the two other times they had met, she had been at the café before him, almost like she was waiting for him. This time, though, Bob was there first. He had her hazelnut latte with oat milk and a black coffee in front of him.

When she took off her bag and sat opposite him, Bob pushed the hazelnut latte towards her. "You know," she began as she settled into her seat. "I come here to write. You're making it really hard, Bobby," she said, wearing a smile. "But thank you."

Bob gave it a second. "You owe me a name," he said, one hand around his coffee shop mug.

"You're a terrible stalker." She shook her head, grin widening as she took another sip. It was perfect, her exact order. But then she gave him her name.

Bob repeated it back to her, letting it roll off the tongue. "It's nice," he said. "Nicer than Bob."

"Shut up," she said quickly. But it wasn’t malicious in any way. "If you don't like it, why does everybody call you Bob?"

Bob brought his coffee to his lips. "It's my Callsign," he said as he took in a too big sip, burning his mouth in the process. But Bob ignored the sensation as he looked at her.

She looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "What's a Callsign?"

"It's pretty much a nickname that's used for identification. There's probably loads of Roberts on a carrier at any one time but I'm the only Bob," he said and adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit.

She folded her arms over her chest, holding her elbows as she looked at him. "Well, I like Bob," she said, reaching for her coffee. "It's... nice." She couldn't tell him it was cute, even if that was what she meant.

Bob looked around at the café. On the two previous occasions they had met, she had been alone. Even now she was sitting with Bob. Not friends, not her boyfriend. She was alone, aside from Bob.

"What do you do for fun around here?" Bob asked as he leaned forward.

She let out a laugh, but only a weak one. "What do I do for fun? What do you do for fun, Mr Pilot Guy?"

"I go to The Hard Deck," Bob answered.

He stared at her as he waited for her to answer. But, for the first time since they had met, he had left her without anything to say.

Her eyes met his as she fiddled with her cream, cuffed sleeve of her sweater. "Is it... do you guys really have fun in there?" She asked him.

Bob's brows furrowed behind his glasses. "I thought you said you'd been there."

"I have!" She said quickly. "But, you know, it wasn’t all that fun," the last part she said quietly.

That look crossed her face again, the one she wore when he had asked about the book. As much Bob wanted to reach across and touch her hand, he didn’t. "You could come with us, if you'd like. I'd make sure Hangman behaves."

"Yeah," she responded quietly. "I might take you up on that."

She quickly changed the subject, making things light and fun once again. She asked him about Montana, she had so many questions about Montana. Bob answered all of them. He told her about his grandparents farm, about the little house at the bottom of the property. When he was eighteen he had promised his Grandma that he would fix it up, but he hadn't gotten around to it yet. But he had certainly meant to.

She checked the time on her phone periodically, comparing it to the sky. Watching for when it got dark, Bob figured. He had hoped that, once again, he'd get to walk her home.

But, when the sky turned orange, she stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. "I've got to go," she said with a smile. "Thanks for the coffee, Bob."

He stood up with her, bumping the table as he did so. "Do you want me to walk you home? I'm more than happy to," he said, but she shook her head.

"It's okay," she replied and looked at the sky as it turned orange. "It's not dark yet."

But, still, Bob wasn't quite ready to say goodbye. "It's on my way home. It really wouldn't be a-"

"I said no, Bob," she said suddenly, firmly. "Drop it."

Bob just watched her as she walked out of the cafe, shoving her hands into her pockets as she walked down the street. As soon as he couldn't see her, he walked out of the cafe and climbed into his truck. He watched her in his rearview mirror, at least until she turned the corner.

Bob couldn’t help but sigh as he drove off, heading in the other direction to his apartment. He hadn't meant to lie about where he lived and, while it felt harmless at the time, Bob regretted it.

When she disappeared, he let out a sigh and began driving back to his house, back to Frodo. Did she like cats, he found himself wondering. Would she like Frodo if she met him? Frodo would like her. He'd attached himself to the few women that had come into his little house.

***

On the Monday, Bob volunteered for the coffee run yet again. He was already patting his wallet as he began walking out to his truck.

But a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "I'll get it, Baby Bob," said Jake. He gave Bob no time to respond as he climbed into his own car.

"Wait!" Bob called as he watched the car disappear. "Hangman!"

Jake wasn't getting the coffee out of the goodness of his heart. He wasn't doing it to pay Bob back for all of the times he had paid for coffee. He wasn't doing it to give Bob time to prepare for his next lesson at Top Gun.

When Bob was gone for all of those hours on Saturday, he and Natasha had been discussing all sorts of theories. After going in circles, they narrowed in on the cute barista with the pink hair.

Jake parked up outside of the cafe. He climbed out of the car and strode in with the confidence of a saltwater crocodile (a notoriously confident animal).

He didn't spot the cute barista with the pink hair right away. His eyes scanned behind the counter as he stepped up to it. He rang the bell, waiting for someone to serve him.

The cute barista with the pink hair came around the corner. "Hey there," she said with a charming smile.

Jake didn't know what Bob's type was, didn't know that his type was sitting on one of the tables behind him, writing in her newly acquired notebook.

Jake wore his award winning, charming smile as he looked at her name tag. "Hello," he squinted at her name tag, "Mariana," he said, drumming his fingers against the counter top. "Can I get three black coffees?"

Immediately she turned to make coffee. "Do you like a man in uniform, Mariana?" He asked.

"Sure, hun," she said and placed the first coffee in a cup holder on the counter in front of him.

"Yeah," Jake muttered as he rocked on the balls of his feet. "Yeah, one of my fellow aviators has been coming in here a lot," he said. "You haven't seen him, have you? These geeky glasses, Callsign Bob?"

Mariana wore a contemplative expression as she placed the other two coffees in the cup holder.

"Yeah," she finally said, nodding. "Yeah. A hazelnut oat latte and either a black coffee or a tea," she said, looking past Jake. But her eyes quickly went back to him as she rang him up.

He pulled the money from his wallet. "So, Bob hasn't been flirting with you?" He asked with his brows furrowed.

Mariana couldn't stop the laugh from leaving her lips. "I wish," she said to him. "Hasn't he gotten a girlfriend? He always gets his drinks and then sits on one of the back tables with a girl in a knit sweater."

Jake picked up his coffees, thanked her and walked out of the cafe. He climbed into his car and looked back towards the café. Girl in a sweater. He was looking for a girl in a knit sweater.

Of the three people sitting in the café, none of them were wearing a knit sweater.

Jake let out a sigh as he drove away.

She had noticed him the moment he had walked into the cafe. His khaki uniform was the same as what Bob was wearing when they first met, when he threw the coffee over her. She couldn't help but hope it was him, until she looked at his face.

She was crushed with disappointment.

When Not-Bob started talking to the barista, she tried not to listen in. It wasn't her business what this navy man was talking about. He wasn't Bob, so why should she care? Even if it was Bob, she shouldn't be caring if he was flirting with Mariana.

But then Not-Bob mentioned Bob's name, and she couldn't stop herself from listening in. The questions that Not-Bob directed at Mariana, she couldn't help but think that they should have been directed at her.

She sipped her hazelnut oat latte, pen still against the paper as she listened. When Mariana told Not-Bob about her sweater, she grinned, holding back a laugh. Oh yeah, they were definitely talking about her.

Not-Bob thanked Mariana and walked out of the café. She watched him sit in his car for a moment before he drove away.

When he was gone, she closed her notebook and tucked her pen into the binder rings. Slipping her notebook back into her bag she stood up and left the cafe, making her way back to her office.

As she sat at her desk, she stared at the phone. All she wanted was for it to ring, just for something to do. Her notebook, the one that Bob had bought for her, was in front of her, open once again, but she didn't write in it, not with how her boss was staring at her from the office.

The phone finally rang and she directed the call to the salesman. At the sight of her finally doing her job, her boss looked away and she began writing in the notebook.

If she had been clever, she would have gotten Bob to give her his number. God knows she would have spent all day texting him if she had his number.

But then, if she did have his number, how long until Ken found out? How long until Ken broke this phone, just like the last phone she had?

She knew she had to get Bob's phone number, but she wanted to put it off. When Ken found out about Bob, there was no telling what he would do. There was no way she would ever see Bob after, and she enjoyed his company far too much for that.

She would go to The Hard Deck. Ken be damned, she'd go. It was all planned out in her head, what she would do and how she would do it.

All through the work day she imagined how that night would go. Drinking with him, meeting his friends. It sounded like a perfect night, better than any night she had spent with Ken in a long time.

But the more she thought about it, the more anxiety settled in her stomach.

Her boss cleared her throat and she picked up the phone, one she hadn't noticed was ringing.

Taglist: @biancathecool @not-nyasa @burningwitchprincess @darksparklesficrecs @primroseluna @littlemsbumblebee @wretchedmo @imaginecrushes @calpalsbestie

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x you #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #rober floyd fluff #robert floyd x you #robert bob floyd #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun bob #lewis pullman

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many-but-one · 1 month ago

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Hi, I'm a ramcoa system. I wanted to ask a small question. It's hard to find resources for this sort of stuff, but have you ever heard anything relating to cicadas? Programs, symbols for aomthing, etc? /genq

I haven't personally heard anything about cicadas, but I can see why programmers might use cicada terminology or try to program a kid to believe they *are* a cicada. They live underground and hidden for a certain number of years and only come out to complete one task (procreate and then die) which could be something abusers would want in a particular alter. We have alters who are programmed to believe they are certain types of bugs, animals, or mythical creatures based on what is most understood about that bug/animal/creature to shape that alter's perception of the world and how they act when they front. Some examples I can provide based on multiple programmed systems I've met:

Note: not all of this will be the same for every programmed system, this is just what I've observed.

angels often relate to being bound to a "god" and being unable to disobey, the god being the programmer.

foxes are considered both hunters and hunted, and so fox related programming can go in many directions, whether it is teaching children that they must be cunning and smart "hunters" or teaching them that no matter how far or fast they try to run, they will never be able to escape. The latter is very common for prey animal related programming, which can include rabbits, deer, and other commonly hunted animals.

cats also have a wide variety of programming modalities, as cats can be both small (domesticated) and weak as well as large (wild) and fierce. Sex kitten programming is common, as it's a common fetish among people who watch CSEM and almost all programming is for the purposes of making CSEM or sex trafficking children.

spider related programming often relates to being "trapped in a web" and "never being able to escape." Spider programmed parts also often relate to perpetrated violence because of their negative connotation. It's also easy to procure spiders to traumatize children with.

computers or robots are already "programmed" so if you can convince a kid that they are a robot or computer, it can be pretty easy to convince them that they have no free will and cannot think for themselves, only do what they are programmed to do.

object alters in general are very common, as objects cannot think for themselves, and programmers don't want kids to think for themselves, because if they can think for themselves, that means they have free will and that's the last thing the programmers want kids to believe.

soldiers follow the commands of their superiors, and the punishments for not doing so can be dangerous in the child's eyes, so they will default to following the orders of their commanders (the programmers)

and many, many more. Literally anything that exists in the world a programmer can figure out a way to manipulate a kid to believe they are that thing (via costumes and props, dissociation, torture, drugging, hypnotic suggestion, etc). There's common ones like discussed above, but there can be any range of thing out there.

I hope this answers your question at least a little bit. Unfortunately, programming techniques change frequently over time with the addition of things like AR/VR and other technical and mechanical things that have improved over the years, so the books and information you see about programming that are out now often don't encompass what programming looks like in this day in age. The stuff in books like Alison Miller's are considered "old age programming" and current day "new age programming" looks much different and has different motives, of which there hasn't been much information written about it because survivors haven't had the chance to heal enough to be able to write about it and share their experiences, and not many therapists are willing to put their licenses on the line to talk about the stuff their clients talk about.

That's all I've got for this ask. Take care, anon.

-Many

#answered ask #anon ask #programming #programming tw #ramcoa tw #ramcoa #hcdid #manybutone

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potatoplace · 3 months ago

Text

Omega Needs - Chapter 8

Feylin, eventual Feysand

chapter 7 | chapter 9 | series masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, domestic arguments, slut shaming, mentions of gore (UTM arm stuff) body shaming, small mention of forced food restriction, this chapter is kinda painful, feylin smut, Ianthe

Words: ~5.2k

Author's Note: it's here! I'm very happy with this chapter- well. I'm sad about it cause poor Feyre 😭 it ended up being more brutal than I had imagined it would be?? So um. Yeah. I hate, hate, hate Ianthe. I hope you guys like the chapter!

18+ only pls

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Feyre was dying.

She was sure of it. She had to be dying, with the overwhelming heat coming off of her and the immense pains in her abdomen.

Granted, Feyre’s thoughts had been very muddled lately, moments in time disappearing from her memory and nothing made sense.

Feyre had realized again that she was back in Spring, separated from her perfect nest she had made before. She wasn’t sure how many days had passed, how long she had been drifting in and out of sleep.

Ianthe visited her far too often, cramming food into Feyre’s mouth and commanding her to eat and plying her with tea that sent her back to sleep.

Tamlin had come to her four times.

Feyre knew that one for sure, she could vividly remember the instant relief she felt when the alpha had knotted her, each and every time.

She only wished it had happened more often.

Right now, Feyre had her hand between her thighs, desperately trying to find some sort of reprieve from the fire ravaging her flesh. She’d been in the same position, hips rocking when she could summon the energy. She wished she had her nightgown still, the one that smelled so perfect. But it had disappeared at some point when she was asleep.

Her bedroom door swung open, and Feyre managed to look towards it, hoping to scent her alpha-

But it was the rancid scent of Ianthe, wilting roses and dirt that got stuck in her nose for hours after she was left alone.

Feyre groaned, turning away from the alpha as quickly as she could manage.

“Feyre, we’ve talked about this. You need to eat, and you need to drink something,” Ianthe scolded. “Now, turn around omega.”

She fought the command as long as she could, but she was already so weak, so tired. Feyre rolled back to the alpha, grimacing as pain lanced through her.

Ianthe attempted to pry Feyre’s mouth open and place a piece of a sandwich inside, but Feyre wouldn’t budge.

The taste of her fingers were like ash, and Feyre nearly vomited, but she held her mouth closed, unwilling to eat the food she was offering. Every time she ate, it meant that Tamlin would not appear, and she needed his knot.

Feyre kept turning her head away from Ianthe’s chilled fingers, until finally the alpha huffed and stormed out of the room.

Finally. The scent of her would linger, but the intensity was already so much lesser…

Her right hand returned to between her thighs, slowly rubbing at the bundle of nerves there.

She wished she still had her nightgown, the one with her alpha’s scent… just the thought of it, so fresh and clean and intoxicating lessened the burning of her body for a moment, before kicking up to a level higher than before.

Feyre let out a wail, in so much pain that she could hardly breathe.

The door opened once more, and the scent of lilacs, cedar and earth filled Feyre’s senses. Or nearly what she needed, but it would do.

She took a few greedy lungfuls before turning her head to the door to watch Tamlin swing it shut.

“Alpha,” she groaned, and she wanted to present for him, if only she had the strength in her limbs to do so.

“Omega. Ianthe said you refuse to eat.” His voice was tense, verging on angry and Feyre cowered into herself, terrified that she made the alpha upset. “You need to eat, Feyre.”

“Pain,” Feyre whispered.

Tamlin gave her a pitying look before approaching her in her nest and sitting down next to her. “You hurt too much to eat, omega?” He asked, and Feyre nodded her head slightly. “Do you need alpha’s knot?”

Feyre moaned at that, the thought of being filled and locked to an alpha just what she needed. She let Tamlin pull the sheets from her body, prowling over her naked form. She was already leaking slick steadily, and he was able to push in in one slow thrust, stopping for a moment to let Feyre bask in the fullness.

Finally. Finally full again.

Feyre came quickly, her body overstimulated from the days on end need that flooded her. Her second came as Tamlin’s knot started to catch, so close to what she needs.

And then they were blissfully locked together, Tamlin’s seed coating her insides. I hope I have a baby, Feyre thought as Tamlin gently laid them on their sides, and arm wrapping around Feyre’s torso. Feyre sighed, the heat finally abating for the moment.

She had nearly nodded off to the calming sound of Tamlin’s breathing and steady heartbeat when his knot started to deflate, and he moved to pull away.

All tiredness left Feyre’s body, and she was flooded with instant panic as she quickly turned to wrap her arms around the alpha.

“Don’t leave, alpha, please don’t leave me,” Feyre cried pathetically, fat tears already pouring from her eyes. “I’ll do whatever you want please just don’t leave me, stay with me.”

Tamlin let out a heavy sigh. “Feyre, you know I have things to-”

“Alpha, please,” she wailed, grasping tighter to him when he tried to move.

Another sigh. “If you eat, omega, I will stay with you. But you need to eat and drink,” he commanded gently, and Feyre bobbed her head in agreement.

She still didn’t move.

“Omega, you need to sit back against the headboard to eat.” She let go of him with a pout on her face, but scooted back against the wall as he asked. Tamlin moved the tray that Ianthe had brought in onto the bed right in front of Feyre’s crossed legs. “Eat.”

Feyre sighed and picked up the sandwich, bland and ashy on her tongue. She choked it down as quickly as she could, then took the teacup that Tamlin was now offering her and drained that swiftly. Feyre placed the cup back on the tray, and turned her eyes on the alpha expectantly.

Tamlin moved the tray onto her nightstand and moved up the bed, taking Feyre in his arms. He pulled a blanket over them, a pale green and entirely too scratchy on Feyre’s sensitive skin, but it would have to do. Feyre snuggled into his hold, breathing in his scent and relaxing as she listened to his heartbeat.

Tamlin kept his word and stayed with Feyre throughout the night, knotting her a total of five times.

When she awoke for the final time, her mind felt clear once more. Her heat was nearly gone now, only a dull ache and mild fever after receiving the care and hormones she needed.

Tamlin stirred behind her, his arm tightening around her middle before pulling away entirely. Feyre rolled to follow his body, still not ready to be without her alpha.

“Tam? Where are you going?” Feyre asked softly as he stood up from the bed and began pulling his clothes on.

“I have a meeting to get to, Feyre. I’ll have Ianthe come and check on you soon,” Tamlin said stiffly, already fully clothed and walking towards the door. Anger bubbled in Feyre’s chest, overriding any sleepiness she had held onto.

“This isn’t fair!” Feyre yelled at his back. “You barely helped me during my heat, you haven’t marked me, you didn’t think to let me choose how to decorate my nest! It’s like you don’t even care about me anymore!”

Tamlin spun around faster than Feyre had seen him move in a long time, faster than at their wedding. “I’m the one who doesn’t care?!” He shouted back at her, his scent and face flooded with anger. “You couldn’t even make it down the aisle to me Feyre, how do you think that made me feel? And then you run off with him, when you were due for your heat any day!”

“You know that I had no control over-”

“You came home reeking of Rhysand! Lucien said you were clinging to him, like some desperate omega whore!” He spat at Feyre, and she shrank down into her bed.

“Get out,” Feyre whispered, pulling the blankets over her body tightly.

“Feyre, I didn’t-”

“Get out!” Feyre screamed, throwing a pillow at him as hard as she could. A moment later her door opened and slammed shut, rattling in its frame.

Tears streamed down Feyre’s face as she curled in on herself tightly, a pillow clutched to her chest.

Omega whore. That’s what she had been, hadn’t she? She had gone into Rhysand’s room, slept in his bed, ground against him…

Feyre sobbed. Everything Tamlin said was true. She was a horrible, horrible omega. She doesn’t deserve his mark, that’s probably why he hasn’t given it to her yet.

Hours passed, but Feyre stayed in the same position, tears constantly flowing down her face.

The thoughts wouldn’t leave.

Feyre stayed there until the sun had dipped below the horizon, after Ianthe had come to try and force her down to the dining room.

She finally moved to bathe. Her body felt disgusting after however many days she had spent in a heat soaked haze. The warmth of the water did little to warm her heart, which felt cold and brittle at the moment. Like she would shatter with one more vicious word from Tamlin.

Feyre stayed in there until her skin was pruney and the water had cooled, barely managing to wash herself with her limited energy. She dragged herself out, drying herself a bit before stumbling back into her bedroom.

Her nest was atrocious. She could see that now, after having built one exactly how she liked in the Night Court. It was filled with muted greens and browns, colors that she had felt safe wrapped in when she was a human- but now, now she needed vibrancy, a reminder that life is bright and joyful even when she doesn’t feel that way.

This nest, she hates.

Feyre ripped all of the blankets off, the pillows, the finally the sage green sheets, all of them tossed into the corner of her room. Feyre went through her closet and wardrobe, happening across a set of dusty pink sheets and a soft white cotton nightgown.

Better than nothing.

She pulled the nightgown over her head, then put the sheets on as fast as she could manage, feeling her exhaustion creeping back in after all of the movement. She slipped between them, relieved that these sheets seemed softer than the ones before. Feyre sighed, letting the tension leave her body with it as she curled in on herself again.

Omega whore.

Tears trailed down her face again as the insult echoed in her mind.

Finally, Feyre slipped into sleep.

Nightmares found her.

She was back under that mountain, trapped in a cell once more with her arm a broken, infected mess. This time, Tamlin came to see her.

“Does it hurt, omega?”

Feyre’s face scrunched at the title- “What?”

“Your arm,” he said, gesturing to it. Feyre looked down at it, saw the bone poking through skin. She nodded and looked back to him. “Good. Stupid omega whores like you deserve to be in pain.” Faster than she could see, his hand darted through the bars of her cell, fingers grabbing the bone protruding through her skin and pulled.

Feyre screamed, the pain worse than anything she had ever faced, but he didn’t let up. He grabbed her arms with his other hand and twisted, bones snapping further-

Feyre bolted out of bed, barely getting to the toilet in time to empty the contents of her stomach into it.

Knocks were coming from Feyre’s door, had been since she woke, and the door quickly opened after her retching started.

“Feyre, are you okay?” Lucien asked as he pulled her hair away from her face, a soothing hand on her back and she leaned on the bowl of the toilet for support.

“Nightmare,” Feyre whispered once she was certain her stomach was empty. She rinsed her mouth in the sink as thoroughly as she could. “What did you want?”

Lucien looked her up and down, taking in her pale, shaking frame. “I wanted to invite you out for breakfast in the gardens,” he suggested gently. “Tamlin…” Feyre shook harder at his name, and Lucien took her hands into his, the alpha’s scent of autumn leaves and crisp wind and calm soothing Feyre’s omega. “He told me what happened, your fight. I wanted to make sure you are okay, and offer you a way out of breakfast in the dining room if you wish.”

Feyre nodded her head. That sounded nice, better than dealing with Tamlin’s cruel words bouncing around in her head as he and Ianthe most likely ignored her. “I’d like that. Give me a moment to change?”

“Of course, Feyre. I’ll be waiting outside,” the redhead said with a soft smile. Feyre looked through her closet for something to wear-

All of the dresses were far too complex for her to put on herself. They required lacing in the back, both for the corset and the dress. She shuffled through everything, and happened across a few skirts and matching shirts- perfect. Feyre pulled out a pale pink set and quickly stripped herself of her nightgown and slid them on. The fabric was soft and flowy, and the skirt ended at her knees. The shirt had long sleeves that billowed slightly around her arm before coming in to a cuff at her wrists, and buttoned up the front.

How had she never worn this in the past year here?

Feyre knew the answer. She was rarely allowed to dress herself, let alone wake up on her own and not by the bustling of maids entering her room and prepping her for the day. She shook her head. She was allowed to today. Thank the Mother, Feyre didn’t think she could stand to be near Ianthe this early after such a horrible day and night yesterday.

Feyre made her way to the door, before she remembered to grab a pair of slippers to protect her feet. She opened the door, and found Lucien leaning against the wall opposite it. “Ready?” Feyre nodded. “Let’s go then, dear Feyre.” She took his extended arm gratefully, happy to have a calm, kind alpha near her to put her omega at ease. They walked slowly down the halls, as Feyre was still feeling exhausted from her heat and subsequent fight with her alpha.

Soon, they hit the front doors of the manor, the dining room only separated from them by the double glass doors. Feyre could hear the hum of Tamlin’s voice, Ianthe’s grating laughter. She tugged Lucien outside, not wanting to linger in case one of them decided to come to the door and drag her inside.

Lucien led her to a secluded spot in the garden, a table already set for their meal. Feyre was happy to note that there were no red roses in sight, something she was sure Lucien had planned for. Lucien pulled out a chair for Feyre, to which she shook her head but sat anyway.

“You know you don’t have to do that, I’m not lady, after all,” Feyre said as Lucien took his seat across from her.

“I know, Feyre, I just like to be nice and treat you as one,” he replied with a chuckle, and took the lids off of both of their plates. Feyre looked to hers, then at Lucien’s, and back to hers.

“Why do you get more bacon than me?”

Lucien snickered at her before he moved two more pieces of bacon to her plate from his, giving them an equal four each. “I didn’t plate the food, Feyre, otherwise I would have given you ten pieces, knowing how much you love bacon.”

Feyre’s plate was… sad, in her opinion. Two fried eggs, a slice of toast with a small amount of butter, the now four pieces of bacon, and a small bowl of fruit. She had forgotten how much smaller her portions were here, after being allowed to dish food out for herself as she liked. But at least Lucien was kind enough to sacrifice some of his bacon for her, that made a small smile on her face.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, though she could practically feel the questions rattling around in Lucien’s head. “Yes, Lucien?”

He sighed, setting his fork down. “Are you okay, Feyre?”

Feyre blinked at him. “I’m fine, Lucien. Pissed at Tamlin and exhausted, yes, but I’m fine. Why?”

Lucien’s eyes darted away from hers for a moment before meeting her blue orbs again. “You were very distressed when you came home, and I wanted to make sure that nothing…” he paused, searching for the right words. “If anything happened to you while you were away, Feyre, you can talk to me about it.”

Feyre stared at him. That’s what he was worried about? She couldn’t help but laugh at his suggestion. “Lucien, nothing bad happened to me in the Night Court, I promise you. Rhys was very proper once I went in to heat, he brought me here as soon as it started.” Lucien breathed a sigh of relief, and it was obvious to Feyre that this had been weighing heavily on him. “If he had had any ill intentions toward me, he could have kept me for the last day of the week that I owed him. But he didn’t, he brought me back here.” Feyre couldn’t help but defend Rhysand, he had been more attentive and caring to her in the five days she had been in his court than the entire last year in Spring. Lucien opened his mouth, but Feyre stopped him before he could disagree with her. “Lucien, I felt safe in his court. He and Mor were very kind to me, and never forced me to do anything while I was there.”

Lucien exhaled heavily, Feyre’s words not what he had been expecting. “I am glad that you were safe, Feyre. I do wish you weren’t bound to him, still. But it is good to hear that you are not in danger of being tortured.”

Feyre snorted. “The only torture I’ve been through is Rhys’s training, though even that was enjoyable.”

“Training?” Lucien asked warily.

“Yes…” Feyre paused, gauging his reaction. His mechanical eye was whirring, looking over Feyre’s form for any injuries. “He asked to help me train my mental shields and…”

“And?”

“And my magic,” Feyre added hesitantly.

“What magic, Feyre?” Lucien asked. “You haven’t shown any signs of magic over the past year, you know that.”

Feyre’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Yes I have, Lucien. Remember that god-awful dress Ianthe had tried to force me into? The one with red roses stitched all over the skirt of the dress?” Lucien nodded his head the memory coming back to him. “I set it on fire.”

“No, we decided that it had caught fire on the candle nearby, Feyre,” Lucien said as he shook his head.

“Lucien. It was me. The candle was several feet away from the dress. And the first signs of magic normally come in the beginning stages of life then fade, right?” He nodded his head again, confusion in his eyes. “And I was able to conjure wind in the Night Court after practicing, Lucien. Rhys thinks that I am close to my first magical expansion in my body, and that my magic is growing in at an accelerated pace after being Made.”

Lucien looked off to the side, deep in thought for a minute. “If that’s true, Feyre, then you do need training, and as much as possible. Uncontrolled magic is dangerous, especially once an expansion hits the body…” he trailed off.

“Will you talk to Tamlin about it? I would like to train when I’m home, as well. With Tamlin, if he’s willing,” Feyre asked cautiously. The last time she had asked to train in any way, Tamlin had exploded in anger, insisting that Feyre would never need to train, would never be in danger again.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, Feyre… You remember how he was when you asked to learn to use a sword.”

“But that was a year ago, Lucien! Things have changed now, Rhys told me that Hybern is planning to go to war against Prythian. I should be training, you even said so!”

Lucien sighed. “Alright, Feyre. I’ll talk to him about it. But I can’t promise anything.”

Feyre breathed out, relieved that she had convinced him to try. “Thank you, Lucien.” He gave her a soft smile, one that she returned. “So… how many days was I in heat?”

“Nine days, Feyre.”

Nine? “What? But they’ve never lasted more than a week…”

“Tamlin was… well, he wasn’t in much of a state to help you, after you returned,” Lucien said cautiously, and his words lit a fire in Feyre’s chest. “You were crying out for your alpha, even when… even when Tamlin was holding you.” Heat moved to Feyre’s ears- had she really, truly been acting like an omega whore, just like Tamlin said? “It’s not your fault, Feyre, you were covered in Rhysand’s scent, and without Tamlin’s mark, well, most omegas normally latch on to the alpha they see when they first go into heat,” he added when he saw Feyre’s face fall.

“But- I don’t understand, why wouldn’t Tam help me?” Tears formed in her eyes, another layer of shame covering her.

“Tamlin was enraged that you had been near Rhysand in that state at all, he… he destroyed his study over the first few days.”

“But did he even stop to think about how much pain I was in? He stayed away long enough that my heat extended, Lucien!”

“He came to you in the end, Feyre. He’s trying, there’s just been a lot to adjust to in the past two weeks.” Feyre tried to let her anger go, she did. She knew that her leaving during their wedding ceremony would have consequences, just not to the degree that Tamlin would ignore her during her heat…

“I can’t… I can’t forgive him for that, Lucien. None of this was my choice, I should not be punished for a bargain that saved my life.”

“I know, Feyre, I know. Please, just give him a bit of time. The two of you can cool down and talk about this when you’re ready.” Feyre nodded her head in agreement after a moment. She would be giving him a wide berth for the next few days- she didn’t think she could see him and not hear the words he spat at her yesterday. Lucien breathed a sigh of relief, happy to have gotten Feyre to agree. “So, besides the training, how was the rest of your time?” Lucien asked curiously.

“Well… I started drawing again… the view from my bedroom was so magnificent, I couldn’t help but start again,” Feyre said softly, thinking about the many sunrises and sunsets she had seen over that beautiful mountain range.

“Feyre, that’s amazing!” Lucien congratulated, taking one of her hands in his. “So you were truly comfortable there?”

Feyre nodded her head. “Yes, it was a nice experience, actually. Which did surprise me. But Mor, she brought me some catalogs to shop from if I wanted, and…” Feyre paused, not sure if she was willing to share the information, but she was excited enough that she couldn’t stop. “They let me pick out whatever I wanted for my nest, and it turned out… I had never realized that I was supposed to feel completely relaxed in my nest, fully safe. But when I made one there… it was perfect,” Feyre gushed, remembering the soft feel of fabrics between her fingers, the beautiful colors surrounding her bed. When she finally looked at Lucien’s face again, his eyes had softened significantly.

“I’m happy for you, Feyre. It’s beautiful when an omega finally creates their perfect nest for themselves. Is that why you fought with Tamlin…?” He asked cautiously, and Feyre sighed again.

“Partially. I feel like my needs as an omega have been… pushed aside, deemed less important. And I feel like, if I don’t get them met soon, that…” she stopped mid sentence, unable to finish her thought.

“That you’ll collapse in on yourself?” Lucien offered, and Feyre nodded in agreement.

“Exactly. I’m still not fully used to having all of these new urges and desires, and I’ve been relying on all of you to tell me what I need. But in the Night Court… they actually offered it to me, put my omega at ease. Do you know where I’m coming from?” Feyre asked Lucien, tears building in her eyes.

“I do, Feyre, I do. I’ll talk to Tamlin about it, try to get through to him for you. You don’t deserve to be miserable in your new designation. And I’m sorry, that we didn’t help you before,” Lucien said softly, rubbing slow, soothing circles on the back of her hand.

“Thank you, Lucien. I just want to feel safe, cared for-”

“Hello, you two,” came a cheery voice from behind Feyre, but dread filled her stomach as she turned to look at the intruder. Ianthe, dressed in her priestess robes as usual. “I came to grab Feyre from you, we have a lot of preparations to get through for the new ceremony,” Ianthe said, extending a hand for Feyre to take.

Feyre stayed seated, unwilling to follow the alpha anywhere. After all, she was the reason the first ceremony was interrupted.

“Feyre, get up right now,” the alpha commanded harshly, and Feyre’s body followed the order instantly, much to her dismay. “Good girl, now come with me.” Feyre placed her hand on Ianthe’s arm and let the alpha lead her back into the manor, away from the kind aura of Lucien. “We need to get you measured for a new gown, I’m sure those heathens in the Night Court ripped it shreds and burned it,” Ianthe spat, dragging Feyre into sitting room where she had spent the majority of her time over the past year.

Ianthe clicked her tongue and a maid entered, measuring tape and full length mirror in hand.

“Do we really need to take new measurements?” Feyre asked. “I’m sure that I am the same size as I was a week ago, Ianthe.”

Ianthe sucked in breath. “I’m not so sure about that, Feyre. How much did food did you shovel into your face?” She asked, a venomous edge to her words. She guided Feyre in front of the mirror and stripped her of her clothes. “See that?” Ianthe asked as she pinched the skin covering Feyre’s stomach. “That’s fat, you silly little omega. You had to have eaten your weight in food there, Feyre.” She gave her a sickeningly sweet smile before pinching the skin on her thighs as well. “Next time, omega, show some restrain, hmm?”

Ianthe snapped her fingers, and maid came over to Feyre and began measuring every part of her body. Ianthe would huff after one, telling Feyre how much she had grown in each area. By the end of it, Feyre was holding back her tears, and could barely look at her reflection in the mirror.

She had thought her body was finally taking shape how it should have over the past year- but she was wrong. Feyre could hardly stand to see the fat hanging off of her, every movement causing it to jiggle slightly.

When Ianthe finally handed Feyre her clothes back, she put them on as quickly as she could, wishing for once that she was hidden beneath one of the ridiculously poofy dresses Ianthe liked to clothe her in.

Ianthe led her to the couches, where a tray of tea was waiting for them, kept warm in the enchanted teacups that Ianthe favored. She encouraged her to drink, so Feyre did, if only to keep the peace. Yea with Ianthe normally ended with Feyre being dreadfully tired, normally retiring to her room for a few hours of napping until dinner.

Ianthe waited for Feyre to finish her entire teacup, and then poured her another from the pot before speaking.

“Now that the… disappointment is over, Feyre, we can begin to work on the theming for the wedding. Again,” Ianthe added, anger lacing her tone. “The ceremony will be in four months. I believe that a lovely, tradition Spring Court wedding is still the way to go, what about you, Feyre?”

Feyre knew it was a trap, knew that anything beyond what Ianthe suggested would simply not do. But she couldn’t help it.

“Could we theme it to the season we’re in? We would be in Winter, by the time four months pass.” A winter wedding would be lovely, Feyre thought. She could almost see it, trees covered in glistening white snow, snow falling over a beautiful wooden archway as she walked down the aisle to Tamlin, using the season that almost killed her to bring to life the beautiful promise of forever that they would make to each other.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Feyre. Tamlin is the High Lord of Spring, he cannot have a Winter wedding.” Ianthe shook her head at Feyre, eyes narrowing heatedly at her. “Spring it is. Any requests for flowers? Roses, of course, will be included, it would be a waste to not include the former Lady’s lovely rose gardens after all.”

“Anything but red-”

“Feyre. It is foolish to ban a color such as red from a Spring wedding that includes roses!” Ianthe hissed at her, her scenting flooding with anger.

But Feyre was angrier. “I do not care, Ianthe, I will not have another panic attack at my own wedding!” Feyre screeched at her, nearly ready to rip her claws into Ianthe’s stupidly pretty face. “This is my wedding as well as Tamlin’s, you would be best to remember that.” Feyre had a growl building in her throat, until she locked eyes with the now fuming alpha.

“And you, Feyre, would be best to remember that you are lucky that Tamlin still wishes to marry you, after the stunt you pulled two weeks ago. And running away with another alpha, at that! Omega whore is right,” Ianthe spat at Feyre before standing from her chair and sweeping out of the room dramatically.

As soon as Feyre could no longer hear her footsteps, she made her way to her room as quickly as she could, choking back tears the entire way.

She reached her door, opening quickly and shutting it softly behind her before sliding down it, tears flowing from her eyes.

Too much, all of this is too much.

Feyre crawled to the bed, hoisting herself onto the mattress after a few tries. She curled up underneath the sheet, holding her legs to her chest as she slowly cried herself to sleep, sunshine still pouring through the windows of her bedroom.

Series Taglist: @icey--stars @homeslices

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nevermorgue · 2 months ago

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Hayley! I hope you're well! I come into your inbox to ask about your thoughts and opinions on each spectre, and your favorite ones! Love your blog! :D

HIIII!! I’m so fantastic thank YOU for coming in here. I love your art and your rambles.

My favorite spectres currently are Will’s and Duke’s. But I really love them all. I’ll go into the opinions now

Annabel’s Lady in White - I think she’s beautiful. I love her abilities and the whole bride thing she has going on. I at first wished her dress was more detailed but it’s fine to grow on me. I love the petals, and the hole in her chest is agonizing. Such a pretty spectre. kiss of death is just sooooo. idk her abilities are definitely one of my top favorites.

Morella’s Guardian Spirit - Plain-ish compared to the others, but still fantastic. I feel like her and Annabel are slept on because of how early they were revealed. I love how long her hair gets and the whole celtic vibe. and that she’s mainly defense with the healing and stuff! it’s very unique and it says sooo much about her past. if it were me i’d make her look a little less human wirh maybe more glowing or something but she’s still fabulous :)

Pluto’s Cryptid - im so so so interested in this because apparently domesticated cryptids are super rare? I wanna know more about the other cryptids poppet mentioned so badly. its so fucked that he has a collar too!!! he wanted to escape society but even in death it's like he's bound by the neck. I'm dying for info on that dumb coat too. He's so silly looking. I really wanna see his other abilities. I'll have a stronger opinion when that comes. Ada's Banshee

- I am dying to know what "Mark of the Grave" is so bad. And I love her confusing ass torso. Is she a shadow. is it a dress. I want to know. also LOVE how her limbs being detachable/having the stitch marks implies she was chopped up and buried like that. and her hat. thats a very "southern belle lady" sort of hat. she gets to be the lady she always wanted, just ugly and hideous!! love her and i love her spectre. "fear itself" is one of my favorite abilities and i hope she utilizes it more cough cough on will-

Prospero's Shadow Man - i am dying to know if he can take the mask off. imagine he's like. a sickly corpse looking kind of thing. like himself but rotting or weak as hell. i LOVE his abilities i just wish he had more detaaaailing. hes so cool and handsome though. i also think its super weird/cool how he has to activate his abilities with the stopwatch. i havent seen any other spectres have a "trigger point" like that. would he be rendered useless without it? Montresor's Dybbuk - nipple rings. sorry anyways - i love the chains. because it's not like he's using them, he's the one chained. and the whole. goat legs thing. bc goats are associated with the devil for some reason. I wonder why that is. idk i just love the whole demon thing. because he's been seen as such since like. his birth. and he cant even escape it in death. love it love his shit. his ability to force his way into peoples' memories is CRAZY too i cannot WAIT to see more of that. Eulalie's Chimera - SOOOO pretty. So aesthetically pleasing. I love how she can make stuff with her dreams!!! and the fact that its implied she can yank malevolent spectres back into their regular forms is soooo cool. and just the fact that she can neutralize other spectres in general is such a unique power. shes like defense similar to morella, just in a different way minus healing. i love her. i really dont dislike any spectre i just love them all. Berenice's Strigoi - I will forever be mad that her teeth count as an ability but WHATEVER. She's still badass. I can only imagine how it must feel to basically lose your hands. I'm really excited to see what "Bloodlust" as an ability does. like there are so many cool spectre abilities we havent seen in action yet. The bite that makes you drunk will forever be iconic too. I love her look and i love how her whole outfit is directly correlated to her time period. also love how like each mouth on her is like. its own being. she cant control it. Duke's Poltergeist - I need to like control myself because I will yap nonstop about this one. The NEONS the colors are just fantastic and I LOOOOVE HIS EYES. THE EYES. all of his abilities fuck so hard and i love how like. his "hypnosis" isnt really like full hypnosis its more like a very powerful suggestion? and he couldnt even figure out how to get ada out of it? like he didnt TELL her to use her ability on montresor, he just kinda planted the idea in her head. i also noticed that one of his abilities IS levitation despite us seeing other spectres float on multiple occasion. so the key difference here is the telekinesis portion of the power. just thought that was silly. love him. i love duke. he's my 2nd fave. Will's Doppelganger - i physically have to stop myself from writing a page's worth of bs here. He has DIRT IN HIS JOINTS. like he's DIRTY. like buried and forgotten!! and if he's dust bowl era like so many of us think, perhaps its that same dust. he was left buried in it...forgotten. unidentified. And and and he's SO OP. everyone IC is underestimating how he has one of the most powerful spectres. He was able to almost fool the misfits as duke, he honestly did a fantastic job. He has to memorize so much. like its genuinely impressive. and then his ribbons. notice how they wrap around HIM before/during use. like he's fucking tangled in in them too, not just his victims. i dont think he's ever been free. he's never not been wrapped up in someone else's shit. he's never been "william". i- i need to stop. hes the best. best spectre- and i pray that the characters realize how much POWER he really has.

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cnnmairoll · 1 year ago

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hello! i'm the anon that requested for the the moles' beloved miss hehe - just wanted to say that IT WAS ADORABLE AF <3 loved the domestic and homey feeling of the whole fic <33 read your other works and WOHHH I LOVE YOU AS I WRITER <3

if i may, may i request a hurt-comfort for dan heng and luka (separate hehe) ? like, they notice that their s.o, the reader, has become more distant towards them and their shared friend group (the express crew for dan heng, and maybe wildfire for luka). they check on the reader but they just get "i'm okay" as a response. one day, though, they get a letter from the reader, thinking it's the usual love letter that they give, but it's actually a letter of the reader expressing their feelings of being left out, not being enough, and all - kinda like "i know you guys accept me, but i find it hard to accept myself." happy ending ofc hehe

i'm so sorry that the prompt was so long whahsha have a great day/night, as always! <33

A Letter of Words I Can't Convey

Character(s) : Luka, Dan Heng Genre : Comfort, Fluff a/n : glad u liked the fic anon :thumbsup: here ya go

Luka had noticed the change in you for weeks now. It wasn't like you to withdraw from the wildfire, your close-knit group of friends that included Luka himself. At first, he thought it was just a phase, a rough patch, but as days turned into weeks, he grew increasingly worried. You had become distant, your smiles less frequent, and your laughter absent from their gatherings.

One evening, after practice at the underground boxing ring, Luka decided he couldn't ignore it any longer. He approached you cautiously, his robotic right arm glinting in the dim light of the gym. You were leaning against the wall, seemingly lost in thought. He cleared his throat, trying to hide his concern.

"Hey there," Luka began, his voice gentle. "You've been… different lately. Is everything okay?"

You glanced up at him, and for a moment, it seemed like you would open up. But instead, you managed a weak smile and replied, "I'm okay, Luka, really. Just going through some stuff, you know?"

He didn't want to push you, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to it. Luka nodded and patted your shoulder. "Alright, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me, right?"

You nodded, and that was the end of the conversation. Luka walked away, his heart heavy with worry, but he trusted you to reach out when you were ready.

Days turned into weeks, and your distance only seemed to grow. Luka missed your laughter, your warmth, and your presence in their group. He found himself lying awake at night, wondering what had changed between you two.

Then, one day, he received a letter. At first, he thought it was one of your usual love letters. You had a habit of slipping little notes and sweet messages into his jacket pocket. But as he unfolded the paper, his heart sank. It wasn't a love letter; it was a heartfelt confession of your feelings.

Luka,

I hope you're doing well. I know I've been distant lately, and I'm sorry for that. I want you to know that it's not because of anything you've done. It's me. I've been feeling like I don't belong, like I'm not enough for the wildfire. I know you all accept me, but I find it hard to accept myself. I've been struggling with these thoughts, and it's been tearing me apart.

I hope you can understand. I just needed to get this off my chest.

- [Your Name]

Reading your words, Luka's heart ached. He realized that he had been so focused on trying to make you open up that he had missed how much pain you were in. Without wasting another moment, he set out to find you.

It wasn't easy, but after asking around, he discovered you were at your favorite quiet spot in the park. He spotted you sitting alone on a bench, staring off into the distance. Luka took a deep breath, feeling a mix of emotions - concern, determination, and love.

Approaching you, he said softly, "Hey there, I got your letter."

You looked up in surprise, and there was a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes before you looked away. "Oh, I didn't expect you to find me so quickly."

Luka sat down beside you and gently turned your face to meet his gaze. "You're not alone in this, you know. We all care about you, and I care about you. Your feelings matter."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you finally let them fall. "I just… I feel like such a burden, Luka."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "You're not a burden. You're a part of our wildfire family, and we stick together through thick and thin. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

You clung to him, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Luka held you close, offering you a safe haven to release all the pent-up emotions you had been carrying. As the tears subsided, he whispered soothing words of comfort and reassurance.

"We all have our struggles, and it's okay to ask for help," Luka said softly. "You don't have to go through this alone. We're here to support you, and we'll get through this together."

In that moment, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and a glimmer of hope flickered within you. Luka's unwavering support and understanding gave you the strength to face your inner demons. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but with him by your side and the wildfire behind you, you had a fighting chance.

As the sun began to set, you and Luka remained on that bench, talking and sharing your deepest fears and insecurities. It was the first step toward healing, and together, you would overcome the darkness that had threatened to engulf you. In Luka's embrace, you found solace and the reassurance that you were, indeed, enough.

It had been weeks since you'd last spent quality time with Dan Heng and the rest of the Astral Express crew. Something had shifted, something you couldn't quite put your finger on, and it left you feeling distant, isolated, and overwhelmed by a constant sense of inadequacy. Your once lively presence within the group had turned into an invisible shadow, always there but seldom noticed.

Dan Heng had noticed the change in your behavior, how you'd become distant from the Astral Express crew, including him. He had always respected your privacy and your need for space, but this was different. It was as if you were slowly retreating into your own world, leaving him feeling helpless and concerned.

One evening, as the crew gathered in the common area for their usual card game, Dan Heng noticed your absence once again. He sighed, unable to ignore the growing concern that gnawed at him. With a subtle glance toward the others, he excused himself and made his way to your cabin.

His knock on your door was soft, almost hesitant. He waited for a moment, and just as he was about to turn away, the door cracked open, revealing your face, tinged with surprise. You'd clearly not expected him.

"Dan Heng," you greeted, your voice a shadow of its former warmth.

"May I come in?" he asked, his blue eyes searching your face for answers.

You hesitated but then stepped aside, allowing him to enter your dimly lit cabin. It was a small, cozy space, filled with books and trinkets from your travels. He admired it briefly before focusing on you.

You looked down, avoiding his gaze. "What brings you here?"

Dan Heng took a deep breath, unsure of how to broach the subject. He knew he had to tread carefully. "I've noticed you've been distant lately. We all have. Is everything okay?"

You turned away, your fingers nervously fidgeting with a book on your shelf. "I'm okay. Really."

But he wasn't convinced. He knew there was something deeper bothering you. He couldn't bear to see you like this, shutting everyone out.

He couldn't stand the thought of you struggling alone, and yet, he understood that pushing you for answers wouldn't help. Instead, he decided to give you the time and space you seemed to need, hoping that you would come to him when you were ready.

Weeks passed, and every day felt like an eternity for Dan Heng. He missed the times when you were both alone, your conversations filled with laughter and affection. He yearned for those moments but was willing to wait for you to reach out.

Then, one day, it happened. A small envelope slid under his cabin door, catching his attention. He picked it up, expecting another one of the love letters you often left for him. But when he opened it, his heart sank as he read the words on the paper.

Dan Heng,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know that lately, I've been distant from the crew, and it's been hard for me to explain why. I've been struggling with some things, things I never thought I'd admit even to myself.

You see, despite all the love and acceptance I feel from all of you, I can't help but feel like I don't quite fit in, like I'm not good enough to be part of this incredible group. I know you guys accept me, but I find it incredibly difficult to accept myself.

I've been battling these feelings in silence, and I'm sorry for shutting you all out. It's not because I don't trust you or care about you—it's because I've been struggling to understand my own emotions.

I'm writing this letter because I needed you to know what's been going on inside my head, even if I'm not ready to talk about it in person just yet. I want you to know that I treasure the moments we've shared, and your presence means the world to me. But sometimes, I need to figure things out on my own, and I hope you can understand that.

Thank you for being patient with me, Dan Heng. You mean more to me than I can express in words.

- [Your Name]

Without a moment's hesitation, he left his cabin and made his way to yours. His knock on your door was gentle, a silent plea for you to open up to him. When you did, he saw the surprise in your eyes, but there was also a hint of relief, as if you had been waiting for him.

"Can I come in?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. He took a seat on your bed, and you followed suit. There was a moment of silence, neither of you knowing where to begin.

"I got your letter," he finally said, his tone gentle and understanding. "I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what. You don't have to go through this alone."

You met his gaze, your eyes reflecting a mix of emotions, from vulnerability to gratitude. "I… I didn't know how to talk about it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dan Heng reached out and took your hand in his, offering you a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to explain everything right now," he said. "But I want you to know that you are enough, just the way you are. We all care about you deeply, and I care about you deeply."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and this time, you didn't hold them back. You let them fall, letting go of the pent-up emotions that had been tormenting you for so long. Dan Heng pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close as you cried.

As the tears subsided, you found comfort in his presence, in the fact that he hadn't pushed you for answers but had simply been there for you when you needed him the most. He may not have all the solutions, but he had his unwavering support and affection to offer, and that was enough to start healing the wounds that had been plaguing your heart.

In the quiet of your cabin, beneath the soft glow of the astral stars outside your window, Dan Heng and you began a journey of rediscovery and healing. He continued to listen, to be there for you, and to assure you that you were valued and loved just as you were.

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