#and now I can’t even sleep because I’m so on edge and panicked | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sentientcave · 8 months ago

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Heavy Weighs the Crown

Here we go friends! These chapters just keep getting longer. A larger plot begins to reveal itself to me. I am having a lot of fun here and I hope you are too.

Chapter 3 - Reading Between the Lines

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Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Bad memories, A spot of magic, Voyeurism, Reader description kept pretty neutral but I kind of got slightly more specific about black hair care so you're just going to have to live with it.

~6k words

The next morning, it rains.

The pitter-patter of rain against your windows wakes you up, because it sounds wrong. There’s only one small window in your room in Kate’s house, and when weather blows in it’s the sound of water trickling down and dripping off the thatch roof that’s loudest, not the rain itself. Here the sound echoes strangely in the big space, and you wake with a start, disoriented, your heart-hammering in your chest.

It feels like your life in town is the dream, trickling away faster than you can cup your hands to hold onto it. You fly out of bed and wrap a blanket around your shoulders, dashing out into the hallway, bare feet cold on the stone floor. The king’s bedroom is directly across the hall from your own, and you stare at the door, frozen and unsure if you’re willing to risk knocking, breath caught in your throat, chest tight, anxiety squeezing your ribs until they ache.

You’re sixteen and twenty-six both, living two lives out in one panicking body. You no longer belong here and you’ve never been anywhere else. Your father is alive, angry, terrifying, and he’s dead and buried where he can’t hurt you anymore. You are a tossed coin landed on it’s edge, waiting to fall.

The door in front of you opens, and you leap back on instinct, but breathe a sigh of relief when it’s John standing there, looking at you with surprise first, and then concern. “Sweetpea?” he asks, stepping forward to meet you, but leaving space between your bodies, like he knows that it would be worse for him to touch you right now. “What’s wrong?”

You press your shaking fingers to your mouth, holding back a sob. You swallow it down, pulling yourself together enough to speak. “I thought it was a dream,” you say at last. “I thought he was still alive.”

There’s no question who you mean. John reaches a hand out, an offering, and you take it, clinging to him like a life-line. He reels you into his arms, and you lean in, the solid, warm bulk of him as reliable and real as the earth below. “He’s not,” he says firmly. “I put him in the ground myself. You’re safe.”

You nod against his chest, feeling small and silly now. “I’m sorry,” you say, although you’re not sure what you’re sorry for. For showing weakness, maybe, for being lost in your own memory, for needing reassurance.

“It’s early yet,” he murmurs against the top of your head. “You should try to sleep a little longer.”

You’re not sure you could even if you tried, and even though you’re still tired, the adrenaline leaving your body cold, fatigue dragging at your bones insistently. You could maybe sleep against John’s chest, holding onto him, his heartbeat steady and strong enough in your ear to drown out the still-frenetic tempo of your own. “I think I’ll just get dressed,” you say, pushing away. He drops his arms instantly, letting you put a little distance between you.

He shakes his head, smiling at you fondly, eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Sweetpea, the sun hasn’t even risen. Go back to bed. I know just the thing to help. Go on.” He turns you toward your door and nudges you along.

There’s no point in arguing with him— You are tired, and although you suspect sleep will be beyond your reach, it’s cold in the hallway, especially now that you’re no longer pressed against John’s warm chest, and your bed is still warm when you climb back in.

Darkness presses down on you, heavy as grave-dirt, and you lay there, staring at the ceiling. You touch the crystal lamp next to your bed to light up the room, but that’s no better, really.

John knocks, but doesn’t wait for your answer before coming in, a dark wolf with blue eyes trotting in on his heels. “Go on, Soap,” he says, and Soap hops up onto your bed and lays down half on top of you, his head on your shoulder, tail wagging. John pats him on the head like he’s just a dog. “He’ll keep an eye on you.”

It should probably feel weird to cuddle up with a werewolf, since he’s really a man, and you’ll have to face that silly, crooked grin in the morning, but you need someone to cling to, and you’re to proud and cautious to cling to John. “Thank you,” is all you have it in you to say.

“He gets nightmares too. Usually sleeps across someone’s bed. I’m sure he’d be happy to stay with you while you’re here.” John says it simply, without a drop of judgment or condescension, and scratches behind Soap’s ear. “He’s a real good listener when he can’t talk back too.” He withdraws, tapping the light and throwing the room into darkness again.

You don’t even hear the door click shut. You bury your face into the thick fur around Soap’s neck and fall asleep almost instantly.

When you wake up again, it's with a very large, very naked man on top of you.

You yelp, scrambling back on your pillows. Johnny’s eyes snap open at your first movement, on high alert before he’s all the way awake. He scrambles too, and falls right off the side of the bed with a solid thud.

"Oh! Johnny I'm so sorry," you look down at him from the edge of the mattress, trying not to laugh. "I forgot you were here."

"It's alright, lass. I didna mean to startle ye. Ah shift back overnight sometimes. Price didnae remember to warn ye." He sits up and leans against the bed, forearms folded over each other. He looks no worse for wear, and like he slept as solidly as you did, those last few hours. There’s a faint imprint of lace from your nightgown on his face, and half of his hair is stuck straight up, the rest pressed flat. "Are ye feelin' better?"

“I am. Thank you for staying with me.”

“S’nothin’ really. Nicer sleepin’ with you than Gaz, he kicks awl night long. An’ Nox doesnae like me none, so I cannae stay with Ghost.” He grins. “Price lets me stay but he makes me sleep at the foot of the bed like a dog. Sometimes a man wants a cuddle, ye ken?”

You giggle. “I ken.”

"Really livin' up to yer name, aye Sweetpea?"

You laugh again. "Johnny, you know that's not my name, right?"

"No? What is it?" He shakes his head when you tell him. "I like Sweetpea better. Suits ye."

"Me too," you tell him. It has no connections to your previous life. It just reminds you of the pretty pink, purple, and white flowers that grow on delicate, curling vines that you like to grow over the side of the chicken coop.

There's a knock on the door, and Johnny leaps up to see who it is. You have to hold your hand up quickly to avoid getting an eyeful of things you're not supposed to see. He's absolutely shameless-- you suspect he wouldn't think twice about strolling down the hallways without a scrap on. You have a curiousity about men's bodies that you're too bashful to indulge, even if you're pretty sure that Johnny would stand still and let you look as long as you liked. Well, maybe not stand still. But you doubt he would mind.

It's Ghost at the door. He doesn't wait for an invitation to come in, but he has clothes for Johnny hung over his arm, so you don't mind. Honestly, you can bear a few overzealous men who feel entitled to your space for a few days, because after that you'll get to go home and get back to your life.

Ghost positions himself between you and Johnny, just as he had yesterday. "Price said you 'ad a bit of an episode earlier. You olright?"

"Just fine," you say brightly. "No need to worry."

"Och, let him worry, hen. He likes ta do it."

"I'm really fine," you insist.

"You want to visit the mausoleum? Might make it feel more real."

You'd be more interested in going there to visit your mother's grave, if you're going at all, but you think that you'll wait for a sunnier day. A gray, dreary morning like the one outside your windows is no balm for dark memories or old wounds. Sunshine might be. "Not today," you say. "Maybe tomorrow." You get out of bed as gracefully as possible, well aware that you have an audience. "Perhaps the two of you could step outside for a moment while I get dressed?"

Ghost glances behind him, checking to see if Soap is covered up enough for him to move, and then walks over to your closet and pulls out a screen that you hadn't noticed sitting in the corner there, and sets it up. "There you go, Sweetpea. You'll need help with all your fastenin's anyway, won't you?"

You imagine that he's smiling under the mask, more than a little smug about it, but you let it slide. "Very thoughtful."

"Try to be."

The blank face of his mask gives you nothing when you glance over, aside from that he’s looking back. It’s not the first time that you’ve wished for more insight into what he’s thinking, but there’s a gravity to his attention that you swear was never there before, and it prickles at the back of your neck even after you duck out of sight.

You choose a sunny yellow dress today, to counter the deluge outside, and remove the silk scarf wrapped around your head so you can twist your braids on each side from your brow back to the nape of your neck, pinning the lengths into a knot. You’ll have to redo them soon, but without Kate and her wife to help you, you know it’ll take hours, if not most of a day.

You walk over to where Ghost is sitting and turn your back to him so he can button it up for you. He hands you his gloves to hold while he does so, and you run your hands over the detail of white leather bones stitched on over the well-worn black leather, decoration and extra protection both. Idly, you slip one on, but your hands are so small in comparison to his that you have to stretch your hand out just to get your fingers arranged inside it properly. He stands behind you, and leans over you to gently pull them from your hands, as though to underline again how much bigger he is than you are.

The top of your head brushes his chest when you tip your head back to look at him. “Thank you,” you say.

“I’m always ‘appy to ‘elp,” he says. “I’m with you for the mornin’ anyway. Might as well make myself useful, eh?”

“Stuck minding me?” you tease, sweeping around to fold back the sheets on your bed, only to find that one of them had already done it. Ghost, most likely, judging by how neat it is. You touch his arm lightly in silent thanks, and the three of you leave your room together.

Other than insisting you eat breakfast (served in a communal dining hall, where they insist on bringing things to you rather than let you suffer the indignity of standing in a line, and watch you eat with unnerving intensity), they’re content to follow you around as you refamiliarize yourself with the castle, mapping out changes so you don’t get turned about looking for anything. You find a number of familiar faces here and there, and have an perplexingly similar conversation with anyone you know, where they welcome you back cheerfully, and grow a bit quiet and nervous when you insist that you won’t be staying long, and when you try to press them on that, you’re ushered out, told they’re too busy to chat, and that you’ll find time to catch up later.

You suspect that Ghost and Johnny are the source of their nerves, but both of them always seem to be a few paces out of (human) earshot, and minding their own business, talking about something else quietly between them.

"Where's Kyle?" you ask as you're hustled out of the the healer's work shop and back out into the hallway. It’s become abundantly clear, no matter how well they feign innocence, that your hulking shadows are making the staff nervous, and you decide not to subject anyone else to their company. If you can slip away from them later, you might be able to have an actual conversation.

“Prob’ly ‘oled up in ‘is workshop,” Ghost says. “Some weeks we ‘ardly see ‘im.”

“Wizardy shite,” Johnny adds, his tone disapproving. “As if there aren’t a thousand ways ta blow shite intae bits withoot wigglin’ yer fingers. Can blow up flour, did ye know, Sweetpea? In barrels isnae much different than black powder.”

“Still useful to have a little magic,” you say, flipping your palm over and conjuring a flame in the centre of it. It’s one of the few spells in your cache, and you’ve mostly just used it to light candles and the stove. Your lessons barely dipped beyond simple control— You’d been told that magic was no proper pastime for a lady. When you think back on it now, you think it’s more that your father never wanted you to have defenses that he could not control, or that could be used against him. A grim thought, from this side of things.

“Forgot you ‘ave a little magic in you.” Ghost holds his hands above yours, feeling the heat coming off the small flame. “Come on, pet. Let’s find Kyle. Might be enough to pull ‘is nose out of ‘is books.”

You close your hand, extinguishing the flame, and let them guide you through a few corridors and up a spiraling stone staircase.

Johnny hesitates at the door, nose wrinkling at the slight, hard to identify smell of complex magical wards that are carved neatly into the doors. You can feel the slight hum of it in your teeth. Ghost pushes the door open without knocking (you think all four of these men might be allergic to knocking), and steps inside.

You follow, and stop right there in the doorway while Ghost ventures in further. Kyle is shirtless, doing pushups over a heavy looking book. He doesn't look up, doesn't even stop when he turns the page, just continues the exercise one handed. He's in perfect shape, every muscle well-defined, putting even some of the finely-carved marble statues you've seen to shame. He has a frame for wiry muscle, but he's worked so hard that he's gotten bulky too, and although he's not as broad as Soap or as big as Ghost, it's clear that he's stronger than most men. Certainly stronger than men of his occupation have any need to be.

"What do you want, Ghost?" Kyle asks, still focused on his reading. "I'm busy, you know."

"Brought our girl by to see you, and you don't even bother lookin' up."

Kyle’s attention does snap up at that, brown eyes sliding past Ghost’s legs to you, still hovering in the doorway, Johnny a step behind, peering over your shoulder. Kyle scrambles to his feet, sending the book flying with a gesture. It settles on the desk behind him as he steps around Ghost, dusting his hands against his trousers before he takes yours, pulling you more fully into the space. His skin gleams with a thin sheen of sweat, but he's not the least bit out of breath. “Come on in, Sweetpea. Did you come all the way up here just to see me?”

“Of course,” you say. It’s a silly question, although now that you look around the space, you’re gripped by curiousity. The circular room is lined with bookshelves, each full of thick, leather and linen-bound tomes that hum with power. The whole room sings like a chorus, the sound not in your ears, but tickling the back of your mind instead. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to. I don’t want to interrupt, of course, if you’re working on something.” Although, now that you're looking, it seems like he’s working on many things, all at once. He has a carousel of research tomes open next to the desk, and neatly written pages laid out over the desk to dry, a stack of opened and unopened correspondence in a basket hanging from the side, ingredients measured out by a shelf full of bottles and jars of strange and familiar ingredients, and there are unlit candles set around the perimeter of an open area on the floor, a circle of iridescent tile set into the stone, pale and glittering.

“Nothing important this moment. Just studying while I wait for ink to dry. The mind grows dull if you don’t take the time to keep it sharp.” He glances at Johnny meaningfully, and receives a rude gesture in response.

“There’s more’n just books if ye want to keep sharp,” Johnny says, his voice flinty. “Isnae the only way to learn, ye know.”

You glance at Ghost. His mask looks back at you, blank as ever. “There’s a place for books, and a place for practical application,” you say diplomatically. “Wisdom can be found in many places.”

“In a pretty girl, for one,” Ghost says approvingly. “Would be good for you to crack a book once in a while, Soap. And for you to spend a little less time ‘oled up in ‘ere.” His head turns toward Kyle.

“I have a lot to do, you know,” Kyle says. “I can’t just shove everything to the side whenever I please.”

You drift closer to the desk, peeking at the tome he was referencing earlier, the pages opened to a chapter on illusion spells. Curious, you glance to his notes, humming with interest at the first page you glance at. It’s something about setting spells of illusion into fabric, weaving magic into the very stitches. “Are you trying to make a cloak of shadows?” you ask, picking up the page carefully by the edges, still mindful of the mostly dried ink.

Kyle looks over at you and smiles, but it’s all teeth. “Something like that. I didn’t know you were interested in magical theory.”

“She’s got a little sorcery in ‘er,” Ghost explains. “Maybe you should give ‘er a lesson or two. While she’s ‘ere.”

Your ears perk up at that, and you drop the paper back to the desk, forgetting it entirely. “Would you?” you ask excitedly. “I really would love to learn more.”

Kyle slips his shirt back on and beckons you over to one of the bookcases, smile turning sly and conspiratorial. “Can you give me a hand Sweetpea? I need something off the top shelf.”

You look up at the top shelf, which is well out of your reach. “Kyle, I think maybe you should ask Ghost.”

“Sorry, pet, I’m busy keepin’ Soap from pilferin’ alchemical ingredients.”

"Wasnae pilferin'! Just takin' a wee looksie. Isnae a crime."

"Soap," Kyle says pleasantly. "If I find anything missing we are going to have a long talk about it." He shakes his head lightly, sweet brown eyes finding yours, amused.

"D'ye think he means a good rough fuck?" Johnny asks Ghost, not quite quiet enough for you not to hear it. "Or an actual chat? Because that's goan ta change what I do here."

"I really don't think I can help," you say to Kyle, ignoring Johnny's query as much as you can. "Unless you'd like me to climb the shelves."

"Here." He crouches down in front of you and hugs your knees to his chest, other hand a higher on the backs of your thighs to hold you steady, and pops up. You let out a little shriek, and press your hands against his strong shoulders for support. "Don't worry, Sweetpea, I've got you. Now, can you grab that slim blue volume to the right? The one with no title on the spine."

Scanning the neat row of books, you locate the one he means and pick it up. "Ive got it," you inform him, laughing. "Now please put me down."

He slides you down his front carefully, adjusting his grip, your skirts bunching up and exposing your stockinged calves, and he holds you just above him for a moment. You loop your arms around his neck reflexively, holding the book behind him. He looks up at you, so dazzlingly handsome, you're almost surprised that he's real.

"Kyle," you remind him gently. "Please put me down."

“You sure?” he asks, bringing you down just a little more, so that your face is just above his own. “You look a bit tired today, princess. Could just carry you around for the rest of the day if you like.”

“That will not be necessary,” you say firmly. “But it’s a very kind offer.”

You hear a snort from the other side of the room, but you’re not sure if it comes from Ghost or Johnny. “Nothin’ kind about it,” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “Bastard just likes the idea of bein’ pressed up against ye all day.”

“You slept in her bed last night,” Kyle reminds him. “There’s no need to be jealous.”

“Ahm no’ jealous! Yer just bein’ a fandan charmer tryna cop a wee feel, an’ ye willnae admit ta it.”

You look over at Ghost, and he shakes his head. You imagine that he’s rolling his eyes, just as exasperated by the two of them as you are. He comes to your rescue though, carefully pulling you out of Kyle’s arms and setting you back down on the floor. “Thank you, Ghost,” you say archly, shaking your crumpled skirts out with one hand.

“Sorry, Sweetpea,” Kyle says, and you can’t help but note that he certainly doesn’t sound sorry. “If you read the first chapter of this tonight, we can do a lesson in the morning. This will probably be a step up from whatever paltry lessons the old wizard gave you— I know he took offence to the idea of training you at all, the closed-minded old bastard. If you have any questions, make notes, and we can go over it.” He taps the top of the book you hold. “You can write in it, if you like. I’ve scribbled in the margins a few times myself.”

You tuck the book into your pocket. “Thank you, Kyle. I appreciate that.”

“Anything for you, Sweetpea.”

You hesitate, a bit nervous to ask a favour when he’s already agreed to take time out of his day to give you a lesson in something you’re not sure you have enough talent in to warrant. He’s cleary a busy person, and you don’t want to waste his time.

Kyle senses your hesitation, and reaches for your hand, squeezing reassuringly. “Anything,” he repeats, brown eyes oh-so earnest.

Your ears feel hot. Flirting comes as easily to him as breathing, and even though you’re sure he means little by it, by his relationship with Johnny and the claim that John has laid on you, it’s hard not to grow flustered when he directs the full force of that sunshine smile at you. “Did you ever, um, help your sisters with their hair? I’d like to have a bath this afternoon, and wash my hair, but it’ll take me ages to rebraid it alone. I would really appreciate an extra set of hands if you have a spare minute tomorrow.”

He grins at that, pleased to be able to help you with something that Ghost and Johnny are ill-equipped to. The scar on his cheek dimples slightly when he smiles this hard, the slight flaw in his complexion more a dashing accessory to his charm than any detractor. “Would be happy to help. Do you have everything else you need? Oil? Curl cream?”

You hadn’t thought to check what was in the cupboard in the bathroom. “I’m not sure,” you admit.

“I have some. I’ll bring them by your room later this afternoon, just in case.”

Ghost offers to walk you back to your room, leaving Johnny behind to discuss something with Kyle, although as soon as the door closes, you hear a crash and a series of colourful swear words. You glance behind you as Ghost ushers you down the stairs. “Should we—”

“No. Trust me, Sweetpea. They’re just fine, and not doin’ anything you want to see.”

“Oh.” The implication warms you from the tips of your ears to somewhere in your belly.

“You’ve got the lads all worked up,” Ghost adds, as though you needed more context. “Competin’ with each other to get a smile out of you. Let ‘em blow off a little steam.”

“I don’t understand why they’re so concerned with me, if they have each other,” you say, trailing one hand over the wall, feeling the bumps of cool stone and seams between the cut blocks as you descend. “And John has made no secret of his intentions.”

He touches your arm to halt you, and moves past, taking a few extra steps so he stands below you, the near-hidden gleam of his eyes on level with yours. The two of you are alone here, where the curve of the stairs create a private universe, a pocket of stone and crystal light casting meagre shadow. "What are your intentions?" He asks. "Are you goin' to just let 'im take what 'e pleases?"

"I intend to go home," you say. "I won't be staying."

"Olright, maybe you do go 'ome. And what'f Kyle or Johnny came sniffin' round to court you themselves?"

"They won't."

"Why wun't they? You're a ray of sunshine sweet girl. You're the only one that don't see it."

"Ghost--"

"No, hush up for a moment, princess. You've got the wrong idea. I personally threatened every man that so much as looked your way. For years. Din't think about 'ow that'd make you feel. You're beautiful. Enough to chase, enough to go to bloody war for." His body is still, save for the slightest twitch of his fingers. “I don’t know why you can’t see it. You make us all crazy.”

The surety that John would really let you go slips as Ghost speaks, something fundamental about your footing in the world shifting uneasily beneath you. You had found comfort in the idea that you were quotidian, unremarkable. That the crown alone was aggrandizing, and you could pass unnoticed without it. Now you wonder if you’ve ever gone unnoticed, or if it was just that you had been too obtuse to see. “It doesn’t matter,” you insist. It’s easier to reject what he says outright, even if Ghost has never lied to you, never given you a reason to doubt his words. The ground settles. “I will be going home in a few days, and once John has my official endorsement none of you will have to keep an eye on me again.”

“You won’t rid yourself of me that easily,” he says firmly. “Keepin’ you safe’s one of the only jobs that I do that’s worth doin’. I promised your mum I would, an’ I don’t intend to break my oath just because you don’t think you’re worth it.”

“My mother asked you to?” You had always thought Ghost’s orders had come from your father, setting the quiet, faceless, black-clad knight on your heels, as close as a shadow, only leaving your side when the king sent him off to fight, somewhere far and away. “Why?”

“Figured she could tell I ‘aven’t got an ounce of ambition in me. Used to, before I came ‘ere. Didn’t do me any good. Can’t trust my own head, sometimes. But if I can trust what’s ‘ere—” He puts his hand to his chest, head tipped slightly to the side. “— Then I know I can trust what’s in there.” He lifts his hand and taps his finger against your forehead lightly.

You blink at him, surprised by how much he’s said all at once. Abruptly, he turns around and continues down the stairs, finished the conversation. You spur yourself back into motion, sweeping your skirts up with one hand so you don’t trip. There’s no doubt that you could trust Ghost to catch you, but the risk of sending you both tumbling down the long spiral staircase has you moving cautiously.

He stays with you for a bit, offering help unbraiding your hair and unbuttoning your dress, and leaves without protest when you ask him to. Predictably, he’s quiet the entire time, as though he used up his daily quota of words all at once in the stairway.

You lay out everything you need close to the tub, and sink into a hot bath, sighing. This is perhaps one of the few things you really did miss about castle life— Hot running water. If you wanted a hot bath in town, you would either have to go to the public bathhouse, or spend a good hour boiling enough water to fill a tub at Kate’s house.

You hum happily to yourself, which turns to singing out loud, the acoustics in the tiled room too good to resist. You sing your way through a number of folk songs as you run a cloth over your skin and scrub your hair clean, hot water and soap washing away what little of the darkness from that morning that company and distraction hadn’t banished, clinging shadows in the corners of your mind scoured clean again.

You pull the plug and let the water start to drain, and stand up, wringing your hair out before you reach over to the towel you’d set aside for yourself, bracing you hand on the side of the tub.

“What are you two muppets doing?” John’s voice coming through the cracked open door startles you. And it startles Johnny and Kyle too, because they tumble through the door onto the tiled floor, landing on top of each other in a heap.

You clutch the towel to your front, unable to keep yourself from letting out a surprised shriek. It takes a moment for surprise to give way to anger, your shocked, wide-eyed gaze traveling from Johnny’s red face to Kyle’s guilty expression to John in the doorway, a complicated mix of stony anger and surprise in his blue eyes. Both emotions fade as his attention lingers on your exposed legs, crawling up slowly.

“I came to drop off— But he was—” Kyle starts to try to explain himself.

“Dinnae try to blame tha’ on me, ye fuckin’ roaster, Ahm no’ a’ fault for what yer doin’,” Johnny cuts him off angrily, shoving Kyle off of him. “Yer no’ better than me just ‘cause ye weren’t here first.”

“I wouldn’t have—”

You level a glare at him that has his mouth shutting so fast that you can hear the click of his teeth. “Get out.”

The two of them scramble up and nearly fall over themselves trying to get out as quickly as possible, mortified to have been caught. They start sniping at each other before they’ve even gotten out of earshot.

John, however, doesn’t budge from the doorway. You direct your fury at him. “John. Get out.”

He doesn’t scramble to obey like the younger men did, as is he has any more right to be there than they did. “Sweetpea,” he says evenly, as though he expects to be able to talk you down from your very justified anger with a few measured words.

“Now,” you snap. “Before I lose my temper.”

He hesitates a moment longer, but the look on your face makes him reconsider trying to have a conversation with you for the moment, and he leans into the room just enough to grasp the door handle and pull it closed behind him as he retreats.

You look at the ceiling for a long moment, swallowing down the urge to scream.

By the time Ghost comes to fetch you for dinner (unsurprising that the other three didn’t have the nerve) you’ve mostly calmed down, untangling your emotions as you do your hair. You hope that John will have news of your cousin’s witness, so you can count down the days. The longing for home has intensified, and all you want is to curl up in your bed in Kate’s house and cry. If it will be weeks, you’ll ask if you can go home in the interim, and come back when the time comes to make your speech.

Ghost helps you button up your dress. You’re so tired of needing help from them. Your ire bleeds over, and you’re snappy with him too, annoyed that you’ve had to spend so much time with men lately. Aggravated that you’re forced to rely on them for something as private as getting dressed, when they shouldn’t even be alone with you in your room to begin with.

You apologize on the way down the stairs, however. Ghost just chuckles in response. “Even when you’re snappin’, you’re a peach,” he says. “Don’t think you missed a single opportunity for a please and thank you. Can’t ‘elp yourself from bein’ sweet.”

“Well, you didn’t do anything,” you say. “I’m not angry with you, I shouldn’t be rude.”

“Think it would be a bit of a lark, you bein’ rude.”

You laugh, and it clears away some of the lingering bitterness, like sediment washing away downstream. You feel remarkably clear-headed when you enter the dining room and face the three sets of guilty eyes.

All three of them start to speak at once, and stop as soon as you raise your hand. “I don’t want to hear it,” you say firmly. “All three of you are grown men, and you should know better than to behave so shamefully.”

John frowns, not happy to be receiving the same share of the blame. “Sweetpea, I wasn’t—”

“I am not finished.” You cut him off with a sharp look. “I know I do not need to chastise any of you. All of you were in the wrong. But I share some of the blame too, allowing you all free access to my space in the first place. So here is what will change. One, I would like a lock on my door. No more popping in without permission. Two, you will all learn how to knock. Three, I would like a lady to accompany me for the rest of my stay here. It is not appropriate for me to accept assistance from any man with dressing, and I do not require shadows following me everywhere I go.”

Ghost shifts beside you. “Now ‘old on,” he says. “You need protection.”

“I need no such thing. I do not believe there are assassins waiting around every corner for me.”

“I should be with you,” he insists. “If somethin’ ‘appens—”

“What do you expect is going to happen?” you ask hotly. You’ve lived on your own for years, and your hiding place was apparently well known to everyone. If an assassin was coming to dispatch you, they would have already come. The opportunities had likely been plentiful.

“Ghost is right. You need to be kept safe.” John holds up both hands when you look at him, half a surrender and half a plea for you to hear him out. You raise your eyebrows slightly, waiting. “A compromise. A fighting woman. Someone that can help you with anything you need, and can defend you if something were to happen.”

You incline your head. It’s a reasonable compromise. “That would be acceptable.”

“Farah?” Kyle asks.

“If she’ll say yes, she’d be the person I trust most with Sweetpea’s safety.” John glances at you, and offers you a little smile, like he’s not sure that you’re entirely done scolding. “You’ll like her. I’ll have her meet you in town tomorrow. Want you fitted for something nice to wear for your speech.”

“There is a closet full of perfectly nice dresses in my room,” you say. “I do not need anything else.”

“Indulge me. Your cousin’s man will be here tomorrow night, and the day after we’ll have you make your statement.” John’s smile widens, turning the slightest, inexplicable bit smug. “Want you to look your best, if it’s to be your last day as a princess, hm? And then on to better things.”

You sigh. It can't hurt to give in on this matter, since you won't have to stay much longer. “Very well, John. Although I think it’s a waste.”

The look in his deep blue eyes is inscrutable, but his smile doesn't slip. “I disagree. Nothing you let me give to you could ever be a waste.”

***

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - Divider by CafeKitsune

#fantasy au #cod mw fanfiction #x reader #x fem reader #141 x Reader #Heavy Weighs the Crown #These bastards really are just the worst #I love writing AUs where Ghost is the most well adjusted one #Send my man to fantasy therapy (learning a trade) and see what happens #Re: Use of the term muppets - Uhhhh Muppets exist in this universe and they travel around doing Punch and Judy type shows #Coming soon to a market square near you lmao #Ye Olde Jim Henson's Workshoppe

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play-rough · 5 months ago

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Happy Birthday Dazai 🥺🤧🩵

I really wanted to have the next classification au finished by Dazai’s birthday, but it just didn’t happen rip

So here’s a chunk of chapter one under the readmore instead! Since it’s a wip, everything below is subject to change 🩵 tw for child abuse and s/h (i know it’s Dazai but it’s more directly referenced idk idk) also let me know if something is incomprehensible because now’s the time to fix it haha 🩵🩵

Thanks everyone for enjoying and encouraging my work 🩵 I hope we have all have a wonderful Dazai birthday celebration 🩵🎉

The first thing that Dazai hears is the sound of writing tools scratching against papers. Someone is at a desk working.

Dazai whines, tongue pressing against something rubber on the edge of his mouth. He recognizes his pacifier after a second, almost falling out. With a quick flick of his tongue, the soother is back in Dazai’s mouth, and he clamps his teeth around it to keep it in place.

The pen against the table paper is a nice soundtrack while Dazai sucks on his pacifier. He feels small, but also something else. More detached than he’s been before, but weirdly less panicked.

He’s not sure who’s writing at the desk, and logically he knows that if he’s resting on a couch, and there’s someone writing at a desk, he could be in Mori’s office.

For some reason, that’s not something that worries Dazai right now, and opening his sleepy eyes a bit to observe his surroundings proves him right. He is in an office, but the Port Mafia’s boss isn’t the one working quietly.

A familiar orange floods Dazai’s vision, and he doesn’t even have to focus and pay attention to know it’s Chuuya.

Dazai whimpers softly, and holds out grabby hands towards the direction of the sounds. The only thing Dazai hears is a soft sigh, but no chairs scraping against floors or footsteps towards a sad baby.

His arms start to get tired, and cold, so Dazai tucks them back against his side. He whines louder instead, hoping to snag Chuuya’s attention.

“Dazai,” Chuuya huffs. “I played with you all morning.”

Dazai bites his pacifier, and then he opens his eyes fully to look at Chuuya.

Chibi is hunched over a desk that’s piled several feet high with paperwork. Despite seeing this, Dazai can’t stop himself as he mewls out another whimper being his paci.

“Dazai.” Chuuya says sternly, and it causes any remaining sounds to die in his throat. “I’m busy. Can’t you go bother someone else?”

He can’t, Dazai only wants Chuuya. His mind is full of memories of being held and rocked to sleep. It makes Dazai wonder why he’s ever fought regressing so hard in the first place. Chuuya’s hands make him feel like jelly, and Dazai can’t help but melt and become putty in his grasp. It’s so nice, and Chuuya feels so warm and safe.

Dazai can’t help but let out another sad whine.

“Fuck, fine,” Chuuya grumbles out, and he couldn’t possibly sound less enthusiastic. Dazai is suddenly sitting in his lap in the blink of an eye, but there’s no back pats or rocking, to his disappointment. “Just stop crying, you’re giving me a headache.”

Dazai can’t stop, he just got started, and doesn’t Chuuya know how long his tantrums go on?

“Stop, I’m holding you aren’t I? Would you rather have a time out?”

That makes Dazai freeze in place, he hates timeouts. He’s suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of boredom and loneliness, so he bites down on his pacifier and grips Chuuya’s shirt, willing the crying to stop.

Dazai can’t, though, as hard as he tries the tears keep coming, and he can’t calm down. Especially not with Chuuya shouting every five seconds.

“Just stop, Dazai,” Chuuya snaps. “You’re being a nuisance!”

The harsh words sting, and also come with a sudden shove. Dazai tries to hang on to Chuuya, but the shirt slips from his grasp, and he falls off of his caretaker’s lap and into inky darkness.

The falling sensation seems to last forever, until Dazai finally opens his eyes with a frantic gasp. He can’t breathe for a good few moments, struggling for air as his stomach flips. It takes an embarrassing amount of time to put together that he’s had a nightmare.

Dazai lays on his bed for a long time, chest hiccupping and stuttering uncontrollably. He feels like crying, no doubt leftover feelings from his dream.

He breathes unsteadily, in and out around his pointer and index finger, nibbling softly at his nails. Dazai must have slipped his fingers into his mouth at some point during the nightmare.

At least, Dazai hoped it was during the nightmare, and he hadn’t slept with his fingers in his mouth all night. He was dreaming of sucking on a pacifier, and the shame he feels tells him that he’s probably been doing this for a while.

Indulging this isn’t going to get him anywhere, it’s his worst habit. While comforting temporarily, it ultimately just makes him feel closer to headspace. Counterproductive, Dazai doesn’t want to drop, so he needs to get his fingers out of his mouth.

Despite telling himself this, Dazai has to forcibly take his hand away, and he definitely feels the loss of comfort when an emptiness washes over him. Stupid. Dazai is so pathetic and stupid.

It’s morning, and his whole day is already ruined by a stupid dream. Dazai feels empty and clingy, a familiar feeling that makes him want attention.

Staring up at the rusty ceiling, his eyes follow a small leak. A drip of water falls a few inches from his head every few moments, and Dazai watches it like seconds ticking away on a clock.

This gets boring very quickly, and boredom only lets Dazai’s thoughts run wild. His nightmare is the only thing in the front of his mind.

You’re being a nuisance!

Dream Chuuya was right, of course. Dazai was a nuisance.

Even if in his dreams he doesn’t remember, Dazai knows why he has to fight it, why he can’t just let go and trust Chuuya will catch him every time he falls.

Chuuya’s not going to be around forever. Flashes of Dazai being shoved away, Chibi’s look of disgust as Dazai calls out for his attention. It reminded Dazai of the face Chuuya made when he bit Tsu. Chuuya is capable of disgust and rage and loathing and Dazai knows one day this softness will end. His partner will grow tired of how difficult he is. Everyone eventually figures out that Dazai isn’t worth the time, the effort, or the headaches.

Dazai rolls over in a huff, hoping to end this train of thought. Wallowing in self pity was another terrible quality of his.

When Dazai’s ear hits the mattress, an uncomfortable ache travels down the side of his face. The pain is a surprise, but it’s also incredibly fast, leaving almost as soon as it starts.

Once that’s over, Dazai still can’t get comfortable. His next distraction is a crawling feeling across his skin. It’s not the worst pain he’s ever felt, but it’s enough to make him forget about his ear for now.

Dazai is no stranger to feeling uncomfortable in his skin, and usually the bandages help. Dazai’s arms are a mess, nights spent doing things he doesn’t want to think about and then weeks following picking things back open whenever he gets nervous. The soft bandages at least keep the sensitive injured skin from rubbing against clothing.

But today, it feels like electricity is sparking up and down every inch of himself, and the bandages itch horribly. Dazai runs a palm up and down his forearm roughly, and it helps the icky feeling for a moment.

Just a moment, though. The second Dazai stops scratching it comes back, maybe even worse than before with the added irritation from disturbing injuries under the bandages.

Everything is uncomfortable this morning. Even the bits of sunlight peeking through cracks in his crate, shining and hitting his eyes. Dazai squints and whines, rubbing his eyes, and then scratching at his other arm.

These bandages are a few days old. Chuuya is always harping on him to change them, and Dazai does. But he’s also thrifty, and a recycler, so there’s a lot of flipping and rewrapping going on. He probably just needs to rewrap his arms and change into something fresh.

Changing his bandages isn’t as easy as it sounds, though. For one thing, Dazai is pretty sure he’s out, so he’s got to get more from the store. Before he can even get to the store, he’s got to get up and get out of bed. Getting out of bed seems impossible. It’s cold.

Really he should just be glad that he doesn’t have to drag himself to the Port Mafia today. He should have been able to lounge in bed all day, recover from a restless night of tossing and turning through nightmares. It’s just his luck that a day when he should be free to lay in bed all day is halted by a need for something stupid like bandages. This is another problem that Dazai has created all by himself, he can’t stop fucking things up, and he can’t avoid punishment, but he’s not responsible enough to keep some stupid bandages around.

Dazai really isn’t good for anything, a barely functioning burden on everyone. He’s a nuisance.

It’s that hatred burning in his tummy that finally gets him to throw the blanket off of himself in a sudden motion, letting it slump onto the floor. From there, a full body shiver sparks up and down his thin form, and it’s a good thing he’s alone. His body lets out a pathetic whimper, and that’s the cherry on top of Dazai’s motivation-cake to get moving. The sooner he gets his bandages, the sooner he can lay down again.

Dazai considers changing his clothes before heading out, last night ended with him falling asleep in his dress pants and white button up again. But, a new set of clothes would be cold, his body heat has made these ones just barely tolerable. It seems pointless when Dazai already had his shoes on, it’s easier just to throw Mori’s coat over his shoulders and leave.

At least if Dazai is walking, he’ll be warmer.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Dazai’s container is out of the way of pretty much everything. This is of course, by design. If Dazai wanted to be within easy access, he’d just live in the Port Mafia dorms. Or better yet, sleep under Mori’s desk, so the boss could use him as a footrest.

No, the shipping container is safe and hidden in plain sight. Surrounded by hundreds of others that look just like it, miles and miles from the Port Mafia.

Also several miles from the nearest drug store.

Actually, there’s one about a mile away from the shipping yard, but if Dazai is spotted there enough, you could theorize that he lives in that surrounding area. That was far too close for Dazai’s comfort, he always tried to avoid the stores that would be considered in his ‘neighborhood.’

He started today off terribly, letting himself be bothered by a stupid nightmare. Dazai should have never left his bed, and this is evident on the walk to the store. Every step makes Dazai’s skin hurt even worse, the cold biting and the textures of his clothes chafing.

Scratching is really all he can do, even if the relief is quickly fleeting. Dazai isn’t sure how long he has to walk, but his joints feel sore. The air is dry, and it makes him realize that at some point his sinuses have begun to hurt. Dazai swallows, feeling his ears pop.

That’s how Dazai continues on all the way to a drug store about a half a mile from the Port Mafia. Swallowing and scratching, willing all these uncomfortable feelings to go away. Dazai brings a hand up to tug on one of his ears as he enters through the automatic doors, hopefully the swap from outside dry air to inside artificial air will help.

Tugging on his ear certainly doesn’t, and Dazai winces at another uncomfortable pop that makes his jaw ache, and goes back to scratching his forearms instead.

The store was big, and there was no large blinking arrow directing Dazai to the bandages. Frankly stupid design choice, and Dazai suddenly remembers his hatred for being out in public.

A store clerk looks like she’s about to acknowledge Dazai, perceiving him even, and he makes a beeline for the back isles. If he walks with purpose, she will assume he doesn’t need help.

Dazai may need help though, because by some miracle he’s found the medical section, with every kind of dressings and ointment except for his. Only the sticky bandages seem to be sold at this drug store.

He searches through surrounding isles, and he’s starting to get a bit frustrated. An ugly feeling sparks in his chest and makes his stomach churn, his face is starting to feel hot and he wants to stomp his foot when something catches Dazai’s attention instead. It’s a colorful display of pastels out of the corner of his eye.

Dazai came here for a reason. He needs bandages. But he’s only been awake for a few hours and today is already so hard, so Dazai’s discipline and focus maybe isn’t the best right now.

There’s a display of baby blankets at the end of one of the isles. Dazai is frozen in place, staring at them. For a moment, it feels like the world stops, until his arm starts itching again.

That’s right. Bandages.

Dazai can feel his cheeks flushing as he stares at the blankies, a different uncomfortable warmth that makes him squirm in shame instead of wanting to throw a fit. He needs to keep looking for bandages, he’s not here to waste time, but he can’t turn his attention away.

He can’t stop himself, his body moves on its own as he takes a few steps towards the display. The blankets look soft. There’s all kinds of colors, but right in front of Dazai is a pastel pink.

Dazai does not have a favorite color. Sometimes if he’s given choices between objects, he goes for a blue, like Chuuya’s eyes. Or, since he really can’t be bothered, he chooses whichever item is closer.

Dazai has never really had the opportunity to choose a pastel pink, and now it’s also the closest one right in front of him. The color was… sweet. It made Dazai think of starfish, and strawberries, and other things that make him feel mushy inside.

Before he knows it, Dazai has spent who knows how long trembling in front of the blankets, like a starving animal looking at food in an obvious trap. Dazai can feel how hot his face is, and he knows he must be beet red. He needs to leave, Dazai has no business standing here in front of a blankie display, but his feet are glued into place.

Dazai isn’t sure what he should be more ashamed over, the fact that he’s wasted so much time fawning over a stupid object, or the fact that the object in question was a pink blanket.

It almost makes him want to throw up thinking about it. It looked like something Mori would get for Elise, a frivolous waste. Dazai was better than that, he didn’t need anything like blankets and toys.

Fishie didn’t count.

He doesn’t dare to reach out and touch the item. If he did, Dazai knew it would all be over. It’s tempting just to flip it over, and view the price, but he knows better.

How expensive could a piece of fabric even be? It’s not like Dazai doesn’t have the money. And blankets are a normal thing to own, not just for babies.

Chuuya owns blankets. Lots of them. Dazai has one blanket, and it’s pretty threadbare, so one could even argue that he was just getting some home necessities. That’s not a crime.

Dazai entertains this idea for half a second, but it’s quickly tossed aside. A small baby blanket isn’t going to make a difference on the cold windy nights. There’s no point.

Besides, this thing was so pathetic, and if Dazai wants to be seen as an adult, he needs to act like one. If Chuuya found out he bought a blankie, Dazai would never hear the end of it.

Of course, he could always keep it hidden under his mattress. The Slug would never know, and then Dazai would have something to cuddle at night in his container.

Dazai’s stomach flips, realizing where his thoughts had gone. Not okay. He quickly pinches himself, up near his inner elbow, for some kind of negative reinforcement. Punishment is the only way he learns.

Dazai doesn’t need something to cuddle at night, just like he doesn’t need to suck on his fingers, and he doesn’t need to regress.

Not to mention that if someone saw him, word would get back to the boss so fast. He could always say it was a gift for Elise, but then Dazai would have to give her his blankie. It’s an unfortunate series of events that makes him feel nauseous just thinking about it.

Dazai’s arms start itching again, and he doesn’t hesitate to scratch them. His joints have started to hurt again too, but he’s probably just tired from another restless night, and walking a few miles to the store didn’t help.

His nails rake up and down his arm, and then Dazai swaps hands after a moment. His cuts are starting to burn, and it makes Dazai want to itch them even more, but with every scratch it just gets worse and worse and worse.

He needs to stop. Something is gonna open up, and then Dazai is going to start bleeding. He’s going to have to deal with the eyes on him as he buys new bandages while actively spotting through his current ones.

If he gets blood on the blanket, he’ll have to buy it.

Dazai can’t entertain that string of thoughts for too long, because his phone suddenly goes off in his pocket. He answers quickly, in case it’s Mori, but the butterflies in his chest tell him it’s Chuuya.

I’m making a new pasta sauce recipe, if you want to try it.

Dazai has never been more thankful for Chuuya’s incredible timing (not even when Slug has shielded him from stray bullets). He’s invited over.

He doesn’t need an invitation, Dazai can do anything he wants, including showing up at Chuuya’s house unannounced. But the fact that he’s got a reminder that Chuuya doesn’t actually hate having him around temporarily makes him forget about his itchy skin and pressured sinuses.

This shopping trip has been a complete disaster, and Dazai hasn’t even figured out where his bandages of choice are kept in this stupid store. He couldn’t get past the stupid fucking blankets.

Without thinking about it, Dazai shoves his hands into his pocket, and marches out. Deep down, he feared that if he hadn’t left at that moment, Dazai would be walking to Chuuya’s house with a blanket tucked in his arms.

Instead, it’s better to pretend that Dazai’s trip to the drug store never happened. Chuuya has bandages he can steal, and Dazai does not need a blankie under any circumstances.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

When Dazai slips into the apartment, he can immediately tell Chuuya is in the kitchen. Chuuya isn’t quiet when he cooks, he bangs pots and pans around and laughs and swears. It’s easy to sneak up on Chibi standing by his stove, stirring something in a pot.

Dazai wants to tease, or make some kind of joke about if Chuuya could even see over the stove, but it dies on his tongue as he watches his partner cook for a few seconds. Chibi looks horribly domestic, stirring the pot and tapping his foot while humming a song Dazai doesn’t recognize.

It suddenly hits Dazai again that all of this is fleeting, and the joke dies on his tongue.

At this moment, Dazai doesn’t want to ruin this, like he’s ruined so many things before. He’s feeling weirdly clingy, and he knows indulging this is a mistake, but right now the attention Dazai is vying for isn’t negative. Most of the time, anything will do. Dazai will take scraps and crumbs of whatever Chibi will throw at him until he’s kicked out.

Today, Dazai doesn’t want to be kicked out. His box is cold, he’s out of bandages, and his skin hurts. Dazai just wants to sit on Chuuya’s couch and enjoy the warmth of a blanket that he doesn't have to have a crisis over.

Dazai just watches, until eventually Chuuya looks back over his shoulder.

#dazai osamu #sfw agere #bsd au #age regression little Dazai Osamu #fic wip

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herofics · 8 months ago

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Hii! I saw your requests were open so I started SPEEDING!! Anyway, I was wondering if I could request a little drabble with Megumi and Gojo with a GN s/o that gets sent on a hard mission and is forced to use their domain (you come up with it since I have no brainpower) and after using it their eyes become pitch black with no sclera (the white part of your eyes) so I’m just wondering what their reaction would be the first time they saw it😭

A/N: I’ve got a few WIPs I need to finish, but they’re scenarios. I wanted to do HCs, because they’re much easier to write, so I picked this request for that. I didn’t really know what kind of domain to do either, so I just didn’t specify it. THe HCs for each character ended up very different, because I kinda wanted to do two different angles

~Gojo Satoru~

•Gojo got to you just as you fell out of the domain, that had been floating high up in the air

•You’d won your fight, and you’d released your technique, but you were too exhausted to break your fall

•Gojo of course caught you midair and teleported to the ground with you

•You were breathing quite shallowly, and you were covered in wounds of different severity, but nothing life threatening

•When you opened your eyes, Gojo was shocked to see they were totally black

•You were starting to panic, because you couldn’t see anything

•Gojo tried to calm you down, since getting agitated would only worsen your injuries and would not help the situation

•Hearing you cry out “I can’t see! I can’t see!” was heart-wrenching, and he decided to get you back to Jujutsu High for treatment as fast as he could

•Of course that was his intention all along, but now he was really in a hurry

•Gojo was reassuring you the whole time as he carried you back to Jujutsu High

•”It’s gonna be okay doll, I’m sure this is temporary” he said, trying to calm himself at the same time

•In his head he was more like “Wtf, wtf, what the hell am I gonna do?”

•Gojo wanted to be there for your treatment, but Shoko kicked him out of the room, because she needed to focus

•Gojo was just pacing back and forth behind the door, impatient as usual

•After a while, Shoko came out of the room, and just told Gojo to get in there

•You were sitting on the bed, and when you raised your head, your eyes were almost back to normal, just a little bit of blackness left on the edges

•Gojo was really relieved and so were you, it’s a pretty scary experience to go blind and not know if it’s temporary or not

•He knelt down in front of you and put his hands on your cheeks, brushing his thumbs under your eyes

•He just stared at you straight in the eye for a while, until your eyes were back to normal

•Gojo doesn’t really get scared for himself, like ever, but seeing someone he loves in such a panicked and scared state, really rattled him

•He asks if you’re okay, and you just nod, placing your hand on top of his on your cheek

•You’re just really tired and Shoko said you should stay at the infirmary for the night, just to make sure you’re okay

•So you decide to go sleep, your eyes still hurt and you can feel a headache coming on

•Gojo makes sure you’re okay, before he has to leave for another mission

•You’re okay the next day, but Shoko told you that whole after effect thing was probably going to happen again, which you didn’t tell Gojo, you didn’t want him to worry

•He of course finds out eventually, and he’s kinda pissy about you not telling him

~Fushiguro Megumi~

•You and Megumi got separated during a fight and when he finally found you, you were unconscious on the floor

•He’s of course worried, but he keeps a cool head and checks on you

•You seem to be fine, minimal injuries, but even when you wake up a moment later, you’re pretty out of it

•When you open your eyes, Megumi is visibly shocked, because your eyes have turned pitch black

•He asks if you’re okay and if you can see, which you find to be a bit of an odd question, because you can see just fine

•You question why he’s even asking you that and he tells you your eyes are totally black

•”WHAT?!” you exclaim and scramble to get your phone out of your pocket

•You turn on the front camera and you can see that your eyes are in fact totally black

•You’re not in pain, at least not any more than you’d expect to be with your injuries

•Megumi doesn’t really know what to do, because you don’t really seem to be any serious pain nor does the darkening of your eyes seem to impair your sight

•He just helps you up and the two of you start walking back to where you’re supposed to get picked up

•He does occasionally ask you if there’s any change in how you feel, but there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with your eyes

•Your eyes start clearing up after a few hours and are completely back to normal in about 24 hours

•Megumi thought it was kind of weird, but nothing more, a domain can have some weird effects on a person’s body, so he feels like it’s not that out of the ordinary

•He does kind of keep hovering around you more than normal, because he just wants to make sure you’re okay, and that you don’t suddenly go blind or something

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #megumi fushiguro #gojo x reader #megumi x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jjk hcs #jjk comfort #jujutsu kaisen comfort #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic

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wandering-winchesters · 2 years ago

Text

Nightmares

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The reader has a nightmare and Dean is there to wake her. After, he questions what caused the nightmare.

Trigger Warning: Mention of abuse, death and implied assault.

Word Count: 2,331

A/N: I wrote this for myself, I have been in my feelings a lot recently and needed an outlet. I hope you find comfort in it as well. Requests are open x.

Masterlist

Fear does not even get close to describing how I feel at this very moment. The face leering above me, should be impossible. He couldn’t be here, it’s just not possible. He died. Not at my hands, but I watched it happen.

“Miss me?” He whispers, the s, whistling when he speaks. His hands come up to grab my face, his touch burning my skin, although no marks appear. “‘Cuz I missed you,” He grins now, pulling me closer to him. Rage fills my every nerve, I try to strike him, bite him anything. But I can’t, my body seems paralyzed. He laughs, the shrill, evil sound bringing back all sorts of cruel memories. I scream, and suddenly it's all ripped away.

“Hey, wake up. It’s okay, you’re okay.” I sit straight up, pulling away from the hands that are shaking my body. Falling straight onto the floor, completely disoriented and unable to distinguish where I am.

“Get the fuck away from me!” I yell, scurrying backwards across the floor until my back hits the wall. Panicking, I reach around to find something, anything that I could use as a weapon. Nothing. My hands are empty. My breathing is shallow, my chest tight and my throat burning from the screams that had left my mouth moments before. The room is pitch black, but I know he’s still there. The light clicks on and I immediately focus on the other person in the room. His hands raised, to show they were empty. His head cocked slightly to the side, a look of avid concern engraved into every inch of his face.

“Hey, it’s just me, Y/N.” He says, his voice low and calm. Recognition sweeps across my body, my eyes lock onto his and I relax. Dean. It’s just Dean. He must see me relax, because he drops his hands back to his side and approaches me. He reaches down, extending both his hands, offering them to me silently. I thank him quietly, and take them. Letting him pull me to my feet and then into his embrace. I willingly sink into his arms, allowing his scent to overwhelm me. The sound of his heart beat a comforting constant rhythm, causing my own to slow. I tuck my head under his chin, resting it fully against his bare chest. He doesn’t question it, just brings a hand to the back of my neck, weaving it into my hair and scrunching his fingers. Playing with my hair in the way that he knows calms me. His other hand is on the small of my back, tracing circles and holding me pressed against him.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, not daring to pull away or even attempt to move. I am positive that if I tried to stand on my own, my legs would give out from beneath me.

“Don’t be, I was awake anyways.” A lie and we both know it. However, neither of us choose to debate it. “You wanna talk about it?” He asks, pulling back slightly so he can look down at me. I glance back up at him, sleep still heavy throughout all his features. I shake my head, not trusting my voice to speak. He nods in understanding, not pushing me any further.

He loosens his grip on me, his hand hand from my neck dropping, but leaves the one on my back. He guides me back towards my bed, I sit on the edge, my knee bouncing.

“You can go back to bed, De. I’m okay now.” I glance up at him, his face clearly showing that he knows I am lying. He doesn’t argue, nods his head and presses a kiss to my forehead. Something he does often, even though we aren’t together.

“I’m not far if you need something.” He says, before turning and closing my bedroom door behind him.

I wrap my arms around my core, trying to calm myself. Something I have done since I was a small child, but nothing seems to stop it now. I lay down, wrapping myself up in every blanket I can find, in hopes of warming my chilled body. Even though I know, the chill is internal, not something the warmest fire or blanket could resolve. According to the clock on my bedside table, I lay there for thirty minutes, restless and sleep evading my grasp. I sigh and toss my blankets to the side, clamoring out of my bed and over to the door leading to the hallway of the bunker.

The lights are still on, someone is still up. I hear noise coming from the library and decide to head that way. I make a pit stop in the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge, I figure whichever brother is still awake will appreciate a cold beer if they’re still awake this late. My feet are cold, the tile floor sending a chill through my body. I should have brought one of the blankets from my bed with me, but I am not going back to get one now. I round the corner into the library and see Dean, slouched in the corner of the couch, one leg outstretched, the other planted firmly on the floor. On the couch that the boys had dragged in there specifically for me to curl up on, while I read up on whatever lore necessary for the next hunt. The TV is turned on, some old movie playing quietly on the screen. He sees me coming and chuckles, I am a sight, I’m sure. My hair pulled up in a messy bun, sleep shorts hugging my hips and one of Dean’s well worn shirts adorning my body. I offer him a sheepish smile, handing him one of the beers. He shifts his body, so I can sit comfortably next to him. He pops the cap off his beer, taking a sip before turning to face me, slinging an arm over the back of the couch. I settle into the corner, leaning back and crossing my legs under me. I look down at the beer in my hand and debate on whether I want to struggle with the lid or just ask him for help. I choose the latter, I hold it out to him and shake it back and forth, gently. “Help, please?” I say, a small smile forming on my lips. He laughs again, reaching over and popping the bottle top off easily. Handing it back to me, but not before giving me crap about not being old enough to drink if I can’t get the lid off. I roll my eyes at him, but thank him all the same. We sit in silence for awhile, watching the movie play out before us. I have no idea what was happening, but I was thankful for his company nonetheless. I feel his eyes on me every so often, glancing at me before focusing back on the television.

“Y/N,” He breaks the silence, I look over at him and he is focused on me now. His beer mostly gone, I can tell he has questions. Things he wants me to clarify and it makes anxiety bubble up within me.

“You want another beer? I’ll go get it.” I say, standing quickly and moving to take his almost empty bottle. “What? No, sit down.” He sighs, grabbing my arm as I go to take his beer. I comply, knowing that I owe him an explanation. I sit back on the couch, returning to my prior position. I grab the blanket from the back of the couch and pull it over me, a barrier between myself and the outside world.

“You were talking in your sleep before you screamed, something about how he should be dead? You watched him die yourself? And then you screamed and, god, I have never heard that sound come from you before. What was that one about, sweetheart? Did something happen to you? Something you haven’t told me?” He poses the questions gently, his eyes watching me for any reaction or glimmer of an explanation. I stare at my lap, my hands coming up to rub my arm, a method of self soothing that I had adopted long ago.

“De, I, I don’t know where to start.” I mumble, stuttering over my words in the beginning. My throat feels closed off and it is difficult to speak. My eyes flutter closed as a flash of memory floods my brain. The hard floor pressed against my back, the metal digging into my wrists, his face hovering above me. The things he had done, mostly unknown by myself at that moment in time. My consciousness fleeting in and out, thanks to the concussion he had given me in the process of breaking my will.

“Hey,” Dean rests his hand on my knee, snapping me back to reality with a jolt. “you’re not there, wherever your thoughts are. You’re here, with me and you’re completely safe.” He says, his thumb moving back and forth over my skin. I nod, clearing my throat.

“Dean, do you remember when your dad called you and told you that he needed you to come get me and keep me with you for awhile?” I ask and Dean nods, his lips curving up in a slight smile.

“A call, I will forever be thankful for.” He states and I smile back, momentarily distracted and reminded of the day when Sam and Dean showed up outside of the motel room John had left me in.

“What he didn’t tell you was why. Your dad found me, he was hunting a demon. That demon happened to be possessing my boyfriend at the time. What I didn’t realize is that the entire time I was with him, he was possessed. I fell for all of his tricks, all of his advances, sweet nothings and every promise he made me. He had an easy time of it, he promised me an escape from my family. I was desperate to get out, so when an attractive, seemingly kind man offered me that, I jumped at the opportunity. It didn’t take long after I moved in with him for everything to change. He became cruel, snapping at me over the smallest things. Controlling what I did, who I could see.” I pause, taking a shaky breath. Dean squeezes my knee giving me the courage to continue. “If I didn’t do what he wanted or if I talked back, he would beat me…” Over the next few minutes I go into more detail of the things that he would do to me, the way he treated me and the closed brushes with death that I experienced. I don’t even realize that tears have started to fall from my eyes, until Dean brushes one away with his thumb. His face unreadable, but his body tense.

“The night your dad found me, was the closest I ever came to death. I watched your dad kill him. He used one of the bullets from the colt to kill him, in the process killing the body that the demon possessed. I don’t know who he was, or anything about him but his face haunts me, almost every night. I wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for your dad. If you hadn’t come to get me when he asked, I don’t know what would have happened to me or where I would be now. I think he knew that, which is why he had you two come get me. Take me in.” I exhale, my breathing accelerated now, a small sob escaping my lips. The feeling of getting everything off my chest and out into the open a relief, one that I never thought I would get. I drop my head into my hands my tears flowing freely now, sobs emanating from deep within me.

“C’mere.” Dean mutters, his hands gripping my ankles and pulling me across the couch towards him. He pulls me into his arms, his hand pulling my head into his chest and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Ive always known there was a reason for what dad did, but I never expected it to be that. The demon is lucky that he’s already dead, otherwise he would have absolute hell to pay.” He murmurs, his lips moving against my forehead, his words soft but the anger showing through them.

“I didn’t want you to think less of me, Dean. I thought that if you knew then you would look at me differently, think of me as weak. That you wouldn’t let me come with you and Sammy on hunts.” I say, pulling my body closer to his, the need for comfort overwhelming any other thought in my head.

“I could never think any less of you, Y/N. You are one of the most amazing people I know and I am so lucky to have you in my life. Please never doubt that, baby.” His words shock me, especially the use of baby. He has called me sweetheart many times, out of comfort or teasing. But never anything else.

“Dean?” I ask, my voice timid and quiet. He hums in response, looking down at me. “Thank you, for listening. For waking me up from my nightmare and comforting me. I couldn’t have gotten through tonight without you.” I look up at him, our eyes locking. I rest one of my hands on his cheek, angling his face towards me. I inhale, steeling my nerves and lean up, closing the distance between our lips. I hesitate, close enough to almost taste him, close enough I can feel his breath against my lips. He leans down, closing the distance and kisses me. It is unlike any kiss I have had in the past, its slow, meaningful and there is no hint of an ulterior motive. Just this, just a kiss. Just me and him. It’s enough, I’m enough.

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advisorykitty · 2 months ago

Text

More than enough ˢᵉᵇᵃˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

(I'm probably going to rewrite this because I don't really like it @_@) •╭──────┄°❀°┄──────╮•

Sebastian had been on edge all day. It wasn’t unusual for him to be wary around Randal—Randal had a way of getting under his skin like no one else and also testing how far Sebastian could go before he'd snap.

But today, things had been particularly bad. Randal had been in one of his weirder moods, and thought it would be a good idea to feed Sebastian some 'food' he cooked up.

Sebastian found himself stumbling over his words, tripping over furniture, and generally feeling like he was walking on a tightrope, not to mention his stomach was aching from what Randal had fed him.

Now, evening had fallen, and the house was finally quiet. Everyone had retreated to their rooms, leaving Sebastian alone in the living room.

He sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. The screen was dark, reflecting the dim light of the room back at him. He hadn’t even bothered to turn it on; it was just nice to be in a place where no one was bothering him, where he didn’t have to worry about fighting for his life or sleeping with one eye open.

The day’s events played back in his mind. He had tried to stay out of Randal’s way, but that never seemed to work. Randal had found him in the kitchen, cowering in one of the kitcheb cupboards. Randal had made some snide comment, and Sebastian had tried to laugh it off, but it came out as more of a strangled cough.

Then there was the incident in the hallway when Sebastian had been forced to play a bizarre game with Randal and his living? dolls. Randal insisted on assigning each doll a role, giving them voices, and specific names.

Randal even brought his nurse outfit which clouded Sebastian’s mind with *bad* memories.

Sebastian, uncomfortable and apprehensive, had refused to endure Randal’s game. That’s when Randal’s expression twisted, and he suddenly lunged at Sebastian. Panicked, Sebastian bolted down the hallway, Randal chasing after him with a terrifying grin, yelling that no one disobeyed the rules of his game while holding his scissors menacingly

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his ginger hair. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Randal—well, okay, maybe he didn’t like him at all , but it wasn’t like he hated him, either. He just wished things could be... easier and maybe get a chance to return home.

He wished he could just blend into the background and not be noticed, not have to navigate the minefield of Randal’s mood swing and Nyen's motives.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up to see you standing there, a concerned expression on your face.

“Hey, you okay?” you asked gently.

Sebastian shrugged, trying to muster up a smile, but it felt forced even to him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... a.. uh.. long day.”

You stepped into the room, closing the door behind you as if to seal off the rest of the world. “I noticed. Randal can be... eccentric...sometimes.”

Sebastian let out a short, humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

You sat down next to him on the couch, close enough that he could feel your warmth but not so close that it felt intrusive. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He hesitated, glancing down at his hands. He had never been very good at talking about his feelings. It always seemed easier to just keep them to himself, to bottle them up and push them down where they couldn’t bother anyone else. But you were looking at him with such genuine concern that it made his chest ache. He took a deep breath.

“It’s just... I don’t know. I feel like everything I do annoys him. Like I can’t do anything right. And today was just...” He shook his head, unable to find the right words. “I just want to go home.”

You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm. “I know you do. And i can understand that"

You remember how your introduction was like at the Ivory Household.

Yeesh.... bad memories..

He looked up at you, searching your eyes for any hint of pity or condescension, but all he saw was sincerity. It made something inside him loosen, just a little. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I just wish... I don’t know, I wish I could just you know.. not have to fight for my life or question what food i have to eat.”

“I get that,” you said softly. “But you don’t have to be scared. You don’t have to be anything other than who you are. And if Randal can’t see that, then that’s his problem, not yours.”

He bit his lip, nodding slowly. “It’s just hard, you know? I feel like I’m constantly on edge and I'm scared that I'll mess up”

You squeezed his arm gently. “Everyone messes up, Sebastian. It’s part of being human. You don’t have to be perfect, and you don’t have to try so hard to fit in. You’re fine just the way you are.”

He felt his throat tighten, and he swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t. But your words, your kindness, they were like a balm on a wound he hadn’t even realized was there. He took a shaky breath. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

You smiled, a warm, gentle smile that made his heart feel a little lighter. “Anytime. You’re not alone, okay? You have people who care about you. And I’m here if you ever need to talk or just... not be alone.”

He nodded, feeling a little bit of the weight lift from his shoulders. “I appreciate that. I really do.”

You stayed there with him, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence. It was nice, just being with someone who didn’t expect anything from him, who didn’t make him feel like he had to be someone he wasn’t. After a while, you leaned back, resting your head on the back of the couch.

“Do you want to watch something?” you asked, glancing at the TV.

Sebastian shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Sure. Anything but horror, though. I think I’ve had enough scares for one day.”

He was always so effortlessly funny.

You chuckled softly. “Deal. How about a comedy? Something light and funny.”

“Sounds perfect,” he said, leaning back and letting himself relax for what felt like the first time all day.

You turned on the TV, flipping through the uncanny channels until you found something that looked good. As the TV show started, Sebastian glanced over at you, his heart feeling a little lighter, a little less burdened. Maybe today hadn’t been so bad after all. Sure, Randal had been a pain and he almost died...

Again.

But you were here, and that made everything a little more bearable.

As the movie played, he felt the tension slowly drain out of his body. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t some hostage.

He was just... Sebastian, and that was enough.

And with you by his side, maybe—just maybe—things would be okay.

• ○ . ☆ . ° •╰──────┄°❀°┄─────╯• ° . ☆ .

#ranfren x reader #sebastian ranfren #ranfren

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sunlightmurdock · 8 months ago

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It may just be the hormones, but I can't stop thinking about how tender the first night after giving birth would be in the apocalypse. Because Jake just witnessed his beautiful wife do what he dreaded most, and she did so, so well, and all his worries have been proven wrong, because both she and their baby are safe, and the baby is actually not a curse, but the cutest little being he ever saw and although he is still worried about how his wife will recover, but the 'doctor' and other mothers at their camp all say she looks fine and everything seems as it should be, and she herself says she feels good, even if awfully exhausted, so Jake finally allows himself to take a breath and just appreciate his small family for the first time. And at night when it's finally just the three of them (because I think everyone at camp would want to get the hope of a new life, so they would want to see them), with his wifey lying on her back, their baby sound asleep on her chest, Jake curled up and pressed right onto his wife's side, a hand on their baby's back, he would just feel so overwhelmingly grateful and full of love for the two of them and counting his lucky stars for everything going well and for getting to experience this, even if in the middle of an apocalypse. And he would just keep pressing featherlight kisses to both his wife's face and to their baby's head, and gently caress the baby's back every time they would wiggle and squirm, and he would be so amazed when that would soothe the baby right back to a peaceful sleep...

(sorry, this got way too long)

okay first of all I’m sorry that it took me two days to reply to this but oh my godddd this is just so fluffy and incredible 🥹

You’re so right about it too, because Jake would have spent so much of the pregnancy angry and on edge because he’s just so panicked about the unknown. It had really driven a wedge between your relationship, because he was so against your enthusiasm about the thing. And back when it was just in your belly, it was so much easier to pretend that all this was was a thing.

Now that they’re here, and they’re so calm, and they look like you — Jake knows he’s done for. He can’t ever pretend that he doesn’t want this ever again. They’re laying against your chest, and Jake’s mesmerised by each deep inhale that their little chest fills with. Their hand is curled into a ball, resting against your clavicle. You’ve got one hand on their butt to secure them, but you drifted off a while ago. It’s alright, though — Jake’s wide awake.

Every now and again, their mouth will open or their nose will scrunch and Jake’s just staring through the dim light of the camping lantern you keep by the bed.

This is the first time he has gotten alone with you since the contractions started two days ago. It was a terrifying experience. He hated seeing you in pain. Everyone in camp had their part in it, whether it was keeping you comfortable or keeping the perimeter safe, Jake’s grateful to them all. But by this evening, he had been so glad to be able to make them all go away and give you some peace finally.

He reaches out, carefully, and rests his fingertips along the infant’s bare back. He smooths over their skin, baffled by how soft and tiny and… perfect they are.

“Jake…?” You stir, mumbling out without opening your eyes. Your free hand reaches for him and finds the warm skin of his chest.

He shifts closer, snuggling himself into your side and kissing your shoulder, securing his palm over the baby’s back. “Right here, baby. I’m here.”

#apocalypse dbf!jake #dbf!jake #jake Seresin #Jake hangman Seresin

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journey-to-the-attic · 8 months ago

Text

3rd anni req 11: [NIGHTBRINGER] belphie, lucifer / deep sleep

ao3 link

note: i've mostly been doing these in the order i remember getting them so far, but i might start skipping around, since they're quite lucifer-frontloaded (not that i'm complaining). anyway - this is based on nb lesson 12, where mc's in that curse-coma, but! the twist is that ik can somehow still speak through it. since, y'know, special reaper curse

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

“...oh, you’re here.”

Lucifer doesn’t look up as Belphie slips into the room. He stays there, sitting in a chair he’s dragged from the dining room, half-hunched over, with his forearms on his knees. Belphie gets the distinct feeling that his oldest brother hasn’t slept in the last forty-eight hours.

He glances over at the wan face of the room’s only other occupant. “...still not up?”

“Solomon said not to expect it to happen soon,” Lucifer says blankly. “We don’t know the exact nature of the curse. By all means, it should have been fatal.”

They both look at IK’s blank face. The light flickers in a way that, for a moment, makes her look as if she’s blinking awake - though Belphie doesn’t dare hope.

“Weird kid,” He mumbles, more to her than Lucifer. “You can’t do magic, but you can survive reaper curses? If you can do that, why didn’t you…”

'Why didn’t you stop us from trying to hurt you?' is what he means, but he can’t finish the question. Lucifer looks as if he knows what he was going to say, anyway.

“So where’s Solomon gone, then?” He asks after a beat, frowning. “All that talk, and he’s not even staying to look after her?”

“He said he’d look for solutions in the tomes at the cave. And that he was leaving IK in charge.”

Yeah, that’s right.

“As if h— huh?”

They both whip around. IK hasn’t moved.

Belphie glances quickly at Lucifer. “Did you hear—?”

“Yes.” His response is short and harried. “What was that?”

They both fall silent for a moment, listening hard. Nothing.

“Maybe we’re just hearing things,” Belphie says reluctantly, though he’d swear it to anyone that he just heard IK speaking, loud and clear.

“Do you think that’s likely?” Lucifer stands up, staring around the room like a sentinel, a dangerous shadow falling over his face. “It could be any manner of mimicry. If something’s gotten in—”

Wait, did you hear me?

Lucifer goes dead silent. There's no mistaking that voice - but there’s also no mistaking the fact that the speaker has not moved an inch.

After a moment, Belphie tries, “IK?”

You did! She sounds downright joyful - the words don’t quite ring like speech does in a room, but the voice in their heads is clear as day. I was so BORED.

“You can talk?” He asks, bewildered. “Wait, you’re— can’t you open your eyes?”

No. Do you think I haven’t tried? Now she sounds aggravated. I’ve been awake this whole time. I just can’t bloody move.

“Watch your language,” He says automatically.

Don’t start. I’m losing my mind here. But you can actually hear me now!

“Yes, you’ve said that already.” Lucifer sits down again, leaning forward, practically on the edge of his seat. “How much do you remember?”

Hmm. I remember you both trying to kill me.

A pause. Then Lucifer asks, voice suddenly about half as loud, “What is your situation, then?”

There’s a sort of buzz, as if IK is laughing. Not much going on. It’s like sitting in a dark room. I can hear things coming from outside, but I can’t see anything. It sucks.

Say, if you were a shark, what kind would you be?

“What?”

I think you’d be a nurse shark, Belphie, because they’re usually chill, except when they aren’t. And Lucifer would be… a blue shark, because that’s his favourite colour.

They exchange mildly bemused looks. After a moment, Lucifer says slowly, “How do you know that? I’ve never told you.”

…uh… Belphie gets the distinct feeling that IK is panicking. ...context clues. You know, clothes and stuff.

“You’ve only seen him wearing red,” He says a little suspiciously.

And what’s the opposite of red? Blue. Next question.

It’s no use trying to pry. Every time this happens - every time Belphie gets the unnerving feeling that their attendant knows them better than they even know themselves - he tries to figure out why, and IK deflects. The dedication would be impressive if it wasn’t annoying.

Who is this kid? She shows up, completely out cold, and hasn’t even been awake for an hour by the time she’s been put in charge of the Devildom’s newly-minted residents. Then Solomon, of all people, that sorcerer whose reputation long precedes him, shows up calling her his ward, even though she’s got no magic to speak of.

Though Belphie doesn’t know what else to call her knack for making them… talk. She takes to the Devildom like a duck to water - practically skips through it all while they’re still mired in their own rotten souls. They should’ve been insulted that Diavolo would think this ridiculous little thing capable of handling the seven of them, but IK does it like it’s second nature.

That’s the frustrating part. They’ll tell her near-everything, and IK tells them absolutely nothing. And it isn’t that they’re stupid, or blind, or so self-absorbed that they don’t notice when she goes quiet - when she stares off at something that isn’t there, eyes filled with some inexplicable loneliness that should be far beyond her years.

Is Satan around? IK asks. He was in here, reading, before. He couldn’t hear me then, but maybe he will now.

“Um… he went out.” Belphie sits down on the foot of the bed. “Hey. I’m… not angry with you anymore.”

Wow. Do you want an award?

“No, I—” He swallows. His tail flicks up behind him, and he seizes it for comfort before he can stop himself. “—I’m sorry. That’s what I meant.”

Oh.

Okay.

He waits for a moment. There’s no other response. He looks at Lucifer.

His brother’s face is twisted into something that might resemble remorse. The ironic part is that Ik would probably know better than he does, if only she could open her eyes to see.

“We’re doing what we can,” is all Lucifer says after a while. “You will be alright. I can promise you that.”

That’s a relief, she says, a touch ironically. So am I just stuck like this until Solomon figures something out?

Lucifer’s jaw tightens. “...I don’t know. All we can do is wait.”

Great. I’ll get right on that.

Belphie scoffs. “I don’t know how you’re making jokes right now. You could’ve died. You still might now.”

Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, says IK dryly. I know what being dead feels like. This isn't anything like it.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

No answer. Belphie shoots an apprehensive look at Lucifer, then leans forward. “Hey. I’m talking to you.”

Silence. He doesn’t know if IK’s refusing to speak, or if the connection has broken already. He makes as if to stand up, to go find Barbatos, or Diavolo, or anyone who might know how to repair it. He can't lose it now.

He’s poured his heart out to her once before, then hadn’t even waited a day to turn on her. He doesn’t know what, but he has to do something about it, right?

But, before he can, Lucifer takes a deep breath, then abruptly stands up.

“...I have to go,” He mutters.

That, at least, gets IK to speak up again - Belphie feels a rather distracted spark of relief. Where are you going?

“Out,” He replies sharply, then pauses, and sighs. “...I need to clear my head. You’re… incomprehensible.”

That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.

…hey. You’ll come back and talk to me, right? It’s really boring in here.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, softer.

It’d be nice.

Lucifer looks at IK for a moment, then leans down. Belphie doesn’t quite see what he does, but when he straightens up again, the blankest are tucked in more snugly, and IK’s hair looks a little neater than it did before.

“Then I will,” Lucifer tells her, and steps back. With one last, lingering glance, he turns on his heel, and walks out.

…

…Belphie, are you still there?

“Yeah,” He says quietly, and decides to take Lucifer’s seat. “Are you okay?”

Not the best I’ve been. Not the best week I’ve had, either.

He wishes he had some water. “That’s our fault, isn’t it?”

Sorry.

“Don’t— what are you saying sorry for? You always—” He stops himself before he can finish. “—you’re so weird.”

A pause. Then, That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.

“Stop it. Just…” He drags a hand through his hair and catches a finger on his left horn. “...just let me feel bad, will you?”

…fine.

He takes a breath. “...Beel’s okay, by the way. I don’t know if you’ve heard him.”

I did. I’m really glad.

“He’s worried. We all are. Look, I—”

Don’t bother, IK interrupts. …I get it, I mean. You don’t have to explain it to me.

“I really don’t get you,” He mumbles.

Another laughing sound. I get that a lot.

“Aren’t you scared? Aren’t you angry?”

Not angry. Scared… maybe.

Doesn’t matter, though. It’ll be fine. It has to be. I have to get…

Silence for a while. He doesn't quite dare to ask - have to get... what? What is it that she's so determined to hold on for?

…hey. If you wanted to, say, make it up to me… could you hold my hand?

He blinks. “Will you be able to feel it?”

I don’t know. But it’d be a nice thought.

“...okay. Sure, I can do that.”

Belphie drags the chair closer, untucks a corner of the blanket, and closes his fingers around a cold little hand. IK's voice murmurs a quiet thank you.

If he really squints, he can fool himself into seeing a tiny smile on her face.

"You'd better wake up soon."

#3rd anni event #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer #jtta ik #writing #ik gets nightbrought #obey me nightbringer

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secretlythepits · 6 months ago

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Legos, Teeth, Nightmares

I’m not taking care of myself. I’m not taking care of business. I have no time to waste but that’s all I’m doing. I’ve noticed my unhealthy coping behaviors creep up and now I’m worried. I’m using this post to help me— I don’t know— I need help.

I’ve been watching a lot of tv. This is what I do when I numb down. I’m rewatching This Is Us. So, themes. But also, catharsis.

I’m not eating consistent meals. I skip, forget, and I feel starving. Sometimes I stay starving and sometimes I make a poor choice. Or, i’ll make a good choice but then the rest of the meals are thrown off.

I’m not exercising or even walking. Part of this is due to my sprained ankle, though I think walking would be good at this point. Part of it is a heat wave making most of the day too hot so have a narrow window to make it happen. But the biggest thing is that I feel utterly paralyzed so I’m sitting on the sofa thinking about all that I need to do that I’m not doing and feeling ashamed and overwhelmed. It feels like I just CAN’T.

I need to complete important paperwork. I made good progress and just stopped. It still needs to be done.

I haven’t worked on my business since I came back. I need to get it up and running, but my mind is not in that head space. This is a needed income source.

I need to make a bunch of appointments for myself and the kids, but I haven’t because I don’t know what my husband’s doctors schedule will be. That’s stupid. I should just set them and adjust if necessary, but I CAN’T.

All I want to eat are carbs and sweets.

My body composition is changing rapidly due to perimenopause and these behaviors are making it worse. This greatly affects how I feel about myself.

I’ve been having so many sleep issues. Last night I had a dream where I was getting married in a couture LEGO dress, but as I was getting ready, all of my teeth fell out. I was naturally distressed and then I realized that I must have bone cancer. The dream lasted forever and I kept running around, looking for help, but nobody seemed to care enough to even try to help me. My husband was like, ok, you have to just deal with it. It’s still time to get married. I was freaking out and nobody could recognize the emergency. I felt so lost, panicked and alone.

The PET scan results will come in any day or maybe in a week. I am on edge. They will be the most telling. Biopsy is tomorrow.

I need support, but I don’t even know what to ask for. What can my friends do? I can’t talk to my husband about it because he is overwrought.

What I wish:

I want to remember to stay in my lane. Eyes on my life. Keep moving forward with my goals.

I really want to prioritize my own health and wellness. I want to lose weight and build strength. I want to feel inside of my body again. I like that feeling.

I want to renew my spiritual practices because they ground me, renew my energy, and bring me peace. (I’ve been avoiding them too.)

I want to make progress on my to do list so I have less to worry about.

I want unlimited amounts of good chocolate.

I want to sink into a good book, literary fiction that captivates me wholly.

I want to sleep through the night.

I want to know how to feel more supported while not having any of this touch my husband.

I want to be able to approach my day with a spark of go get em.

I don’t know how.

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berylcups · 4 months ago

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(♥️) All of You- Trans!Ghiaccio X Reader (wip mini preview)

Notes: I got some inspo from one of my favorite bands, take a listen if you want. It’s a really lovey dovey song 💖 I want to see if people think I’m going in the right direction with this fic by giving a small preview. I hope you like it so far-I’m putting my whole heart into it so I’m a little nervous 🥲 enjoy the small snack! 💜 Beryl

CW: coming out anxiety, body insecurities, past toxic relationships mentions, very very very slight yandere tendencies from reader??? Nothing toxic just extremely dedicated

“I don’t know what to do. I’m so fucking frustrated. I want so much more than just kissing and making out but I keep basically edging myself because I’m too afraid of what they’ll think once they know who I really am.” He ranted as he paced across the room. “ and god —I know this bothers them because when I stop them they look so dejected! But they smile and say it’s okay and everything is fine when I KNOW they are fucking lying!”

“Ghiaccio calm down and take a deep breath. I know it pisses you off when I say that but I really mean it.” Melone said, trying to calm his partner down. “You know very well you are your authentic self. Always have, always been. You need to come out only when YOU are ready. If Y/N can’t be bothered to wait for you and want intimacy that bad, then they weren’t meant for you. But Y/N is the most patient person I've met and I think they will wait as long as it takes for you.”

“…Yeah I know. I’m just worried about…you know…my anatomy.” He sighed, combing his hand through his curls.

“Only someone heartless would be concerned about something like that.” Melone growled, thinking about the painful past. He could only sleep well at night knowing that they were used as surrogates for his stand.

“Y/N practically idolizes you. I don’t think they would reject a single part of you. I truly believe that.”

_____________________________________________

“Well we both officially have been together for 7 months now and…we haven’t… you know. I’m not trying to pressure him or anything so please don’t take that the wrong way! I will always wait for him! But…am I not attractive to him? Is that why?” You asked nervously.

“Oh no absolutely not. He’s VERY attracted to you amore. He…well… we grew up together so I can read him like a book but the problem he’s having is—he has some insecurities.”

“Insecurities? About what? Did I do or say something wrong? I would never meant to make him feel that way!” You panicked. “ I love him so much I’d fucking kill for him—I’d even kill myself for HIM. I would do ANYTHING for this man!”

“Woah—calm down Y/N amore. I know you do. But don’t do anything rash now. You didn’t do anything wrong at all. It has nothing to do with anything you did… But try to take yourself out of the picture here… You are the first successful relationship he’s had in his life. Anytime he fully opened up to his past partners it..ended up nasty and his heart broken. He’s afraid of the past repeating itself.” Melone gently rubbed your back as he explained.

“Ok. It’s not about me. I was being a little selfish and impatient now that you put everything in perspective… Poor Ghia. He deserves an apology. I never knew he was so insecure.” You clasped your hands together in your lap thinking hard about your past behavior.

#beryl wips #jjba #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #jojo ghiaccio x reader #trans!cannon X reader #Spotify

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centralperkchenford · 1 year ago

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please please please do one were Lucy is afraid of needles but has to get like a shot and refuses to go to the doctor but Tim makes her. An alternative would be a sickfic but she refuses to take medication

Okay so I combined it. Sickfic! Has to get an IV. Best of both worlds! Hope you enjoy!

I wanna be the man you want me to be So startin' right now, girl, tell me everything you need

Tim hears Lucy cough again from their bedroom and sighs. He grabs the cup of water he just filled and heads to the bedroom. He gets to the doorway and can’t help but smile, Lucy is buried under the covers. He makes his way towards her and sits on the edge of the bed, and shakes her a little.

“Baby you need to drink some water.” He says softly reaching to feel her forehead. It’s hot and sweaty. It feels warmer than it did an hour ago and he’s concerned.

“M’m fine.” She mumbles. “Just want to sleep.” Tim sighs and pulls down the blankets. She’s only in her bra and underwear because she sweat through her pajamas.

“Baby you can sleep but please drink some water.” Tim begs. “I have some Advil too so it can break the fever.”

“No Advil. M’m fine.” She says again her voice getting more slurred by the minute. Tim sighs and slips his hand around her waist so she can sit up. He pulls her up and he sees how sick she really is.

“It will help Lucy.” He says. “Please take it or you are going to have to go to the doctor.” Lucy slips back down and he’s not even sure if she heard what he said. She’s been in this state for almost a day and the fever really only got worse today. He was so worried about her, he stayed home from work to make sure she slept and took care of herself. She protested but he refused to leave her alone.

Besides he is her husband and he vowed to take care of her in sickness and in health.

“I’m fine.” She mutters. “Go to work or go home.”

Tim huffs out a laugh and smoothes back her sweaty hair. “Baby, it’s 6:00pm and I am home. We live together remember?”

Lucy doesn’t say anything at first, she looks up at him her eyes bloodshot. “No hospital. M’m fine.” She says.

“No matter how many times you say your fine doesn’t mean I will believe it babe. You are sick. You need to take Advil and drink water.” Tim says firmly. Lucy rolls over so her back is turned to him. He’s not sure why she’s being so stubborn, maybe because she is out of it and doesn’t know what she’s actually saying no to.

Tim kisses her shoulder softly and then sets the water on the side table. “Drink the water Luce.” He says softly before leaving the room.

He is sitting on the couch trying to figure out to get Lucy to take the Advil or drink the water when he hears a loud crash in the bedroom. He jumps up and runs into the room but Lucy is nowhere to be seen. He goes into the bathroom and finds her on the floor by the toilet. He sees a small bump forming on the back of her head and knows she hit the toilet when she fell. He rushes over and helps her up.

“Luce.” He says his no heart pounding because now he has to worry about a concussion. “Baby, can you hear me?”

She doesn’t answer and Tim has had about enough of his wife being in pain and sick. So he pulls her up by the armpits and drags her to the bedroom placing her on the bed. He grabs some leggings and her favorite shirt of his and dresses her. And then slides her flip flops on her feet.

“Luce, we are going to the emergency room, nod if you understand.” He says his voice urgent and panicked. Lucy slumps forward and he catches her.

Fuck.

He picks her up again and practically drags her out of the house, he loads her up into his truck. And leans against it, he’s sweating now his whole body shaking as he goes to the driver side. He looks over at Lucy and she has her eyes opened but she is pale and sweating profusely. He reaches over and squeezes her fingers.

“Lucy. Can you hear me?” Tim asks. She turns her head and he signs a small breath of relief. “We are going to the hospital okay?”

“No! Please no hospital!” Lucy begs and even if it’s to beg not to go Tim is relieved to hear her voice.

“We are going.” Says Tim firmly. “You don’t have a choice.” Lucy starts shaking her head reaching for the door handle but they are already moving.

“Lucy!” He snaps. “What is your problem?” Lucy turns to him with her bloodshot eyes, tears filling them and even in her out of state she knows he just snapped at her.

“Do’nt wanna go to hospital.” She mumbles turning away from him. Tim sighs and reaches for her hand.

“I know sweetheart.” He says gently the guilt rising up in him. “But you fell down and you have a fever and are probably dehydrated.”

“Still don’t want to go.” She mutters.

“Why?” Tim asks. He pulls up to the emergency room and looks at his wife. This is the most he’s gotten out of her all day. “What’s wrong baby?”

“No needles.” She says her voice getting slurred again and Tim knows she has to move. He gets out of the truck and goes to the passenger side. He opens the door and pulls her out.

“I don’t like needles.” She mumbles and taps her side.. Tim tilts his head at her and then it hits him.

Caleb. Tattoo.

“Oh Lucy.” He pulls her closer and kisses the top of her head. “Oh baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize. I’m—”

“Just don’t like them.” She says again and then she buries her head into his chest. “Can we go home.”

And he wishes he could take her home and wrap her up and keep her safe but he knows she needs fluids and she may have a concussion.

“I will be with you the whole time sweetie.” He whispers. He wraps himself around her and drags her in. It doesn’t look too busy but god he hopes they can get her in.

A nurse comes up to Tim, takes one look at Lucy and then is taking her from his arms. Lucy cries reaching for him and his heart breaks.

“She has a fever, is dehydrated and she hit her head.” He tells the nurse. “She’s uh afraid of needles. Can I be there with her?”

The nurse nods and motions him to follow them. He does keeping his eyes on Lucy’s face. Her eyes are casted downwards. They finally get to a bed and the nurse lays her down and starts setting everything up.

Tim holds her hand rubbing it gently and kissing her forehead. “Breathe baby. I’m here.” He soothes.

She pulls his hand close to her and breathes. “Sir.” Says the nurse. “We need to put the IV in.”

Lucy makes a noise and pulls him closer. Tim sighs, and gently pulls away from her. “Lucy it’s okay. I’m right here. Just focus on me.” He says. The nurse moves so Lucy can see him and she keeps her eyes on him as she places the IV needle in. Lucy winces but then it’s in and the nurse moves away.

“We are giving her fluids and we will run an MRI to see if she has a concussion. Have her stay awake for now.” She says. “I will be back to take her back.”

Tim nods and sits in the uncomfortable chair and takes her hand. He rubs it gently, “See that wasn’t bad.” He says and she just shakes her head. He can see the color coming back and knows the fluids are helping already.

The nurse comes back and takes her for the MRI. She is gone about fifteen minutes and then she is back and Tim sighs happily as he takes her hand again. She luckily doesn’t have a concussion but they still want to monitor her.

“I’m sorry for being so stubborn.” Whispers Lucy. “I was being stupid.” Tim smoothes back her hair.

“No you weren’t Luce. You didn’t feel well. You weren’t thinking straight. I’m sorry for snapping at you.” He says. She reaches out to touch his face a small smile on her face.

“You took care of me.” She says. “The best husband ever.”

Tim snorts. “I hope I’m your only husband.” He says teasingly. And she grins up at him her true smile finally returning.

“Maybe you are. Maybe I have one or two hidden somewhere.” She says and Tim laughs as he kisses her hand over and over again.

“Funny.” He says. She grins at him and runs his fingers through his hair.

“The best husband ever and the one I love the most.” She mutters. “I do love you Tim.”

“Mmm love you too Luce.” He says. “Now get some sleep. I will be here when you wake up.”

“Yeah I know. Cause you love me.” She mutters as her eyes close. And yes. Yes he does love her. Very much so.

***

Lucy wakes up and pokes Tim awake a smile on her face. “Hey.” He whispers. “How do you feel?”

She shrugs. “Better but I feel like a truck ran over me.” She says. “But I am starving.” Tim pulls a paper bag out. “Veggie burgers with fries and extra pickles? Done.” Tears fill Lucy’s eyes as she stares at him.

Tim reaches forward and wipes her tears from her face. “I love you Luce. I hate when you are sick and in pain. If I could take even an ounce of it I would.” He says. Lucy just shakes her head and motions him to come closer. She opens her mouth to say something and then closes it and instead settles on kissing him. He kisses her back although it’s slow and soft and it’s everything he needs. It’s everything he will ever need. And he’s so happy he will always have Lucy to take care of and love on for the rest of his life.

He kisses Lucy’s forehead softly as leans back and watches her eat, the life and color coming back to her.

Yes this was perfect.

#chenford #the rookie #tim bradford #tim x lucy #lucy chen #chenford fanfic #chenford fic #anon answered

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 years ago

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Pairing : Yandere!Yang Jeongin x F!Reader TW : yandere behavior ; reader saying she wants to die ; Jeongin yelling ; but also Jeongin positive-ish character development ; he's more secretive with his craziness now ; smut ; PiV intercourse ; cameo appearance by Hyunjin ; mainly fluffy though ; Word Count : 6.9k

Hyunjin had been quick, quicker than Jeongin thought he would be in tracking your phone. Even with the device completely dismantled and strewn about the city, he had found someone that was able to figure out exactly where your last text was sent from. Jeongin hadn’t thought that it would be possible, but he had been on edge, so he had moved you out of the house momentarily, putting you up in a hotel for a bit, at least until he figured out what was going on.

The hotel in itself was something that had excited you, finally being out of the house after two years, it was like going on a little vacation even though the hotel was right down the street and you were only staying there because you had been stupid enough to text Hyunjin. Those were Jeongins words, not yours, and he had apologized profusely immediately after saying them, excusing it as being so scared to lose you that he had let the words slip.

There were a few perks that came along with Hyunjin knowing that Jeongin loved you too, and that was his hyung telling him every single bit of information that he found out. Whenever Hyunjin got one step closer, Jeongin would move you five steps further away. When Hyunjin announced that whoever he was working with had finally been able to pinpoint the location that you had sent your last text from, there was no panicking on Jeongins part, only a false sense of excitement, knowing that he had already moved you somewhere else, you were already living in a different home, and now no one would be able to find you.

“Starry~~~” Jeongin called out, running out of the bedroom to find you in the kitchen making breakfast. You seemed a lot happier in the new home, free of the painful memories that the previous four walls had held. There was no basement, at least not one that would be used for anything other than storing the seasonal wardrobe swap or holiday decorations. This would be a normal home for the two of you, and he was hoping that he’d be able to have a normal relationship with you now. “You left the bedroom without waking me…” He whispered once he was close enough, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck.

The roles had been reversed drastically, the table turned 180 degrees, and now he was being clingy. The feelings weren’t reciprocated well, and he knew that it was because you were still dealing with the emotions that he had stirred up inside you with the words that he had said. It would take more than a few I love you’s to heal the wound that he had caused, but he was willing to do anything to get you back, to get back the clingy you that he thought that he hated, the clingy and loving you that he missed so much now.

“I’m making breakfast.” Your voice was so monotonous, it was almost scary if it weren’t for the fact that it made him so sad. You truly lacked any other emotions aside from the robotic one that seemed to be a constant for you. “You could have slept in. I would have woken you when I was done.” The fact that you didn’t even turn around, you didn’t even turn your head to face him when you talked, you still doubted him, you were still scared of him, and it only made him hate himself more for sparking those feelings within you. He would do everything and anything to get rid of them, to nullify those feelings entirely.

His fingers lightly squeezed your hips as he kissed along your neck, trying to draw out any kind of reaction, but you didn’t do anything, you didn’t make a single sound, you simply continued to make breakfast as if he wasn’t even there. “You know that I can’t sleep without you beside me, starry… I can tell when you’re gone.” He tried to not let your lack of literally anything bother him, he knew that it was his fault. You were stuck with him though, that much he made sure of, and he was sure that you knew that as well. At some point you’d come around. You couldn’t be like this forever.

“I apologize.” Was all you said as you grabbed the plate that had been set beside the stove, filling it with the food that you had been making before breaking free of his hold and setting the plate at his side of the table. You spoke so… strangely, he hated it so much. It wasn’t even like he was talking to you anymore, it was like talking to a robot and the only thing that let him know that you were still human was the warmth of your skin when he touched it. “What would you like to drink with your breakfast, Jeongin?”

You didn’t use the little nickname that he loved hearing you say either, opting to use his government name now, and the sound of it leaving your lips had his stomach twisting with disgust. It sounded awful, it was weird, and he’d give anything to hear you call him Innie again. “I can get the drinks, just get your food and take a seat, starry.” He was doing his best, but even his best didn’t seem good enough. Still, you never said no to him, almost like you were too scared to. When you finally turned in the direction of the table though, your head immediately dropped, refusing to look at him. It had been so long since he had actually seen your eyes, seen the sparkle in them that earned you the nickname that he gave you. “It’s my day off… What do you want to do today?” Your shoulders shrugged as you slumped over the plate, scraping the contents around the edges until there was a bare spot in the center. Anything… He’d do anything to make you happy, to show you that he really did love you, that there was no reason for any doubt.

“It’s cleaning day. I have to do the laundry and vacuum.” You said, almost like you were reading from a script, but what it truly felt like, was you were making excuses, any reason that you could find to not spend time with him. He couldn’t let it continue on like this, there was only so much that he could handle before it drove him absolutely batshit. He needed your love, he needed your attention. He’ll never stop hating himself for what he did, for causing you to be like this, and he’d never stop trying to get you back.

He scoffed playfully, setting both of your drinks down on the table before dropping down in his chair across from you. “Forget about cleaning for today. Spend time with me. We can do anything you want to do!” As long as it wasn’t meeting up with Hyunjin, but he was certain that you wouldn’t ever mention that name in the house again. “Do you want to go to the movies? We can go out to dinner and see a movie, or we can just go sightseeing. It’s whatever you want to do today, starry.”

Now, leaving the safety of the house was a big deal, and it posed a lot of potential negative outcomes. If anyone saw you and remembered that you were missing, there would be a lot of trouble. If anyone saw him, it would lead to a lot of media coverage and that would mean you being seen as well. All of it could backfire, but he loved you, he loved you so much, and he was willing to go through the extra efforts to make sure none of that happened, to make sure you were happy.

“We never leave the house.” You muttered, finally dropping your fork down to look at him, and the look in your eyes… It was like you were dead, it was heartbreaking. He had caused that, he had caused all of this. “So please, let me clean. It’s the only thing that makes me even slightly happy now.” You pushed your chair back, grabbing your plate off the table and scraping it into the trash can before turning on the sink.

You were making it impossible, it’s like you didn’t even want him to try anymore. He was trying so hard to swallow back his irritation, but there was only so much that he could do. “Well what do you want me to do?! I’m trying… I’m trying and you just… It’s like you don’t love me anymore, like you don’t want to be loved by me anymore.” He huffed loudly, pushing away from the table himself and walking over to you. “Well, I’m sorry… But you’re not getting rid of me, and I’m not letting you go. So what. Do you want to do today?”

His hand came down on the faucet, turning off the water, his silence demanding your attention as he stood next to you. “God… You’re really annoying, you know that, right?” You grumbled, and those words would have pissed him off if anyone else said them, if you had said them before everything that happened, but he knew that you were just… quoting him… and that’s why, instead of pissing him off, they only made him more upset with himself. “I don’t care what we do. I don’t care about what you do. I don’t care about anything anymore. I’m just waiting to die at this point because I know you won’t let me do anything else.”

A loud groan sounded from his chest as his hands ran over his face. “Why are you so fucking morbid?! Can’t you see that I’m trying to fix things? I know that what I did, what I said was wrong… I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before moving closer to you, his hands landing on your waist. “Go get ready. I’m taking you out… Okay? Please… Let me try.”

The potential of you getting better, of finally seeing you smile again, of finally seeing those stars twinkle in your eyes once more, completely outweighed the risk of leaving the house with you. Jeongin would make sure to take you somewhere that he knew you and him wouldn’t be recognized, where he wouldn’t get any unwanted attention, where you wouldn’t be seen.

Now, he didn’t know where he was taking you, he didn’t know the first thing that he was going to do once he had you out of the house. Planning dates wasn’t something that he was good at, it had always been your thing, but you were less than communicative and you didn’t even seem to want to go out anyway.

“Starry, are you done?” Jeongin asked, standing outside the bedroom door, half expecting for it to open and you be standing there in your pajamas just to ruin his plans even more, but when you pulled the door open and he saw you, he was shocked to find you at least partially done up. It wasn’t the way you would usually look, not when he had first gotten with you, but it was better than what he thought you’d be wearing.

You donned his hoodie that seemed to swallow you entirely, the bagginess hiding your frame, billowing around you almost like a dress. “Done.” You said flatly, walking past him without another word, going straight to the front door. The sight of you wearing his hoodie would have made him happy if it weren’t for the fact that he knew you didn’t exactly have anything else to wear. He had trashed all of your own hoodies in a fit of anger when you had started wearing your own clothes once again. He hated the sight of it, how independent it made you look, how it made him feel like you were pulling away from him. He had to get rid of everything that was your own, it would make you more his if all that you had was his.

Now seeing you in the hoodie, it hurt even more, it only made the shallowness of your eyes and your face more prominent with the bagginess of the garment. It made him more aware of how much you hadn’t been eating, how much you had reverted back to the mindset of the basement, something that he hated to look back on or even partially remember. It gave him an idea though, the first stop for the outing. He’d make you love him again, he would… This had to work.

He knew that it would be hard, that it would take a great amount of persistence on his end to reach the goal, but he hadn’t assumed just how hard it would truly be. The entire ride to the restaurant was silent, and although it had been a while since you had sat in the passenger seat of his car, he could remember the evenings that you’d look at him lovingly, the radio turned up as you both belted out the lyrics to your favorite songs. This car ride was nothing like that. You managed to sit as far away from him as humanly possible in the small sedan, your body pressed up against the door and your head leaning against the window as you stared out of it with the emptiest eyes.

The restaurant was empty, it was the restaurant that you had had your first official date at, the inside hadn’t changed in the two years since you’ve been there, and as the host walked the two of you to the table that you had once sat at, Jeongin scanned your eyes for any sign of a spark, but there was nothing, not yet at least. “Do you remember, starry? This was our seat…” He said, maybe a little too excitedly as he rushed over to pull your chair out for you. His excitement didn’t match your emotions at all, it made him feel out of place beside you and he hated that. The only place he wanted to be was beside you, but you were making it uncomfortable for him. Dammit.

“Yes.” Was all you said as you lowered yourself into the chair, nodding your head to the host who slipped the menu in front of you and Jeongin before walking away. “I’m not hungry though…” You muttered, sliding the menu away from you and then resting your chin in the palm of your hand as your eyes scanned the pictures that lined the walls. He was about to respond when he saw something, it was the smallest something, but it was there. A shimmer in your eye and a twitch of your nose, the slight hollowing of your cheeks as you looked around. You were getting choked up, and that meant that you were feeling something, and that was a step up from the nothing that you seemed to feel back at the house and the entire way to the restaurant.

“I remember everything, you know?” He whispered, wanting so badly to reach out and grab your hand, to hold it tight in his own and reassure you that he loved you, that he’d only ever love you, but maybe it was too soon for that, maybe it would upset you, revert you back to feeling nothing if he moved too soon. He wanted you to keep feeling, even though he wasn’t sure exactly what that feeling was. “I remember all of our dates, every single day that I spent with you… I remember it all.”

Your eyes dropped down to the table as your head shook, like you didn’t want to believe him, or maybe you actually didn’t believe him at all. He’d make you believe him though, he’d make you believe that he loves you more than anything in the world, that you’re the most important person in the entire universe to him. The waiter came over, a smile on his face as he looked down at you, and for the first time since he had left the house with you, he was happy for your look of disinterest, happy at the fact that you didn’t even seem to want to look at anyone. The waiter definitely had eyes for you, eyes that lingered a little too long on you which had Jeongin heating up with anger, but he pushed it down, not wanting to upset you or ruin his day out with you, so he cleared his throat, demanding the attention of the man.

“We’ll order everything right now.” Jeongin said, collecting the menus and trying his best to be polite as he handed them back to the man. This was his first chance, the first test, the first opportunity to show you that he was being honest in everything that he had told you. He ordered his own food and drink first and then seamlessly slipped in your order, getting you the same exact thing that you had gotten on your first date, even down to the drink without any ice cubes in it. He beamed proudly up at the waiter who was none the wiser to what would make Jeongin so excited, but Jeongin had seen the look on your face, the way your jaw seemed to settle and your eyes seemed to soften.

“What are you trying to prove, Innie?” There it was, that name that he had been waiting to hear for so long that it had him melting in his chair, tears forming in his own eyes at the sound of it. Tears that matched yours, and if sat side by side, your eyes would align to create a beautiful, twinkling galaxy that would be unmatched by even the Milky Way itself. “Why are you going through all this trouble?”

He quickly shook his head, finally taking the moment to grab your hands, and for the first time, you didn’t pull away, letting your fingers go lax in his palms as you stared at him. “It’s not trouble for me at all, starry. I’m doing it because I want you to know that I love you… I only love you… And I’d do anything to prove that to you.” His own hands were shaky, he was nervous, it truly felt like the first date all over again as his thumb brushed against the back of your hand. “Do you remember… the place we went camping… And you were scared because you thought you heard a bear…” Your nose scrunched up, but there was a twitch at the corner of your lips and a wavering in your eyes, like you were trying not to smile, fighting it back, trying to keep up the facade of being emotionless. “But it was just a bunny… And I-”

“-you teased me about it for hours… Until I just… Kissed you to shut you up.” You remembered too, of course you did. It was his and your first kiss, one that he had felt butterflies in his stomach from for days afterwards when he looked back on it. “What does that have to do with anything though?” You tacked on to the end, and now those butterflies were back as he brought your clasped hands up to his lips, kissing along your fingers and looking up at you through his eyelashes just to watch your reaction.

“We’re going back there… After we eat… I want to relive those moments with you. I want things to be the way they used to be… Before…” But he saw you wince at the memories that followed after the cute dates, the memories of when he had lost his mind in a burst of jealousy that lasted years. “Don’t think about that… Only now… Only when we first got together, okay starry? Please?”

Your bottom lip was drawn in between your teeth, gnawing on it nervously, but you ultimately gave in, nodding your head with a sigh. He still had you, of course he did, but he was going to have you the way he had you before, before Hyunjin had ruined everything, before everything had gone wrong. He’d make you forget that all of that ever happened, he’d erase those memories from your mind and replace them with only happy thoughts and happy moments to look back on and smile about.

Dinner went a lot better than he thought it would, and by a lot better, he means that it went amazingly. You actually talked to him, and even after plates had been cleared of the food they had been delivered with, he and you sat there for hours just talking and reminiscing about days that seemed like distant dreams. You had smiled the rest of the time, so much that he had even gotten the opportunity to tease you about the small cramp you had gotten in your cheeks from smiling so much.

It was time to enact phase two now. You were willingly talking to him, smiling at him, laughing with him, you were even letting him hold your hands, but he wanted to see just how far he could go, how much you were actually willing to let him do before you stopped him. He was still on edge, not sure whether things would go right back to the way they were before he had gotten you out of the house, he needed to make sure that that part of you was long gone and never to return again.

“So… we’re going camping?” You asked as you climbed into the passenger seat of the car. He shouldn’t have been shocked, it was only normal, but the fact that you were starting the conversation on your own had him feeling far more giddy than he’d ever admit. Jeongins head nodded quickly in agreement as he settled into his own seat, pulling the keys out of his pocket and pushing it into the ignition. “I don’t see the tent… and what about the food and stuff that we need?”

That was another side of you that he’d never forget, the side of you that thought about every single aspect of every little thing. The tent made sense, but you wanted to be sure that the two of you had everything that you’d need for the night, and that too reminded him of the first time you had gone camping together. “If you remember… we had to go-”

“-to the store…” You finished his sentence, and he couldn’t help his own smile from forming at it, at the fact that you were not only talking to him once again, but finishing his sentences like you once did before during lazy afternoons while entwined with one another. “You take forever at the store though. It took you like, two hours to pick a tent.”

Jeongin snorted loudly, shaking his head before pulling out into the road, heading towards the super store to get everything that the two of you would need. “Well I had to make sure I got the right one. I can’t have my starry sleeping in anything less than luxury.” He professed, watching you roll your eyes out of the corner of his own. “What? Are you gonna say I’m wrong?”

“Yes! We’re still sleeping on a box spring mattress when we could be resting on a memory foam mattress.” His mouth jokingly fell open in fake shock from your jab at the mattress, but honestly, the only reason he even kept it still was because the memories that the bed held, all of them pertaining to you, and he was just far too obsessed with you and everything that had to do with you to get rid of it. “I’ll probably get better sleep in the tent tonight.”

“I’ll make sure you do.” He said lightly, but he couldn’t fight back the smirk that spread across his face, the innuendo hidden in his simple statement wasn’t brushed over either, and your eyes went wide as your head whipped over to look at him. “What?!” He played innocent, tsking his tongue at you. “You’ve got such a dirty mind, starry. What were you thinking, hmm?”

Oh, how he adored when you got flustered, how he missed the way you’d stumble over your words, your eyes looking everywhere but at him as you tried to think of the right thing to say to get you off the hook. “N-Nothing… Weirdo. You’re… You’re the dirty one… nasty… ew.” You rambled out the words, but he only found you more precious the more you tried to backtrack.

Truthfully though, his mind was right where yours was, having not ventured there in months. He hadn’t been able to touch you or kiss you, he had been calling himself lucky for even being able to lay beside you with pillows between both of your bodies at night. Still, he wasn’t sure how far he’d make it with you, but he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t hoping that he’d be able to be with you in that way again tonight.

“Do you hear that?” You whispered, laying on your back in the tent, staring up through the small window on the roof, your hands folded over your stomach. You were comfortable, he could tell. Your body wasn’t stiff or tense like it had been the night before when he had laid beside you. He shook his head in response, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you smiled sweetly, your eyes scanning the sky as if you were counting the stars in the sky, but Jeongin was too busy looking at their reflection in your eyes. “Neither do I… It’s so quiet…”

He scoffed at your words before propping himself up on his elbow so he could look down at you, a rosy hue tinting his cheeks. “I missed this…” He murmured, his eyes trained on your face to catch any reaction you might have. “I missed you.” His free hand landed on your waist, and his eyes never left yours, as if waiting for some silent queue from your expressions that you didn’t want this, that you wanted him to stop.

He could tell when you were flustered, your face, your mannerisms, you were so easy to read, and when your eyes quickly darted away from him and you bit the inside of your cheeks, he knew that you didn’t mind it. “You say that as if I’ve been gone…” You said hoarsely, your voice getting caught in the back of your throat, and you quickly swallowed, followed by a shaky breath.

He smirked as he shifted himself so he was right above you, his beautiful brown irises capturing yours as his hand cautiously inched down to your hip. “You have been gone… But now I have you back… My perfect starry…” His gaze, his voice, everything about him grew softer the longer he spoke until his voice was barely that of a whisper, and his face drew closer and closer until his nose was pressed against yours. “Are you cold?”

Your shiver didn’t go unnoticed, and he was about to get up, grab the blanket that had been neatly folded in the corner to cover you up with, but your hands reached out, your fingers wrapping tightly around his arms, your nails almost digging into his biceps as you shook your head. “Not cold…” You murmured, your tongue darting across your bottom lip that had become slightly chapped from your parted lipped breathing. “I just… I missed you too…”

Those words stunned him into silence, his eyes blinking rapidly as he stared at you. If you missed him, why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you do anything? It was confusing, but he decided that he wasn’t going to question it now, he’d ask all about it later. Not a second was wasted, his lips crashing against your own as his body fell on top of you, wanting to get as close to you as possible, his hands scavenging your body as if it were the first time he had ever gotten to touch you, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you gasped. The butterflies in his stomach had settled, the feeling of their wings fluttering had been replaced with one much stronger, a feeling that had warmth spreading through his body, his mind going blank, and his pants growing tighter all at once.

“Innie…” You whimpered once he had pulled back, the both of you gasping for air as you looked at each other with lust filled, lidded eyes and dilated pupils. Your hands tugged at the hem of his shirt and your bottom lip jutted out just slightly to show your impatience. God, he truly was obsessed with you, everything about you, the smallest expressions, every single word you said he breathed in like it was oxygen for him.

You were just as impatient as him, your back already arching off the floor as you yanked at his shirt even harder, the sound of the fabric stretching heard between both of your heavy breathing. “I know, baby… I know…” He wanted to take his time, take the chance to truly show you how much you meant to him, how devoted he was to you, but he was growing more and more impatient by the second as well, and who was he to make you wait. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make himself wait.

Both of your hands made quick work of ridding each other of your clothes, a pile thrown aimlessly into the corner of the tent. The lowlight of the moon that seemed to hang just right in the sky above the small window in the roof was perfect, basking you in its soft glow that illuminated your skin so flawlessly he would have thought it was done on purpose.

“You’re so beautiful, starry, you’re all mine…” He cooed as his hands caressed along your dips and curves leaving goosebumps in their trail, only stopping when he reached your hips, his eyes finally looking between your legs that had been opened so welcomingly for him to slip between. “You’re… Already so wet…” He mused, feeling his body grow hotter, his cock twitching from the sight of just how slick you were.

No matter how many times he was with you, he always felt so shy, and seeing you beneath him, sprawled out for him and only him, he was always so nervous that he would mess up. It’s not like you’d ever go to anyone else, he’d never allow that, but he wanted to know that he was good enough for you, that he made you feel as good as you made him feel. “Want you… Need you, Innie… Please…” You whispered words caught off his train of thought, your fingers gliding lightly down his chest and along his abs until the tips of them brushed along the length of his cock, sending an electric feeling up his spine that had him moving almost immediately.

“I’m here… You have me…” And you always would, but he knew that’s not what you meant, at least not right now. It took everything in him to hold back, to keep from just slamming right into you because, as much as he wanted you and as much as you wanted him, he wanted to be gentle with you, he wanted to love you, truly love you.

He slid his tip between your folds, admiring just how sensitive you were, just how receptive your body was from just the lightest touch. Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered shut, and as he stroked your juices along his cock, he swore he could have cum right then and there from the sight of it alone. “Want to feel you… Innie~~” You whined, your hands gripping onto his arms and pulling him down to you. Of course he never would have forgotten being with you, but he seemed to have forgotten the tiny bit where you were so impatient, so needy, and now that he did remember, it only made him love you more.

With his hand wrapped tightly around his shaft, he lined himself up with your entrance, his chest rising and falling heavily as he pushed himself in, already feeling you stretch around just his tip. You were so tight, and he knew that if he moved too soon, if he didn’t give himself a moment to adjust to the feeling, he’d finish before even beginning. “F-Fuck… Starry…” He whimpered, his head falling forward and his bangs curtaining his features. “Just… need a second…”

His forehead pressed against yours as he kissed you repeatedly, his arms shaking as he tried to keep himself from dropping on top of you. “Are you okay?” You whispered, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, your touch was so warm, so soft, he couldn’t help but lean into it as he nodded slowly, his eyes closing slightly as he took a deep breath.

“Mmhm…” He hummed just for good measure, turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand before pressing a quick peck to your lips. “Sorry…” The word was mumbled out, a quick apology for making you wait, but he didn’t give you time to respond before pushing into you, the feeling of your walls enveloping his cock, it was so warm, it was like an immediate high that he could only reach when he was with you like this.

Your mouth fell slack and your eyes practically rolled back as he bottomed out inside of you, a breathy gasp escaping you. “Shit…” You breathed out the word, your hands falling against his back, your nails digging into his skin to pull him closer. “Forgot how good you felt…”

“Oh?” He posed, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at you. How could you forget? Was he not good enough to remember? Had you been angry enough with him that you forgot everything? It didn’t matter, no… He’d make sure you never forget, that the feeling of him inside of you is something that’s ingrained in your mind forever. “You’ll remember… You will remember…”

He pulled back slowly, smiling smugly down at you before his hips snapped forward, eliciting the most beautiful moan from you, the sound mixed with a choked off scream as he repeated the movement, the head of his cock reaching the deepest part of you. “I-Innie!” You screamed out his name as he kept going, his thrusts were hard, ruthless, yet still filled with love at the same time.

Your legs were already beginning to shake as every pull of his hips had him brushing against that particular spot that was like a one way ticket to cloud nine. “Never forget this… Never forget the way I feel, the way I make you feel. No one else can make you feel this good, right?” Your head nodded, then shook, then nodded again, your mind completely fogged. “Aww, is my little starry gonna cum? Hmm?”

There were tears forming in the corners of your eyes that he quickly kissed away before they could fall, but your body was shaking so much, he knew that you were holding back, trying to prove a point to him which he only found to be even more adorable. “N-No… Don’t stop…” You gasped, your eyes squeezed shut before your lips drew into a thin line, turning your face away from him. How could someone be so freaking cute? He asked himself that every single day when he saw you, he still couldn’t grasp it. What he did know though is that he was lucky as hell to have you, for you to be all his.

“Won’t stop, starry… Won’t stop till you’re cumming…” He breathed out the words, his hips working nonstop, slamming into you so hard that your body was moving up with each thrust until the top of your head was pressed against the wall of the tent, but neither of you cared, and he truly wasn’t going to stop.

A few more thrusts though and you were sent over the edge, whimpering incoherently as you gripped onto him as tight as you could. Your walls sucked him in, the feeling of them tightening and pulsing around his cock as your body shook beneath him had his orgasm rushing over him like a wave, his body crashing down on top of you and his face being buried in your neck to muffle his moans, and his hips continued to roll against you to ride out his own high.

“This isn’t how I remember the camping trip ending the first time we went…” You teased, the words coming out breathlessly as your hands moved up to brush through his hair, your lips pressing swift kisses to the top of his head. All he could do was chuckle, trying his best not to get too relaxed from your touch, from the soothing sound of your heart thrumming right beneath his ear, it was enough to have him slipping in and out of sleep.

“I love you, starry…” He murmured, nestling closer against your skin, wanting to bask in the warmth of it, inhale the scent of you, having not had you for so long that he worried that as soon as the two of you got back home you’d go back to how you were. He didn’t want to let a single second go to waste. “I always will… I’ll never stop loving you as long as I live…”

You sat on the couch, your legs laid over Jeongins lap as his fingers aimlessly walked up and down them while you flipped through channels on the television. Ever since the camping trip two weeks ago everything had been perfect, even more than perfect actually. Things seemed almost… normal. More normal than they had ever been, and he could tell that you were settling into things now, and there seemed to be a constant smile on your face. Not just that, but you greeted him with hugs and a kiss now whenever he walked through the front door, the way you used to, something that he had missed dearly.

There was a quick rap at the door and you craned your head over the back of the couch to look at it before looking at Jeongin, your eyebrows raised with confusion, but even he was confused about what it could be, who it could be. Nobody knew where he lived, no one except the managers, but he had told them not to tell anyone, and he hadn’t ordered anything and he knew you hadn’t gotten anything either. “I’ll check it… Go wait in the bedroom, okay?” He whispered, taking a moment to appreciate the fact that you had already begun to get up so you could go there, a certain look of fear in your eyes from the unknown of what was behind the door. “I’ll be quick.” He reassured you, kissing your cheek before playfully smacking your ass, smiling to himself as he watched you disappear through the doorway of the bedroom before making his way to the front door.

He had barely even gotten it unlocked, let alone had the chance to pull it open before it was being pushed, the doorknob slamming against the wall behind it and his eyes going wide as he stumbled back. “You… You had her!” There was no way… He couldn’t have found out… He didn’t have the address, he didn’t have anything. “You had her the whole time! What did you do to her?! What did you do!?’

Hyunjin was beyond angry, but his face was already stained with tear streaks as if he had been crying the entire way there. “H-Hyung… I…” Jeongin had prepared everything, he had planned out everything… But he hadn’t been ready for this… He hadn’t prepared to actually be found. That’s when Hyunjin pulled out his phone and shoved it in his face, the picture bright and crystal clear, it was you and Jeongin going through the store, his hand in yours, and there was no doubt about who it was… The only question now was who had taken it.

“You sat back and watched me worry, you pretended to care for two and a half years! It took this for me to find out that you had her the whole fucking time!” He shoved Jeongin back even further, watching with crazed eyes as he fell to the floor. “Where is she, huh?! Where is she?!” And Jeongin didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know the first thing to do. Everything had just returned to the greatest normal it had ever been, and now Hyunjin had come to fuck everything up… This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

“Hyunjin?” Your voice called softly from the hallway, and they both whipped their heads in your direction, and Jeongin felt like he had been punched in the gut, watching the stars twinkle in your eyes, the fear that the man who stood over him now was going to steal the stars out of his sky. He wasn’t going to lose you, not now, not ever… He’d do whatever it takes… Whatever it takes to keep you with him.

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years ago

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Saul Silva x Student!reader - soft side

Can you do one where student Reader finds an injured magical baby animal and takes it to Saul once they heal it and Saul tells her that he won't be taking care of it, but as soon as the Reader is out if earshot Saul is baby talking to the animal, cuddling into its fur. - Anon 💜

A/N: I have no clue what magical animals they have so I made one up :)

You were just walking around while you had some time after class when you heard the pained noises and you frowned, looking around.

Activating your magic, you looked around to try and pinpoint where the pained noises were coming from and you finally found it behind some bushes.

Walking over, you knelt down in front of the small looking creature and reached up and it looked up in fear trying to shuffled away.

“Hey, hey it’s okay..” you whispered.

It whimpered and you placed your hand on it, taking the edge of its pain.

“What are you?”

You’d never seen such a creature, it looked like a bear cub, but it had antler like a stag would.

You pulled your hand away and saw the blood and you panicked a little bit, reaching out, you carefully picked it up and walked out of the bushes.

You quickly walked back to the school, holding the creature closing, making soothing noises at it.

“And what are we sneaking into the school?”

You jumped a little, turning around.

“Headmaster Silva I.. I need help!”

He walked over and looked at the creature in your hands.

“Follow me.”

He quickly walked away and you had to jog in order to keep up with his fast pace.

He led you to his office and got you to put the animal in the table and he quickly got to working on treating its wound and you stood watching anxiously.

“Where did you find him?”

“Behind some bushes, it’s a him?”

“Only males have antlers, but I’m not sure what it is.” He said.

You nodded and watched him treat the wound and wrap and bandage around it and he looked up at you.

“We’re not keeping it, we’re putting it back.”

“But it’s hurt sir!”

“It’ll heal in a few hours.”

“Sir please! we can’t leave him out there.”

He looked at you, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at the now sleeping animal.

“I won’t be looking after it.”

“I will! Please sir! Let me keep him!”

Silva sighed, walking around his office as he gathered a few more things.

“You know the rules (Y/N), and as a fairy I’m not the one you should be asking.”

“Please! He’s so cute! And he obviously isn’t safe out there, if you put him out there I’ll go out there to.”

You huffed, and he chuckled a little at how stubborn you were being.

“Talk to Farah, but I mean it, I’m not looking after it.”

“Thank you! I’ll be back!”

You ran out and he sighed, setting the stuff on his desk as he turned his attention to the little creature.

Sitting at his desk, he reached out, ruffling the fur on the animals head and he let out a small noise of content.

Silva smiled a little.

“Well you’re just adorable…” he mumbled.

The animal perked up at his voice, lifting it’s head for more scratches.

“You’re adorable, yes you are. Yes.”

He quickly looked to his door to make sure no one was there and carried on.

He was the specialists headmaster, he couldn’t get caught baby talking to a baby animal, but it was just so adorable he couldn’t help it.

He wanted Farah to agree to let you keep the creature, because truth be told he was absolutely adorable, with eyes that could melt even the coldest of stone hearts

#fate the winx saga imagine #fate the winx saga x you #fate the winx saga x reader #fate the winx saga #saul silva #saul silva x you #saul silva imagine #saul silva x reader

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 year ago

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Memoriam: Part Four

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Summary: Spencer is investigating the death of his “imaginary friend” that’s not so imaginary. On the other hand, you’re finding out more about your family than you thought you knew. Why are you now getting the ick when you never had this before? What does it all mean?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice."

"Well, I'm always happy to assist the FBI. Is there a witness you want me to look at?"

"Yeah. Me. I'm trying to recover memories from my childhood. There was a murder."

"How long ago are we talking about?"

"I was four."

"Memories from that age can be difficult to interpret," Jan sighs.

"I'm aware of the limitations of hypnotherapy."

"Then you're aware of suggestion issues. If you've looked into this case, you may have a bias."

"Are you saying what he remembers under hypnosis may not be real?" you ask.

"It's a possibility. Either way, it's a tough sell in court."

"We won't be using this for evidentiary purposes. It's really just for me. The suppressed memories are about my father."

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to be here to watch."

"You want to sit in? I don't normally allow that."

"I want her here, please."

"You won't even know I'm here."

Jan brings you and Spencer to a better room for this kind of thing. Spencer lies down on the couch, and you sit on the single sofa away from them to give them space.

"I want you to hold my wrist in your left hand, and if you should feel any fear, I want you to squeeze, do you understand?"

"Yes."

Spencer looks over at you to make sure you're still there, and you give him a small smile to let him know he is going to be okay. Spencer rests his head on the pillow and closes his eyes to focus on Jan's voice.

"Go back to the night you were just telling me about. You're at home, in your room. You can't sleep because your parents are arguing."

"He's coming in."

"Who?"

"My dad."

"What about him, Spencer? What is he doing?"

"I don't want to be here," he says fearfully.

Spencer's fear is enough to roll over to you, and you grip the edges of the armrests. Tears pool in your eyes, but you have to tell yourself this isn't your fear. Spencer is hurting, and you can't do anything but sit back and watch.

"It's okay, Spencer. Take us to where the light is, to the next morning. The sun is coming up. Where are you, Spencer?"

"Mom? My mom. She's at the window. She's thinking. She's been crying. She saw him."

"Who? Your father? Do you talk to her?"

"No. No, I wanna--I wanna see..."

Spencer squeezes her arm tightly, signaling that he doesn't want to do this anymore. He is full-on panicking right now, and you need this to end.

"What is it, Spencer? What are you seeing?"

"No, you need to stop this. Please," you beg and rush over to Spencer. "He doesn't want to do this anymore!"

"I need you to leave this location now, Spencer."

"Wake him up!"

"I'm going to count backward from five. Five, four, three, two, one, and wake."

Spencer jerks awake, and you put a hand on his forehead to let him know you're here. He is this close to crying, and it breaks your heart into two.

"Spencer, baby, it's okay. I'm here. You're okay. What happened? What did you see?"

"I need to talk to my mom," he pants.

"Okay, let's go. Thank you, Jan."

"My pleasure."

The only person who might be able to help is his mother. Diana knows something, but because of her illness, it's not going to be easy. Spencer saw his mother with bloody clothes on, and then he saw his dad in the backyard burning those same clothes. They know something, and they're not telling. Diana keeps saying the same thing whenever Spencer tries to ask her about it, and this is no different.

"Try to remember, Mom," Spencer begs.

"No, I can't."

"You were there. You watched Dad burn the bloody clothes."

"You had a dream."

"Mom, this was not a dream. This was a memory. It was a memory and I saw you."

"Your mind is such a treasure," she admires. "Even as a baby, you knew about things you weren't supposed to know."

"This is not about me. This is about Riley Jenkins."

"It was always about you."

"Please, mom. Please, just try to remember. Remember Riley."

"Riley? Riley was real. Oh, poor Riley," she gasps sadly.

"Yes, poor Riley. Did Dad do something to him?"

"Dad? No."

"Think, Mom," Spencer says, getting a bit frustrated with her.

"No, no. That's--no, no. Now you're confusing me, Spencer."

"You knew. You knew about Dad, and you didn't do anything."

Something snaps inside Diana's mind, and she starts freaking the fuck out. She starts slamming her hands to her head, and if someone doesn't stop her soon, she will hurt herself.

"No! You don't know! No! No!"

Doctors and nurses rush in as soon as they hear her, and one of the nurses has a sedative that will calm her down easily. Spencer hates seeing his mom this way, and he hates that you're seeing this.

"I'm just going to give you something to relax."

"No... it could have been you," she whispers painfully.

"What? What did you say?" Spencer asks.

"It could have been you."

You two leave to give her some time to calm down, and Derek and Rossi are waiting outside of the building for you two to return. Spencer is too distraught to speak, so you tell Rossi and Derek what happened.

"She's not stable, Reid. You can't put stock in what she says. I don't need to tell you that," Derek sighs. "I don't need to tell you this is textbook. Father reroutes compulsion to molest away from his own son to a surrogate. The woman thought Riley was an imaginary friend until you told her otherwise. That's the mind's way of suppressing memories she doesn't want to face. You're losing objectivity here, kid."

"I'm not trying to say I know what happened or how my dad's involved, Morgan, but my dad's involved."

"He didn't kill him, Spencer. I've looked many murderers in the eyes, even the ones who were trying to hide what they did. Your dad didn't murder or molest Riley."

Spencer looks at you with a look of betrayal, and you can't help but feel bad about this. He needs an answer, so he turns to the one person who makes the most sense, which is also the person who abandoned him. There are underlying issues between him and his dad that go beyond what's at stake here.

Spencer is still hell-bent that his dad has something to do with this, so he drags you, Rossi, and Derek to the same police station that Detective Hyde is in. If anyone is going to help Spencer, it's the detective who was on the case originally.

When you get to the police station, you see Lou Jenkins leave. He looks over at your group before continuing on his way away from it. Spencer is confused as to why he's here, but he goes inside nonetheless to speak to Detective Hyde about holding his dad until he has more evidence against him.

"I'd like to request that you hold Will Reid and detain him until further notice."

"You got no evidence against him."

"A suspect can be detained for questioning for forty-eight hours, regardless of evidence."

"I'm not in the habit of ruining people's reputations on a whim."

"Where's your captain? I want to talk to your captain."

"Spencer," you hiss, but he doesn't pay you much mind.

"Talk all you want. This is a local murder, and your authority ends at the state line. Why don't you just head back over to the Fountain View, have a couple of drinks by the pool, and think about this."

"I have thought about this."

"This guy's your father."

"What's your point, Detective?"

"Maybe you're here to work out some other issues?"

A wave of anger washes over you that's coming from Spencer, so you put your hand on his shoulder and take over.

"Detective Hyde, I understand the circumstances here. It's not every day this happens. We'd really appreciate it if you'd help us out here."

Detective Hyde looks between you and Spencer, and you look at him with sympathetic eyes.

"You've got twenty-four hours."

"I really appreciate that. Thank you."

Before Spencer says something that will upset the detective, you and Derek pull him off to the side to speak to him privately.

"Reid. You gotta keep your head, man."

"He just agreed to it. It happens all the time."

"Spencer, he's right. You're letting your emotions get the better of you."

"That's rich coming from you," he says angrily.

You know he's not really angry at you but angry at the entire situation. It's why you'll let this comment slide. Spencer leaves the police station to get some air, and this time, you let him have his space. Derek's phone rings, and he places Pen on speakerphone once he sees it's her calling.

"Talk to me, Garcia."

"So, this Gary Michaels you asked me to track down seems to have peeled himself right off the grid."

"What did he do? Skip town?"

"Apparently. Maybe he took a new name, too. Everything in his name lapsed from non-use in the year after Riley's murder."

"Maybe he didn't want to stick around for the investigation," you suggest.

"In addition to the indecent exposure wrap, he also had some lewd behavior for trespassing at a nursery school," JJ says. "It's hard to believe the cops never pegged this guy as a suspect."

"Any other avenues to find him?"

"You betcha. They swabbed him in '85 for the exposure thing, so I'm sending up balloons through ViCAP and CODIS."

"If he's offended again over the past twenty years under a different name, and we all agree he probably has, then he will pop up somewhere."

"Alright, keep us in the loop."

"Will do."

Thanks to Detective Hyde agreeing to bring Will in, it's not long before Spencer's dad is brought in for questioning. Spencer comes back in just in time to see his dad go into an interrogation room.

"You still think he did it, don't you?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Well, for one thing, Gary Michaels fits the profile. For another, he fled town after Riley's murder. He's a better suspect than your dad, Reid."

"He's a convenient one. Someone slipped the file under my door, Morgan. What am I supposed to think?"

"Maybe they're trying to help."

"Maybe they're trying to frame him."

"Spencer, think about what you're saying. I think Derek is right here. Your dad didn't murder Riley."

"I can't believe you, of all people, are taking Derek's side on this."

"I'm not. I'm just saying--"

"Well, don't just say," he cuts you off angrily.

Why is he acting like this? He's not even listening to your side of the story.

"Reid, you're talking about someone helping to cover up the murder of a child. Who would do that?" Rossi asks, breaking the tense silence.

"Do you remember how resistant Detective Hyde was when I asked him to bring in my father?"

"So, what, you're accusing a cop now?" Derek asks.

"It was a police file."

"It was a very old police file. Anybody could have accessed it."

"He told me to go back to the Fountain View, have a drink by the pool, and think about things. I never told him we were staying at the Fountain View."

Spencer leaves the group without so much as a look at you.

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chaotic-starlight24 · 8 months ago

Text

Night, Laughter, and a Sword Chapter 4

Summary: Tallulah has a moment with Luke and the stars. And makes a big decision for the good of the children of Nyx.

Pre-TLT

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: None really, just some fluff and description of a nightmare sort of

Sorry for taking a little while and releasing it randomly! I've been busy

Previous~Next

Tallulah slowly blinked her eyes open. Moonlight shone through the main window and lit up the room. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and took a deep breath. Something made her feel much more calm at night. Something felt freeing about the darkness. Knowing it stretched everywhere and covered everything. Until something lit it up that was. She sat up against the wall and enjoyed the silence. But then she noticed some weird grunting noise. And panicked breathing.

Her eyes drifted around the room, silently laughing at Alex’s weird position, until they landed on Luke. His blanket was kicked off the bed and he was tossing and turning. His forehead was drenched in sweat. He was whispering at something, his hand drifting up to his scar. So Tallulah nimbly tiptoed towards the edge of his bed. Avoiding the campers strewn around the floor. She could see why Luke was so stressed out with his responsibilities. She hadn’t known him for very long, but she had noticed how he was constantly on his feet. Always in charge of sword training. Always attempting to tidy up the cabin, not that it worked. Always worrying about the new kids. She reached him and stopped. Everyone was still sleeping as it was midnight meaning she couldn’t make much noise. So she gently shook him awake. It took a few tries but he eventually looked up at her.

“Tallulah?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Need s’mthig?”

“No, just checking on you. You were having a nightmare or something?”

Luke stretched and sat up, “Yeah. But I’m used to it.”

“You don’t seem used to it…”

He shrugged and traced a finger down his scar, “It’s because of a-um-quest this year…”

Tallulah noticed he obviously didn’t want to talk about it and slowly led him to the window.

“I think you need a distraction.”

“Thanks, LaFlamme. I ‘preciate it.”

She softly smiled and sat down. She could name just about every constellation. They each had a different story. Luke eased down next to her and looked at the stars as well.

“I could never understand this.” He admitted.

“Huh?”

“The patterns in the stars. There’s so many of them! I can’t remember them all.” He answered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, there’s of course the zodiacs. They each represent important parts of myth.”

Luke nodded as she pointed out a couple.

“There’s Andromeda! It’s one of my favorites. She was saved from sacrifice by Perseus!”

“Cassiopeia is there!”

“Centarus is real big! It’s right over there!”

Tallulah kept rambling on and Luke kept intently listening. She didn’t notice how his gaze kept on her. (THAT’S RIGHT READERS! WE GOT A SLOWBURN!)

“They’re all beautiful. Maybe you could tell me their stories later.” Luke whispered.

Tallulah blushed. Not many people understood her love for stars. But they were all so mighty and full of fiery power. Yet they only left a small glow on the Earth. Millions of light-years away.

Luke let out a gasp. Even more light shined through the cabin, waking up all the campers. Tallulah looked up. A purple and white symbol of a star and crescent moon floated above her. Several campers stared in awe. Then it disappeared.

“You’re a child of Nyx…” Luke declared with a sad smile.

Tallulah had no idea what to think or say or do. Her mother had just claimed her. What was she supposed to do now?! Several campers came up to her and congratulated her and announced they were also children of Nyx. Most were ranging in the ages of 9-13. But Tallulah honestly felt bad. Now she was just another camper Luke would have to worry about. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another Hermes boy (Chris? Connor?) comfort Luke. He was just staring at her with glassy eyes. His fingers running up and down his scar. Alex softly patted her on the back.

“I-I’m sorry.” Tallulah apologized, her voice barely audible.

“It’s not your fault… He just has some issues with his dad…”

Those few words made her form a plan in her mind. Maybe a risky one, but a plan nonetheless. In the morning, she would enact it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I need to talk to Chiron.” Talulah stated at breakfast.

Alex glanced at her, “Not gonna ask why, but you might as well run by what you’re going to say to me.”

“No, you’ll just try to stop me.”

Alex shrugged, “That doesn’t make me feel better but you do you. He’s probably at the big house.”

Tallulah nodded with determination and quickly scarfed down her food. Then she immediately strided off. But she didn’t notice Luke trailing after her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Taylor Lafree is here!” Mr. D called out.

Tallulah bit her tongue, now wasn’t the time for sass. She needed Chiron to accept this request. For the sanity of Luke.

“Ah! Tallulah, what may I do for you?” Chiron bellowed as he made his way over the deck.

“I was claimed last night.”

“Oh! What cabin?”

“Nyx…”

“Ah so no real ca-”

“That’s what I came to talk about.” She cut him off.

She took a deep breath before starting again. Chiron gave her a surprised look, curious as to how she would continue.

“I think we should get a new cabin.” She started slowly, “Since there are plenty of Hypnos and Nyx kids. I can even be a counselor if needed! I just want to lessen the strain on Luke.”

Chiron raised an eyebrow, “That is a very large request. But I see your reasoning.”

Tallulah nodded. Maybe he would hear her out.

“But I believe Luke is handling himself quite well.”

Tallulah grimaced. How could they not see him struggling?! She had been there for 4 days now and she could already tell!

“I don’t wish to be disrespectful but he is only 17. Yet he is supposed to care for like 35 kids?! Also sword training! And normal camper duties?!”

“Well the other counselors-”

“DON’T HAVE TO CARE FOR AS MANY KIDS!”

Chiron sighed, “Alright, Alright. Just because of how many kids there are and because of your insistence I will agree. But you have to help design it. Luke and the other counselors will help train you”

Tallulah grinned and agreed quickly. She walked off satisfied.

“Wow, you care a lot, LaFlamme.”

Tallulah spun around to see Luke leaning against a building.

“Well, I also care about my siblings. They deserve a little bit of privacy. And the ability to stargaze without getting eaten.” She shrugged.

She didn’t want to admit that she cared about him. They were just friends and it was going to stay that way.

Luke handed her a crumpled list, “Here is a list of your new responsibilities. They can be a bit overwhelming at first but you’ll get used to them.”

“Oh please, I rode a moose once!”

“You wh?!– nevermind that has nothing to do with this. How about we tell the other campers about this.”

Tallulah shook her head, she didn’t want a whole lot of attention.But Luke just dragged her back to the cabins and began to pull her up onto a table.

“Attention children of Nyx and Hypnos!” a handful of campers turned their heads to Luke, “I want you to meet your new counselor!”

Silence ensued. Tallulah felt her face burning in embarrassment. But she needed confidence to win them over.

“To help lessen the strain on your favorite counselor, Castellan here, I’ve decided to take over for Nyx and Hypnos kids. I know I’m relatively new to this camp but I am the oldest and I am willing to put in the work. I also am creating this cabin to give you kids a chance to stargaze without becoming a snack for harpies.” She earned a couple giggles from the campers.

Public speaking came quite easily to Tallulah but that gave her more encouragement. After her “speech” of sorts, a smaller girl came up to her. She looked about 11 and had long black braids. There was a fierce look in her eyes, almost like an Ares kid. But also a gaze that gave a sense of knowing.

“Hi, I’m Annabeth. I see Luke has taken to introducing you to the camp.” She started, gesturing to Luke, “I trust that he hasn’t bothered you too much?”

Tallulah rolled her eyes but smiled, “He’s Castellan, always a bit annoying.”

Annabeth shot a sharp glance at Luke and muttered something along the lines of, “Nicknames already?”

Luke’s cheeks turned rosy and he folded his arms, “LaFl-Tallulah! I’ve just made sure she’s not alone!”

“Hey! She has me, Lou, and Mae!” A voice sounded from the tree.

Alex flipped down to the ground with grace, landing with a spiderman pose. Lou-Ann also appeared from behind.

“Mae was working on a Demeter kid at the infirmary so she couldn’t come to our dramatic entrance.” Lou-Ann dramatically sighed.

Tallulah darted her eyes between them all, “So why the sudden group meeting?”

“Well we heard about your brave decision to become a counselor for the Nyx and Hypnos kids!”

“And I just haven’t met you before, even though Luke has been taking care of you.”

“I know, I know… Maybe it was a stupid decision… But something is just telling me I need to do this. I truly want to help these kids.”

“I know you will! I have all the info you need on the Hypnos kids and Nyx kids. They can have some interesting issues of sorts. Like falling asleep anywhere!”

Alex and Lou smirked at each other. Luke seemed extremely eager to help her. But Tallulah would take all the help she could get.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson show #pjo series #luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #Tallulah LaFlamme #Alexandria Fleet #Lou-Ann Hansley #annabeth chase #luke castellan x oc #pjo fanfic #original content #starlight's writing

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