#genuinely makes me want to curl up into a ball and DIE

[bikananjarrus]

thinking about the remaining members of the ghost crew after the liberation of lothal. they've freed lothal, which is like a second home to them, but the victory is bittersweet. because kanan is still gone. ezra is still gone. and they have to return to yavin, triumphant but grieving, ezra's message still ringing in their ears. thinking about them having to fill out reports for the rebellion, saying that they're two spectres short. having to start dealing with the questions from people around them: where's spectre 1? where's spectre 6? (dead. missing in action). hera discovering she's pregnant just a few weeks later and it's a joyous moment for the remaining ghost crew, but it brings a fresh wave of grief too. because the other two members of their crew should be there. just thinking about them throwing themselves into the rebellion, taking it day by day with the ever-present reminder that their family is incomplete. because there are holes in their life where kanan and ezra should be (where's spectre 1? where's spectre 6?) (still dead. still missing in action. but maybe he's dead too. maybe he has been the whole time).

[sai-int]

Do you think RTS Simon would get reader a pet, like a cat to keep her company while he’s gone? I totally see him getting jealous and annoyed with the fur ball whenever he gets home and just wants to be with his pretty bird.

oh absolutely. he is so that man. grumpy, territorial, but he still buys you the damn cat.

he doesn’t even like cats.

but you’d been quiet the last few times he was gone. not needy, just… lonesome. and simon, for all his hard edges and cold silences, knows that you’re softer than you let on. you don’t complain, never beg him to stay, but he sees the way you linger in doorways when he packs, the way you press your face into his shirt when you think he’s not looking.

so he brings home a cat. doesn’t announce it or make it a big thing—just shows up one day, duffle slung over one shoulder and a small, squirming lump of fur tucked under his arm like cargo.

“don’t get used t’this,” he mutters, setting the kitten on the floor like it personally offended him. “thing’s for you, not me.”

—but you beam. scoop up the fluffball with a gasp and immediately start baby-talking to it, pressing kisses to its little ears

and simon genuinely feels like he might just die on the spot.

(you name her shelly, after the endless bullet casings/shells you find in his kit... his pockets... his shoes... it's a problem. he’s secretly obsessed—loves when you find one and he can hear you shout his name all angrily across the house)

—but the second he comes home and sees her curled up in your lap, purring away while you giggle and coo, simon is scowling. dramatic. brooding. sulking like a teenager.

“that my spot, sweet’art?” he drawls, standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed.

“youre always my favorite,” you say, smiling sweetly—but you don’t move the cat.

his eye twitches.

and the worst part?? she likes to sleep between you two. like some tiny, smug little gatekeeper.

“don’t give me that look,” you laugh when he glares at her one night. “she kept me company.”

“she’s in my bloody way.”

and when she nips at his sock or curls on his pillow, he grumbles “fuckin’ gremlin,” under his breath—but never kicks her off. just deals with it, because you love her.

(he secretly pets her when you’re not around. she purrs like mad. he pretends it didn’t happen.)

but one night, long after you’ve fallen asleep, he’s lying there wide awake—your body pressed against his, the cat snuggled up behind your knees. and he realizes: you’re not alone when he’s gone. you’re loved. warm. safe.

and maybe the furball’s not so bad after all. (he still growls “move over, princess,” when she takes up too much bed space. but he scratches her head while he says it.)

and when he heads out the next time, he kisses you once—soft, lingering—and then crouches to scratch under the cat’s chin.

“y’keep her safe while i’m gone, yeah?” a beat. “or i’ll find someone who will.”

she meows like she understands. and when you wave him off from the porch, cat perched on your shoulder like a little guardian, simon feels something in his chest shift.

he has a home now.

fur, claws, pretty wife and all.

[strwberri-milk]

Hiii I love your work 🥺♡ can I request reader comforting LADS boys over their insecurities? Since we're always the one being comforted, I think they deserve some love as well 😌♡✨️

its slightly adjusted, just a little for me to like. make it fit better for them lol

Zayne struggles with feeling good enough for you. He doesn't ever voice it but he hears the way other people talk about their partners and wonders if that's how you feel about him. He worries that he isn't around enough for you, that his genuine desire to help every patient that comes into his unit giving him incredibly long hours. Then, by the time he gets home he's exhausted and unable to give you the attention you deserve.

You watch him puzzle over his schedule, a deep furrow in his brows as he tries his best to figure out how to balance these two priorities in his life. It's normal for him to try and figure out the schedule best so you can spend time together but this is the first time you hear him muttering about not being good enough for you.

Before he can continue his quiet ramblings you throw your arms over his shoulders, hugging him tightly from behind. He's surprised you're there and even more surprised when you tell him that you heard him talking to himself. He sits quietly, taking in your words as you comfort him. You remind him that you love him, that everything he does makes you fall in love with him more and more. He likes being told directly these affections, making it easier for him to accept your love.

Xavier knows he's not the most emotive and he worries that you don't know how much he loves you. He shows it to you through gifts, buying you little things or through acts of service and cooking meals for you - well, trying to.

You've never doubted his love for you because you've learned all the quiet ways he does so. You adore him and know he does you. You've never told him so in so many words, thinking that he already knows you know. However, you can tell that something is off when his affectionate patterns seem to increase tenfold.

You get the sense that he's overcompensating for something, asking him if something's wrong. He doesn't want to say anything directly to you, a little embarrassed by his inability to cook you proper meals. When he tells you what's wrong you laugh a little, holding his hands and reassuring him that you know he loves you. You don't mind his quiet way of loving you, knowing that it's comforting to have something so gentle to come home to.

Rafayel is always worried about being forgotten, something you know well because of how much he talks about it. He thinks he's being subtle but that's because to him, he doesn't tell you often enough how desperate he is for him to remain in your memory indefinitely. The thought of you forgetting him, even just for a moment makes him want to curl up in a ball and die.

The only way for you to reassure him would be by holding him tightly, gently running your fingers through his hair. You let him rest his face in your neck, mutter whatever it is he wants to about you forgetting him and abandoning him. You let him get whatever it is he needs to get off his chest, then comfort him through your words.

You reassure him that you would never forget him willingly, that you think about him all the time. He occupies your every thought. You're obsessed with him, and you show him so by showing him all the photos you have of him, of his art, tell him that you constantly re-read the texts he sends you because you like to remember that he loves you just as much. He needs this closeness often, and that's the only way he can cope with his feelings of abandonment.

Sylus thinks you don't know that he does indeed love you. The two of you tease each other and he likes to mess with you sometimes. He's not good with his words, not really able to verbalise "I love you" without tripping over the simple syllables. It's something he's trying to work on but can't quite comprehend, finding himself growing frustrated from his repeated failures.

You overhear the twins teasing him about not being able to say "I love you", Sylus simply ignoring them both because he's got far too much work to do to really worry about it. He doesn't know that you're listening in, quietly shooing them off so you can speak to him personally.

You tease him just a little bit at first, amused that somehow, he's been so obvious about worrying about this shortcoming that the twins caught on. He doesn't really blush, but you can sense that he is a little flustered with the extra line between his furrowed brows and the way he pretends he doesn't hear what you're saying to him. Soon enough though you climb into his lap, holding him tightly as you reassure him that you know he loves you and you've never doubted it for a second.

[m1stm3]

now playing…

won’t bite!! by doja cat

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

tattoo artist! suguru x body piercer! reader

is everyone excited for friday the 13th flash sales. ik i am.

cw’s!!: none!!! ^.^

wc: 1k (on the dot!!)

“alright, so-“

the clap that comes from your gloved hands is horrendously loud and you’re wincing before you can control your expression. you mutter out a small “sorry” when you turn to face suguru, a sheepish little smile spreading across your lips.

“anyways, um-“ you’re trying your best not to stare. “do you mind opening your mouth? for the anatomy check.”

he lets out a little hum, parting his lips while you move closer. you’re really trying not to stare — in a creepy way, at least. you kinda had to stare right now…

this part of the process is quick and easy (thank god), your mind more focused on making sure you won’t hit a vein and make your boss bleed out and die… and that the little dot that you put on his tongue is centered. that’s also important.

you switch out your gloves for the last time, your mind suddenly grateful for the opportunity to keep your hands busy instead of mindlessly fidgeting as you speak.

“so the aftercare is pretty easy…” you trail off, your hands unwrapping the needle and getting your clamps ready. “alcohol free mouthwash every time you eat or drink something, soft foods for the first three or four days, ice for swelling, blahblahblah…” he looks amused at your words and you silently thank whatever gods are listening.

“this part hurts more than the actual needle, in my opinion…” you mumble under your breath when you clamp the pink muscle. you line up the needle on the underside of his tongue and pray that he can’t feel how hot your cheeks are with the sudden closeness.

“alright, breath in… and out…” his nose crinkles when you push the needle through but he doesn’t flinch other than that.

your voice is all comfort and sweetness after that, a soft “good job” leaving your lips as you take the clamp off and prep the jewelry. you try to ignore the way his lidded eyes follow your every movement.

“keep your tongue out aaaand… done.” you hum, handing him a mirror when you take your gloves off. you’re nervous — not because he’s your boss (though that’s definitely a factor) but because it’s him.

a smile spreads across his lips as he studies the shiny silver and you feel the need to fill the silence.

“you did really good! most people flinch because of adrenaline n’stuff.” you give him a little thumbs up and almost immediately regret the awkward motion when he chuckles in response.

“i appreciate you making space in your schedule for me. you’re quite gentle for someone who stabs people for a living.” he muses. there’s the slightest lisp to his words now but he doesn’t seem to notice. you do though. you definitely do.

your hands are back to fidgeting with anything they can reach, the hem of your top being the current victim.

“i’m only as good as my client.” your voice is soft and his smile grows. you don’t know whether the slight tension is the air is genuine or just you being hopeful.

“um- i forgot to mention-“ you finally manage to squeak out after the — very short — quiet moment. “no… oral activities for the next six weeks.” you don’t know why you’re so embarrassed saying this! you go on this spiel almost everyday! you’re both adults!

“i know that’s one of the main appeals of the piercing but it’s a huge risk for infection so…” you trail off. it was a sad attempt at a joke, but it was still an attempt. a for effort!

your small — very small — victory is cut off as soon as you see him raise an eyebrow at your words and suddenly you want to curl up into a ball and rot for the rest of your life.

“‘one of the main appeals’, huh? is that why you got yours done?” if it were anybody else it’d be so easy to just laugh it off and move on, but obviously the universe has something against you so now you’re left hopelessly letting out a laugh that is way too stiff while your eyes frantically dart to the clock on the wall.

and finally, finally, you’re thrown a bone.

“ah! my 2:30’s gonna be here in a few, sorry!” you’re suddenly shuffling around your station, eyes glued to the metal tray that you had your tools on earlier.

“let me know if you need anything, ‘kay? i’ll get you in here in a week or two to downsize.” you send him a short smile, your voice the polite chirp he was used to hearing when you talked to clients.

he doesn’t move for a moment and you have to hold back the urge to say anything else and dig a deeper hole for yourself.

you’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even hear him moving closer to you until he’s already pressing folded bills into your palm.

“for your troubles, yeah?” it’s the smallest mutter by your ear that’s gone before you can even protest, the shuffle of the curtain closing being the only indication that you didn’t just hallucinate how close he got.

you manage to collect yourself while you’re counting the bills he handed to you (the cost of the piercing and then some, by the way…. you told him you’d do it for free).

and you think you’re fine, you really do! until your phone pings! with a new text.

‘my books are always open for you, by the way.’

another text.

‘it’d be an honor to be the first to tattoo you, if you’d let me :)’

you react to the message with a heart… and also mentally plan out a design for the rest of the day. totally chill.

[writingdevil]

Oh lord you're activating my STP hyperfix again oughhh how dare you,,,

I come to you, you blacksmith of words, and offer you Stubborn and Paranoid,,, and then I scuttle away :3€

(A BLACKSMITH OF WORDS?? THAT'S SO NICE AND SUCH A COOL THING TO BE CALLED!! CAN I USE THAT??/j. I'm glad that I can infect other people with my hyperfixation, so that we can all be in these woods together. I wasn't sure whether you wanted this to be a ship or not so I left it up to interpretation. Anyway, enjoy!)

"Hello?"

Go away.

"Is anyone out here?"

Please leave. Please leave.

"Para? Are you here?"

They were following him. They were hurting him.

"Para?"

They were getting closer and closer and closer-

"Oi! There you are!"

Paranoid let a frightened yell out, scrambling out of the bush that he had been hiding behind.

The world spun, a dark and imposing blur in front of him, and Paranoid knew they were here to kill him, that's why they had been following him all day.

"Paranoid! It's me, Stubborn!"

Paranoid choked on a gasp, pressing himself against a tree as he struggled to control his fear and anxiety, having to blink many times before his vision focused again.

His eyes and throat stung, but he managed to focus enough on the voice before him to realise that yes, it was Stubborn in front of him. But that didn't make him feel better one bit.

"Para? What's going on?" Stubborn asked, annoyance on his face and in his voice. "You just freaked out and ran out into the woods. What's wrong?"

"Go- away," Paranoid gritted out, but Stubborn just crossed his arms and said, "Can't do that, especially when you've got everyone else worried about you."

A pang of guilt did come through Paranoid in that moment, before it was immediately overtaken by his fear.

What else was he supposed to do? Let those eyes follow him and lead him to danger? No. No, no, no, no- he was not going to die this way, not after everything he's been through.

Stubborn tried beckoning him forward. "Look, let's just go back inside where you can't hurt yourself even more."

Paranoid shook his head, curling up into a ball. "No. I can't."

Stubborn sighed in exasperation. "Why not?"

"Because they're in the house!"

Stubborn gave him a look that made a spark of fury ignite within him, looking at him as if Paranoid was the problem.

"There is nothing in the house-"

"Yes there is!" Paranoid exclaimed in protest, wrapping his arms around himself. "The eyes keep staring at me in there! I can't go back! I can't take them watching me!"

He needed a moment to try and get his breathing under control, all the while Stubborn was just standing there, giving him a frustrated and conflicted look.

Eventually, when Paranoid was sure that he could talk again, he lowered his gaze to look at his trembling hands, to try and ignore Stubborn's judgemental glare.

The silence would've been comforting, would've helped Paranoid clear his head, but with Stubborn here, that couldn't happen.

Stubborn let a heavy sigh out. "Look, I'm not leaving without you, so you need to listen to me. There are no fucking eyes in the house."

Paranoid whimpered, and he almost missed the wince that Stubborn made at that sound. Paranoid was on the verge of tears at this point. He hated this. He hated his feelings. He hated his mind.

He especially hated the way Stubborn was staring at him-with nothing but pity.

Stubborn continued, his gravelly voice as soft as he could make it, "You're just seeing things-"

But that broke the moment immediately.

"I am not seeing things!" he screamed in Stubborn's face, claws digging into his skin so hard that they were probably cutting him, but he didn't care. "I am not crazy! No matter how much you think I am!"

Stubborn genuinely looked taken aback at his outburst, face frozen in shock, but all Paranoid could focus on was trying not to cry in this moment, mumbling, "I'm not crazy," over and over again to himself.

That went on for so long that Paranoid was starting to believe that he had made Stubborn up as well, until he heard him sigh.

"...Sorry," Stubborn muttered, crouching down in front of Paranoid, and if Paranoid wasn't in the middle of a breakdown, he would've commented on the rare look of guilt on Stubborn's face.

"I'm still not planning on ditching you here. I still need to bring you home."

Paranoid whimpered,squeezing his eyes shut in the hopes of blocking out all the horror that constantly surrounds him. "But the eyes are in there."

"Then I'll protect you."

Paranoid froze, then opened his eyes.

Stubborn was holding his arms out to him, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "I'll make sure that nothing comes near you or hurts you. Everyone will be there to protect you as well in the house."

"Are you sure?" Paranoid asked, his body already leaning forward towards Stubborn's warm and inviting arms.

"Yeah," Stubborn assured with a nod of his head. "What? You think people like Hero and Hunted are gonna let anything bad happen to you?"

That was true. Despite the fear still consuming Paranoid's mind, he knew that that was real. His flock's love was real.

He cautiously looked into Stubborn's eyes- warm, and solid, a determined glint in them that slowly pierced through the fear within him, letting him know for a single moment-Stubborn was safe.

Paranoid took a deep breath, and then reached out towards Stubborn. Stubborn allowed Paranoid to move closer to him, right up until Paranoid's fingers grazed his wrist, and suddenly he let a shuddering gasp out and desperately crawled into Stubborn's arms, who had no problem with immediately scooping Paranoid up, holding him close to his chest.

"I've got you, I'm here," Stubborn whispered, hugging Paranoid protectively, putting a hand over the back of his head, and Paranoid shoved his face into Stubborn's chest, breathing in his comforting scent, feeling his trembling already lessen.

Stubborn stood there for a few minutes, just shushing and rocking Paranoid back and forth, until Paranoid felt all the tension leave his body, safe in Stubborn's arms.

"That's it, you're safe with me," Stubborn whispered, and then began the walk back home, and Paranoid sighed in relief, not feeling any eyes on him at all in that moment, not with Stubborn there to protect him.

[frogs-in-my-tea]

I’m tired of the constant hate towards making male characters more feminine. Having fem traits doesn’t make a character weak and it doesn’t make a them submissive.

So, just out of spite, take some headcanons that show the more fem(?) side of Will and Nico:

Before Will and Nico dated, Will was with Drew Tanaka (he’s got a type). He had told Drew he wanted to do her nails for her like the gentleman he is, so she taught him how to expertly treat nails and paint them. Ever since then, Will almost always paints his and his sibling’s nails. When Nico and him got together (and Nico felt more comfortable with who he is), Will made it so that every two weeks they got their nails painted (they also put face masks and gossip, because those two gossip a lot).

Nico likes to be held, to get carried to bed when he’s hurt or tired, to rest in the arms of people he deeply cares about. He would never admit this, it could ruin his edgy reputation. But that feeling has always warmed his heart, someone caring for him so much they want to keep him in their hold, they want him around, they don’t want to let go, its something he thought he would never have. It’s the touch he had desperately craved but flinched away from. Now, he finally has it, and he won’t let it go.

I will die on the “Nico’s the little spoon” hill. That boy’s the master of curling into a tight ball and sleeping like the dead. He’s an isopod man. Sometimes he’s too curled up Will tries to shift him into a more comfortable position so he doesn’t destroy his back. (And of course Mr. Will “I love to hold other people so they are safe in my arms” Solace takes advantage of that.) but I also think this is a protective instinct, he unconsciously does it because he feels safer (more so when someone he loves is holding him). He probably learned to do this those few years he was homeless. Also he’s cold.

Will has a very long and complex hair routine, he’s so dedicated he wakes up at 5 am to do it early in the morning and take his sweet time. His hair was messy asf before Hazel taught him how to properly treat it. He’s become obsessed with curly hair routines now, sometimes he does his routine with Nico (when his boyfriend’s too tired to complain). Will has one of the shiniest and healthiest hairs in camp.

Will loves to braid Nico’s hair, especially when it gets long. He makes tiny braids that are scattered around when he gets bored, when they are cuddling, when Nico’s sitting next to him or on his lap, when he needs to do something with his hands. He does this with his siblings too! Kayla’s the only one who gets annoyed when he does it to her but she lets him have it.

Nico’s lips are always dry asf (dehydrated mf) and he always bites the dry skin when he’s stressed or just thinking. Will forced him to have a chapstick in his pocket at all times. The chapstick has a hint of maroon, Will justified it by claiming it made Nico look more alive and less like a zombie (Will actually bought it because he likes how the color looks on Nico).

I’m genuinely curious if these are actually more feminine things. To me, they’re not. Because everyone has a different conception of what’s fem or masc to the point were you start thinking if it really matters. In conclusion, labeling is stupid.

[gothicxreylover]

Hi! Can I request the uppermoons with Kokushibo's child as their darling? Like, how would they react, and would their treatment change if they find out? What would change exactly? And also maybe include how Kokushibo would react if his child revealed that they're dating one of his fellow uppermoons?

*goes into whisper tone*

((also, if you're comfortable with, could you also write some teasing headcanons of the Hantengu clones with an innocent darling and how they'd tease her during a spicy night? And the darling is absolutely clueless and just trusts them to hopefully do it while not handling the teasing and being teary eyed?))

SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE! I kinda forgot about tumblr for a long while but here’s your request!

Daki

Before Knowing

• Daki is immediately drawn to you, but not in the usual flashy, seductive way she’s used to that fools pathetic humans.

• You’re so polite and sweet, always bowing slightly, voice soft, smiling shyly when she talks to you—and it melts her.

• She finds herself stumbling over her words. Forget seduction—she’s brushing your sleeve and squealing in her head like a teenager: “Did they just SMILE at me!?”

• Starts showing off in battle or dressing extra pretty when she knows you’re around. Constantly tries to “accidentally” bump into you in the Infinity Castle hallways.

After Finding Out

• Instant panic. She’s curled into a ball in her room whispering, “Oh my god. That’s Kokushibo’s kid. I flirted with Kokushibo’s kid. I’m going to DIE.”

• Avoids you for days out of embarrassment… until you shyly ask if you did something wrong.

• She bursts into dramatic tears and hugs you, crying: “No! You’re perfect! That’s the problem!!”

What Changes

• She becomes a blushing mess. Your relationship shifts into a soft, awkward courtship of lingering glances and whispered compliments.

• She treasures every touch, every small moment—braiding flowers into your hair, nervously reaching for your hand, asking if she can sit beside you and kicking her feet like a schoolgirl when you say yes.

• Starts practicing how she’ll introduce herself to Kokushibo if it ever gets that far: “Hello sir, I swear I’m not corrupting your child. I don’t even curse anymore!”

Akaza

Before Knowing

• Akaza finds your spirit beautiful. Not your strength in battle, but your inner will—your gentleness despite your lineage.

• He’s always protecting you from afar, making sure others treat you with respect. If someone mocks you, they disappear. Quickly.

• He gets visibly softer around you, eyes warm, voice quiet. When you thank him, he gets flustered and mumbles, “Don’t mention it.”

• You remind him of humanity—the soft parts he left behind—and he finds himself lingering near you longer than he should.

After Knowing

• Silence. He stares into space for like five minutes. Then mutters: “Of course. Of course you’re his.”

• There’s no fear in him—but respect. He keeps his distance for a while to think about whether he’s worthy of you.

• Eventually confesses gently: “I don’t care whose child you are. I only care about the person I see when I look at you.”

What Changes

• He starts training with you—light sessions, just to bond. It becomes your thing. When your fingers touch by accident? He nearly explodes.

• Gets extremely protective. Kokushibo already intimidates him, so Akaza steps up hard, trying to be good enough to deserve you.

• He defends your name like it’s sacred. Someone mocks you? They won’t live to finish the sentence.

• Genuinely asks Kokushibo one day: “I want to court your child properly.” Kokushibo stares. Akaza doesn’t flinch. Respect.

Douma

Before Knowing

• Oh he’s enthralled. You’re a little gem in a cave full of monsters, and he wants to collect you—no, keep you.

• Teases you constantly, leans close to whisper things like, “My my, don’t look so shy… it only makes you more tempting.”

• He treats you like a doll: offering sweets, inviting you to his temple, always with that honey-slicked smile.

• You make him feel something oddly human… and he doesn’t like how much he craves your attention.

After Knowing

• Douma laughs. Then he laughs again. And then stops.

• “Wait… you’re that one’s spawn?” Cue unnerving silence and wide eyes. The first time in forever, Douma looks concerned.

• Then comes the dramatic flare: “No wonder I liked you so much! You’ve got that same quiet horror in your eyes—but much cuter!”

What Changes

• He gets obsessed. Like, religious devotion levels of obsessed. You become his “holy little moonbeam.”

• Sends you presents wrapped in silk: rare flowers, mirror sets, haori dyed with your favorite color. He’s showing off.

• Starts being subtle (for Douma): “If your father ever disapproves of me… well, we’ll simply make our own little paradise far away, won’t we?”

• Tries to act innocent in front of Kokushibo. “Oh, sir! I would never lay a finger on your darling… unless they ask me to.” Cue Kokushibo gripping his katana a little harder.

Gyutaro

Before Knowing

• Gyutaro’s got it bad. He’s never seen someone like you—so delicate-looking but eerily composed, always with this calm, otherworldly grace that reminds him of snow falling at night.

• He doesn’t flirt in the usual sense. He just lingers—watching you from the shadows, carving your name into his flesh like a prayer, seething with jealousy at every demon who so much as breathes in your direction.

• But when you speak to him? Softly? Kindly? He goes blank. “You’re not scared of me?” You shake your head and say, “Should I be?”

• Boom. He’s yours.

After Finding Out

• Shock. Pure panic. “Y-You’re… Kokushibo’s brat?”

• He starts freaking out. He’s a filthy thing, a wretched thing. He’s not good enough. He’s not worthy. He should back off. But he can’t.

• The more he realizes he shouldn’t love you, the more he clings—like a starving animal offered a taste of heaven.

What Changes

• He treats you even more preciously. Like porcelain. Like something divine. He worships you with trembling hands and whispering lips, calling you “his moonlight, his sin, his salvation.”

• You’ll catch him trying to make himself look cleaner, better, more presentable when you’re around.

• Starts panicking over what Kokushibo will do if he finds out. Keeps saying, “You should tell ‘im you hate me. Tell ‘im I forced you. Maybe he’ll kill me quick…”

• But if you insist you love him too? He breaks. Crying, holding you tightly, promising to protect you from everyone. Even your own father if it came to it.

Hantengu clones

Karaku

• Before Knowing: Teases you constantly. “You look so serious all the time. Wanna smile for me just once?” Always flirty, always grinning, always trying to get you to blush.

• After Knowing: Chokes on his own spit. “Wait. Wait. You mean… you’re Kokushibo’s kid? The dude with a thousand eyes and a blade sharper than my attitude?”

• What Changes: He doesn’t stop teasing—but now he sweats while doing it. Looks around every time he flirts, half expecting Kokushibo to appear and behead him on the spot.

• Secretly very proud. “Look at me… pulling the sword god’s kid. Damn, I got game.”

⸻

Urogi

• Before Knowing: Giddy boy! Always swooping around you, laughing, nudging your shoulder, trying to make you smile. “You’re so pretty when you laugh! C’mon, do it again~”

• After Knowing: Dead silence. The first time he shuts up in his life. Then bursts into panicked laughter. “Oh noooo, I’ve been flirting with Kokushibo’s child! I’m gonna get chopped like a worm!”

• What Changes: Starts treating you like royalty. Carries you in his arms, defends your honor, wants to build you a nest. Genuinely tells Kokushibo, “Sir, I would die for your kid. Happily!”

⸻

Aizetsu

• Before Knowing: Quietly in love. Cries about how perfect you are. Keeps little drawings of you and writes sad poems. Melts when you show him even the slightest affection. “They spoke to me again today… I think my heart stopped.”

• After Knowing: He weeps. “Of course you’re his child… that explains the elegance… the tragedy… the unattainability…” Just spirals into dramatic heartbreak.

• What Changes: He’s somehow more devoted. Treats you like a divine being now. Offers to die in your name. If Kokushibo disapproves, Aizetsu is already kneeling. “Just… let them live… take me instead…”

⸻

Sekido

• Before Knowing: Furious all the time… until you walk in. Then he shuts up and looks away, ears red, grumbling curses under his breath as he simmers with unspoken yearning.

• After Knowing: Breaks a wall. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I’ve BEEN YELLING AT KOKUSHIBO’S KID???”

• What Changes: His protectiveness becomes next-level. Anyone dares to upset you? He vaporizes them. Tries really hard to not swear around you now. Still grumpy, but you’re the only one who makes him go quiet and soft.

⸻

Combined Reactions

• When they all find out together? It’s chaos. Karaku’s joking, Urogi’s panicking, Aizetsu is crying, and Sekido is throwing furniture.

• But they all decide something silently, as a group: you are theirs. And nothing—not even Kokushibo himself—will take you away.

Teasing Headcanons – Hantengu Clones x Innocent Darling

(Extra to make up for not writing smut)

Picture you: sweet, shy, flustered at even a compliment. And them? Oh, they live for it. Especially in quiet moments when you open your heart a little.

⸻

Karaku

• Loves watching you squirm. “You really mean that? You love spending time with me the most? What a bold thing to say~.”

• Leans close when you’re confessing something personal, brushing his fingers over yours and cooing, “You always get this cute when you talk from the heart.”

• If you ever say something like “I trust you,” he grins and whispers, “You shouldn’t.” But the look in his eyes is painfully soft.

⸻

Urogi

• Picks you up mid-sentence during soft convos. “You’re adorable when you get serious, but I wanna see you laugh too.”

• Nuzzles into your neck during cuddles just to feel you freeze. “Hehe! Your heart’s racing. Are you scared of me or… something else?”

• Feeds you random compliments during quiet talks: “Your voice is too cute. Makes me wanna keep you up all night just so I can hear more.” You die on the spot.

⸻

Aizetsu

• Gentle teasing. He’ll listen intently to your heartfelt words, eyes welling up, then say: “You’re too kind to me… Are you sure you’re not an angel in disguise?”

• If you accidentally flirt, he covers his face and whimpers: “Please… don’t say things like that so innocently. I can’t take it…”

• When you’re sad, he’s right there whispering how much he treasures you. “Even your sadness is beautiful. You’re the only one who makes me want to protect instead of mourn.”

⸻

Sekido

• Denies being a tease but is the worst offender.

• Gets mad when you cry or confess your worries, but it’s because he doesn’t know how to handle his feelings. “Why are you always making me feel things?!”

• He’ll gruffly say something like, “Tch. I don’t care if you’re sweet or whatever,” but then shoves a gift into your lap and looks away, ears red.

Kokushibo’s Reaction

• Silent. Scary. Cold. The room drops twenty degrees the moment you mention you’re dating one of the Upper Moons.

• He doesn’t say he disapproves, but he’ll start testing them in battle more, watching for cracks in their obsession with you. He doesn’t want his child with someone weak, even if that “someone” is a fellow Upper Moon.

• If you’re happy, he doesn’t stop you—but he warns your lover. One glare, one sentence:

“If they bleed… it won’t be because of me.”

[iwaasfairy]

Hi, Fairy! Maybe your first blowjob with Sakura from Windbreaker?

this is awfully soft for my blog but for just this once I will provide you the fluffy smut you want bc it got awayyy from me :>> first impressions, I like haru

tw. blowjob, spit, neither are virgins but Haruka is having a first

“Okay, my turn.” You giggle, and roll over after putting your drink precariously close to the edge of the coffeetable. “Hmm… weirdest place you’ve gotten a blowjob?” Your head’s too close to his thigh, you’re not being subtle. Your toes basically curl without intent at even having this conversation with him. It’s the most overtly sexual you’ve been with him— and you’re alone. Blame a girl for being giddy. When it stays quiet for a few seconds, you get anxious though.

“What, you can ask me my favorite positions, but I can’t ask something personal back?” He’s still looking, and you swear you catch him staring at your lips when you look over.

“No…” His normally serious, predatory eyes flick away. “Never had that so, gotta pass.” Your lips smack, and he seems to tense at the sound.

“What’dyou mean? You’ve never…” You look up at him innocently, genuine curiosity making it’s way over your features. Haruka’s got a massive blush on his face all of a sudden, running from his nose to the tips of his ears as he stares resolutely at the corner of the room instead of you. He speaks much too loudly to be unbothered by the topic.

“It means what it fucking means. Stop staring at me, brat. You might’ve got around when you were young,” he bursts out -and you would take it personally if he didn’t look down at you like something to eat earlier- “but I wasn’t all that popular back home. I had a reputation of being a hardass, so no girls were jumping for the opportunity, alright?!” He’s loud enough that if your big brother was home, he’d come in to check in on you. Luckily then that he isn’t. Sakura’s all tense and balled fists, and it makes you quiet; then giggle when he finally takes those mismatched eyes away from the wall back down at your face.

Your giggles die down as soon as he starts getting up out of the couch, and you shoot into motion to wrap soft fingers around his wrist. “Haru~ kun, wait! You have to give me time to react first, seriously.” He’s so tense you can feel each muscle in his forearm flex when you slide your hand up just a little. After a bit of debating, with your big, soft eyes still aimed at him, he eventually sits back down. But pulls his arm away from you to cross them over his chest instead, with a ‘what?’ sort of expression.

You bite your lip. “Around the campfire the other night, you … Didn’t you tell the guys you weren’t a vir-”

Again that fucking blush, now also over his hands as he smacks it over your mouth— hot palm shutting you up as his eyebrows get so high on his forehead. When he realizes that this isn’t really the way to shut a lady up, he frowns, and his chest rises and falls a little too quickly. For such a tough guy- he really can’t handle teasing at all. “How did you know about that?! And- w-what about it, anyway?” He keeps your eyes with a searching expression for a bit longer. As if he’s trying to see if you’re mad. What’s there to be mad about? You’re both adults. When he doesn’t find any accusations in your irises, he lets go of you. Seriously, this guy.

“Was that a lie?” you ask.

You’ve known him for a while now. At least enough for you to get a slight little crush on your brother’s friend— and this is the first time since maybe high school that he got this flustered. Usually, you’re the one a flushed mess whenever he’s around. Tonight’s been different. Instead of backing down, he puffs his chest out a little, and looks back at you. You don’t want to let it go to your head, but when you ask it he lets his gaze trail all over your body where you’re resting, lingering on the way your shorts have ridden up between your thighs.

“No, it wasn’t a fucking lie. Some stuff happened back in highschool and I ended up getting plenty of experience.” Those pretty eyes keep yours, and he licks his bottom lip. “Believe me, I know what I’m doing on that front.” There it is. Under all of that thinly veiled temper— is the guy who makes your head spin when he’s around with his hopeless brashness. You’re smitten.

You sit up, instead shifting your legs under you as you run a hand through your hair and brush it away from your face instead, exposing the long stretch of neck that he also takes a slow journey down with his eyes. It’s as flattering as it is making your hairs stand on end, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. When you manage to calm your racing heart rate a little, you smile, eyes on the ground.

You breathe out. “But you’ve never had your,” now it’s your turn to struggle through the words, “your dick sucked?” The dent in the wall from where your big brother once threw a chair is endlessly interesting now. “Do you want to? I mean- not- I’m not asking for me to- just- in general.” You smooth your hands over your shorts to readjust them. Now would be a good time to get a drink, tingles trailing up and down your spine. “I mean- isn’t that a lot of pressure for whichever poor girl is the first?” You can’t bear to look at him, but you have a feeling Haruka’s smiling at the side of your face. You could shoot yourself. “Thirsty,” you squeak.

When you slide your legs off the couch with the intention to escape to safety for a bit, a warm palm now grabs onto your upper arm, winding around it with just enough pressure to keep you from going. You’re so rigid that when he gets closer and the air of his breath dusts over your ear, you squeak. “Where are you going? Gotta give me some time to react first, don’t you?” You barely manage to look back at him, but when you do you’re nose to nose. He trails fingertips around your ear before nudging your chin up with one finger. “Say, if I ask for it myself, would it still pressure you? If I show you how badly I want you to?”

Then after a second he tilts his head in thought. “Only you.” You can’t think straight, can only focus on the sliver of distance left between your lips. Holy fuck, your heart is beating so hard it makes you a bit shaky. Sakura’s lashes flutter as he whispers the next words against your lips— and all you can think about is how good he looks in the low light of the tv. His words are slow, as his fingers drag through your hair to hold you in place. “Can I ask? To put that pretty fucking mouth on my cock?”

Your entire body tingles, and you nod. “Yeah.” Your mouth meets his eagerly, but not as eager as Haruka is when shifting his body weight into you and almost knocking teeth when you kiss. His tongue’s sweet, a little bitter because of the drinks, as it pushes against yours and kisses and sucks the air out of you. His free hand wrapping around your waist drags you against him more, tilting your head back for his access by a soft pull on your hair. When you disconnect for a moment you breathe his name, and he sits back to pat his lap a few times.

“Come. Sit for me first.”

“You have no clue-” you pant as you get onto him, feeling those strong thighs flexing under your own, “how long I’ve wanted to.” His brows slant up at the admission, as you pull your shirt over your head. “Do this, that is. I’ve had a crush on you for like three years. I haven’t been constantly thinking of ways to trick you into having you fuck my mouth.” A soft chuckle shakes his chest when he follows your lead to take off his own shirt, tosses it somewhere. Then he kisses you again, and smiles.

“I wouldn’t be upset if you admitted you had.” As you roll your hips against him, you’re pleased to already feel his bulge pushing against you. He looks positively radiant looking up at you like he is, biting his bottom lip as his hands grip your tits through your bra and he can’t hold back a smile. You can’t help but kiss him again, and start making marks on the pretty skin below his jaw. Haruka groans. “I’ve wanted you too, by- agh- the way. So much longer than that. Not to say that I waited or nothin’… ” He admits after a few seconds of trailing kisses down his neck and collarbones, making your way down to the patch of white hairs from his navel down. His voice gets heavier when he bucks up into your doughy pussy, only separated by a few bits of fabric. “But I’ve wanted your lips wrapped around my cock since freshman year- fuck.”

You’re halfway down his body and pulling his sweats out of the way when you look up at him with big eyes, and a surprised giggle makes it’s way out of your open mouth. “Freshman year?! You’ve been wanting to fuck your friend’s little sister’s mouth since freshman year?” He’s quick to lift his ass and push the pants to his knees along with his underwear, and grabs his cock at the base as another blush makes it’s way over his face.

“Shut up- just… If you’re gonna do it, do it.” He’s all flushed and honestly, adorable as he glances between his own body and you where you’re now on your knees on the carpet. He watches you lick your lips and give him some time to squeeze out a drop of glossy pre, before running his free hand through his hair to get it out of his face. “No p-pressure, though. Anything you do will be more than enough for me.” It’s so genuine it almost makes you hold back on giving him your best.

Almost. “No way. If you’ve been waiting to fuck my mouth for that long…” You smile up at him, blink your long lashes, and then pat the puffy head against your hot lips a few times.

Your lips meet his swollen tip with a hum, before blowing a bubble of spit and pushing your tongue against him, wrapping it around the hot head. Your tongue squirms as you wet it with as much spit as you can, before putting your lips on him and slowly feeding more of his cock inside with a hum- batting your lashes up in time to watch how Haruka’s eyes widen and then he has to push them closed entirely. “O-oh fuck. Fuck; You’re-” Your tongue rubs over his slit to taste the slightly salty, musky pre and your hand moves down to squeeze his shaft, then gripping his hot, heavy balls. “A- ugh- hold on.”

“Holy fuck- ah- fucking shit.” His normally tense expression takes on a wonderful helplessness as you push your cheeks together and hollow them around him, suck slow first and then harder— and Haruka groans deeply. “So pretty. Oh shit, I’m close. I’m already close- slow down.”

He opens his eyes for a few seconds, only to close them again, placing his hand on top of your head to hold you back a little. Your tongue strokes the underside of his shaft, melting along the curve of one throbbing vein. “Fu—ck me, you’re- so fucking good at this, you’re so good. Ah, agh ah.” He pants, opens his eyes, strokes your crown a few times as his cock fills your mouth up and you pull back, leaking spit. “Taste good, does it?”

“Mhm.” It’s too messy and hot between his legs for you to stay entirely untouched, as you rub his spongey, pink head on the outside of your cheeks. One hand makes it’s way between your own legs to grind against your own palm, while the other winds just tight enough around the base of him to make his breathing hitch. “Haru~ y’taste so good. Feel nice in my mouth too.”

“I promise you-,” his leg twitches when you stroke slow motions on the slick length of him, “you feel even better.” You dip your face to instead take his balls into your mouth instead and suck, and the nervous twitch becomes a full on spasm that has him grabbing your head by the hair. “Oh-oh don’t do that. I’m- I wanna come in your mouth. Fuck, baby. What the fuck.” The pull aches, but watching him basically glare at you from under thick lashes makes your entire body glow. When he wraps his larger hand around yours to hold you still for a moment, you can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face. “You can’t keep doing that, unless you want me to cum all over your face.”

“But I like tasting you so much.” You pout. Your hair sticks to your neck, and your tears make your lashes sticky. He looks at you like you’re a princess though. Your pussy clenches around nothing. “Stand up for me?” Haruka’s frown comes back at that, but he strokes comforting pets over your head as he thinks. He eventually grits his teeth when you let go of him entirely, escaping from his touch. It’s too hot, and really— you ache to be touched too. But it’s so nice to watch that blush spread on his neck. You get back a little and squeeze his thigh, and with a bit more urging he stands up out of the couch.

Thick, pretty cock right before your nose, he twitches before you. Your eyes find his when you smile. You stick your tongue out to drop some drool onto your fingers, and hold your hand out. Haruka’s face only blanks. “Want to fuck my face on your pace instead?”

“No.” It takes a few seconds to register the expression he’s wearing, but it isn’t one of annoyance. Instead he’s holding out his hand to pull you up— and you let him. “Bend over here. It’s my turn.”

[nomoreusername]

Harry Potter

Pairing:Thomas x female reader (G/N Pronouns)

Summary:Despite being on your cycle, Thomas still knows how to make you laugh.

Thomas does his best to be comforting. He really does try to make me feel better when I want to curl up into a ball and die at least once a month. It's just that when he does, it's always very hit or miss.

“I'll fight mother nature for you,”He said firmly.

“Okay, Thomas. Okay,”I nodded, leaning back and looking over at him. I wasn't even hurting or having any hellish side effects and he was already threatening violence on something that he couldn't fight. That's a pretty Thomas thing to do.

“Yeah. I’ll make her be nice.”

Rolling my eyes at his antics, I rested my head on his shoulder. Wrapping his arm around me, he pulled me closer while tracing his fingertips up and down my arm. “I could become a wizard too and get rid of it forever and ever?”He offered.

“Okay, Harry Potter,”I deadpanned, a teasing smile on my face despite my words.

“Well, I have always wanted to go to London, and I do like snakes,”He pointed out, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he appeared to be genuinely thinking about if he's a boy with an arch nemesis and magic powers.

I may not be suffering that badly right now, but if I am at least I have him to make living bearable.

[vodika-vibes]

Hi again, hope you’ve been well! I just wanted to see if I could please ask for a hurt/comfort fic with either an alpha arc or a null, your choice of who specifically. One where reader is an informant of some kind, but they end up getting caught and interrogated before trooper of choose comes to the rescue. When they do maybe reading is having a panic attack after being severely injured. Thanks and happy writing!

Abandon Ship

Summary: You’re a member of the Republic Strategic Information Service (SIS) though you’re not a high ranking member, in fact, you’re not supposed to be doing field operations at all. However, when your supervisor orders you into Separatist space, your options are follow orders or lose your job. You manage to get off one coded message to Ordo before you’re captured. And all you can do is hope that he’ll come.

Pairing: Ordo Skirata x F!Reader

Word Count: 1802

Warnings: Torture

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Sorry that this took so long! I think I have several other requests from you as well. I feel so bad that it took me so long to get to this one. Anyway, I chose Ordo because I love him, though it was a toss-up between Ordo and Mereel, but given the subject matter, I thought Ordo would be a better fit than Mereel. I hope you like it!

You huff out a near silent groan of pain as you slowly, and painfully, uncurl from the protective ball that you curled yourself into when the interrogator came into the room.

Eventually, they’ll figure that you genuinely don’t know anything.

You’re smart enough to know that when they do figure that out, it’s game over for you.

For a moment, you lay on your back on the frigid, dirty, and wet floor. Trying to work up the will to get to your feet, or at least to crawl over to the “bed” that you were supplied when you were thrown in here.

Calling it a proper bed would be an insult to beds everywhere.

It’s little more than a thin mat with some ratty blankets thrown on top. But it’s slightly more comfortable than the concrete you’re actively laying on.

Slowly you press your arm over your eyes and try to ignore the burning in your eyes (tears will not help this situation) and the stabbing pain around your ribs.

You shouldn’t be in this position at all. You’re an analyst, not a field agent. There’s no reason for you to be anywhere but on Coruscant, or maybe a warship. You definitely should not be on Raxus.

You shouldn’t be in Separatist space at all.

You cringe at the sound of someone screaming further down the hall, at least you’re not alone in here.

It doesn’t make you feel any better.

Finally the throbbing in your chest and abdomen fades enough that you’re willing to slowly push yourself to your feet, and drag yourself to the bed on the other side of your cell.

All you can do now, you’re only option, is hope that someone will come for you. Either another member of the SIS, or maybe Ordo will answer your panicked, and heavily encrypted, message.

And if he doesn’t...well, you’ll die here. And no one will ever know what happened to you.

This time, as you roll onto your side so you’re not facing the door, you don’t bother to stop your tears.

It’s been...you aren’t sure how long. Longer than a week, definitely. But you don’t have an exact number of days that you’ve been on Raxus. It’s intentional, you’re sure.

Or, maybe not. The people holding you don’t seem to be all that proficient at the more psychological aspect of torture. Though they’re more than proficient in the more physical aspects.

Your shoulders twinge painfully as your arms are twisted behind your back, and heavy binders are snapped around your wrists, and magnetized to the chair you’re sitting on.

It’s uncomfortable, boarding on painful. And mixed with the staggering number of bruises you’re nursing, not to mention the open lacerations that have been prevents from healing due to your captors rubbing actual salt into your wounds, and the fact that your captor decided that using a whip on you was the best way to get you to work with them-

Yeah. You’re not having a good time.

Honestly, if you weren’t in so much pain, it’d almost be laughable. It’s like they read a storybook on how to be the most cliche villain ever, and are following it like a checklist.

“So,” You slowly lift your gaze to the man standing in front of you. He’s a massive human, and honestly looks like he should be modeling for GQ rather than being an interrogator. “You have been here for almost a month. And you haven’t even told us your name.”

You just blink at him and a flash of irritation crosses his face.

He walks over to you and grabs a fistful of your hair, before roughly jerking your head back, “All of this can stop, if you just work with us rather than against us.”

Once again, you just blink at him.

He growls and releases your hair, “Fine.” He walks away from you and turns to the men standing near the door, your personal torturers. Although, you’re pretty sure that one of them is new.

It’s kind of hard to tell, since they’re both completely covered in armor.

“Start removing appendages, start with her fingers.” He looks at you, “Remember, girl, you brought this on yourself.” And then he’s gone, and you’re alone with your old friends.

One of the men walks over to you and presses a button, releasing the heavy binders, and then his boot slams hard into your chest, knocking you and the chair over, and knocking the air out of your lungs.

“This one,” He drawls, “is stubborn. Hasn’t said a damned word since we found her. Though we do know that she’s SIS. I doubt this is gonna work like the boss thinks, but I’m happy to try.”

He walks over to you and slams his boot down on your chest again, pulling a pained gasp from you, as you struggle to catch your breath and from the pain. He lifts his boot long enough that you’re able to catch your breath, and kicks you in the side to roll you over.

“You like your job then.” The new guy says, and you’re at least aware enough to note that you recognize the voice. It’s familiar though you can’t quite pinpoint why it’s familiar.

“Course I do.” The man who kicked you kneels next to you, “These holier than thou pubbie assholes deserve everything that they get. You’ll learn.” He draws a, almost comically, large knife and lazily presses the tip against your cheek.

The knife is sharp, sharp enough that it doesn’t hurt as much as it could as it cuts into the skin of your cheek. You bite your tongue hard enough that you can taste metal.

He pulls the knife away from your face and jerks your arm out to examine your fingers, “I think...I’ll start with the thumb.” There’s something gleefully cruel in his voice, and your eyes snap shut as he presses the blade against the base of your thumb—

—And then there’s the sound of a blaster being fired, and the sound of something heavy falling to the floor.

Your eyes open when you feel large hands on your shoulders, encouraging you to sit up. And you peer up at the new guy who’s kneeling over you. You want to lean away from him, to press yourself against the wall, but you just don’t have the strength to do anything anymore.

He’s silent for a moment, and then reaches up and pulls off the helmet.

You blink at him. Once, twice, three times. Sure that your eyes are playing tricks on you.

“...Ordo?” Your voice is raspy from disuse.

His dark eyes scan your face for a moment, before he brings his gloved hand up to press soothingly against your cheek, “Sorry I’m late, mesh’la.”

“I...I didn’t think anyone was coming.” You admit as your hands, bruised and bloodied, come up to wrap around his wrists.

“Well, I wasn’t supposed to. The orders we were given were very clear.” Ordo says with narrowed eyes, “You were to be written off as a lost asset.”

It feels like a giant hand wraps around your lungs and squeezes tightly. Oh, you think absently, there’s the panic attack.

“Hey, hey,” Ordo’s other hand presses against your cheek, trying to draw your focus, “You’re safe now. I was never going to leave you behind. We’re going to get you safe and home. And you’re never going back to the SIS.”

Ordo sounds like he’s miles away.

“Kriff, cyar’ika, keep your eyes open-”

He looks worried.

The world around you starts going gray at the edges, and you try to open your mouth to reassure him that you’re fine, but the world goes dark. And, for the first time in ages, you don’t feel any pain.

You wake to the sound of a heart monitor beeping in your ear, and the scent of bacta in your nose.

The lights are dimmed, which you notice as you slowly blink your eyes open. And as you turn your head, you see that Ordo is asleep in a chair next to the bed you’re laying in, his feet propped up on the edge of the bed.

He looks tired.

Slowly you try to sit up, but a sharp pain makes you hiss, and his eyes snap open and land on you immediately, “What are you doing?” He drops his feet and leans in to encourage you to lay back, “You shouldn’t move.”

“Was going to look for a blanket for you,” You admit sheepishly.

Ordo sighs softly, his large hand coming up to brush some of your hair out of your face, “Well, don’t. You haven’t been in a bacta tank yet.”

“I haven’t?”

“No, you have an infection and it needs to be cleared before we can stick you in a tank.” He still looks worried, “You weren’t supposed to wake up yet.” Ordo adds.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t be.” His hand moves to your cheek, to trace the bandage that you can feel there, “I’m glad that you’re awake. You scared me, cyare. I thought you were going to die in my arms.”

You feel a surge of guilt, “Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” He scans your face for a moment, and there’s a glimmer of sadness. Ordo’s fingers ghost over bruises, and against your lips, “My vod’e thought I was going to have a heart attack when we managed to decrypt your message.” He admits, “Cyar’ika, what were you doing in Separatist space?”

You blink at him, “I was following orders.” You say against his fingers.

Ordo’s fingers stop moving, and something cold slides across his face, “Come again?”

“My supervisor ordered me to Raxus for a field mission,” You clarify, “He said if I didn’t do it I’d lose my job.” You stare at him, “Why did you think I went to Raxus?”

“...your supervisor said that you defected from the Republic.”

Panic washes through you and you can hear the heart monitor start racing, “I didn’t! I wouldn’t! I had orders! I-”

“Hey. Hey, hey.” Ordo’s hands are so gentle against your face and the ice in his gaze thaws into something warmer, and for you alone, “I believe you. None of us believed what we were told. You need to calm down.” He doesn’t pull his hands away even after your panic subsides, “I’ll tell the others to do some digging, but we’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“...Thank you for coming after me.” You whisper.

He leans in and presses a light kiss against your forehead, “You can thank me by getting some rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“On my life.”

You release a quiet sigh. “I love you, Ordo.”

Finally, a small smile crosses his face, “I love you too, cyare.”

[wh1spyz]

HER WISH, HIS WISH || YANG JEONGIN

pair : childhoodfriend!jeongin x reader

genre : angst

warning : cursing, rejection, no happy ending

you confess your feelings to your best friend jeongin, but does he like you back?

quick a/n : hi everyone! first time posting on here. i used to be a wattpad writer but due to school and stuff i stopped writing. i just want to write for fun every here and there, so i probably wont post here constantly. sorry! anyways, enjoy :)

everyone wanted you to confess.

all of jeongin's friends knew about your crush on him, and it made you curious if he knew aswell. but clearly, he didnt know, and he was more oblivious then ever. you never really wanted to confess, you found the idea terrifying and you knew that if he didn't reciprocate your feelings, your friendship could be ruined. but his friends still urged you to make your feelings known to him (despite being obviously head over heels for him).

so here you were, sitting on the same couch in his apartment, watching him study. you had told yourself several times before you came over that you would tell him your feelings, despite being scared out of your damn mind. you watched him as he studied, and he looked handsome as always. you couldn't help but blurt out "i like you", like the dumbass you were before covering your mouth.

his gazed turn to you, a bit stunned by your sudden confession, and extremely confused aswell.

"what did you say y/n?"

you didnt know if you wanted to gaslight your crush into thinking you said nothing, run out of there as fast as possible, or genuinely admit the truth (the other 2 options sounded better to you, honestly). but you took a deep breath and decided to confess properly.

"i like you, jeongin. i've liked you for a long time. you've always put a smile on my face and make me feel happy, and i don't know what i would do without you. i've spent hours just thinking about... you, and only you. i really like you, alot."

the room was tense after your confession, a deafening silence that was killing you on the inside. before you heard the words you were dreading to hear. the words that shattered you into pieces when you heard them.

"y/n. i don't feel the same."

the words echoed in your head, the whole situation felt like a nightmare, a horrible one. it was like your whole world came crashing down. you were completely frozen, biting your bottom lip as you supressed the tears that threatened to seep through your eyes and stream down your face. your throat closed up and it seemed like you could curl up into a ball and die right then and there. you nodded slowly, standing up as you were getting ready to leave.

"i understand." you mumbled, grabbing your bag as you turned away from him, walking out of the dorm. you didn't want him to see you cry. he couldn't see you cry. atleast not because of him.

jeongin’s expression became more sad as he processed your reaction. he was unsure to comfort you, since he was the cause of your pain. so he just sat there, silent as you exited. and hearing the door shut just made his heart ache more. he didn’t expect your reaction. but he couldn’t bring himself to go outside. it was as if he couldn’t move. his thoughts racing. he was so conflicted and lost in them.

'why can’t i like her back…?', 'i don’t want her to be sad..', 'why do i feel so guilty?'. that was all that was going through his head as he sat on the couch, frozen.

a moment of silence passed. but the quiet atmosphere was shattered with the sound of jeongin shutting his laptop. he abruptly stood up.

“fuck.”

you were taking a cab back to your apartment, tears rolling down your cheeks as you sniffled silently. "you're an fucking idiot" is all that went through your head. why did you even confess? you ruined everything. that was for sure. your thoughts just kept getting more and more negative until you suddenly got a call from jeongin. knowing that he wanted to probably ask where you were, you were hesitant on picking up. but your heart was stronger than your head, so you picked up.

"y/n! fucking christ.. where are you?" you heard him the other side of the phone, sounding like he was grabbing his keys and his coat to go outside.

"jeongin, i'll be fine. i just need some time alone. if you come and try to make things right, it might turn out worse. please."

you were basically pleading with him, your voice was shaky and tired, trying to rub your tears away.

hearing your voice over the phone, it only made him feel even worse. his heart clenched and a wave of guilt washed over him once more, running his fingers through his hair.

“i-i know i said i didn’t feel the same but… i can’t leave you like this..” he spoke quietly, hesitating. "just tell me where you are.. please?"

you sigh, knowing that arguing with him wouldn't help much.

"in a cab, headed to my apartment."

jeongin listened to the sound of you sighing and he slightly relaxed at the fact that you told him where you were headed.

“okay..” he mumbled, biting his nail. he spoke again in a softer tone of voice. “i’m coming.”

you wince, having a small feeling that this was going to happen.

"please jeongin, can we just talk tomorrow..?"

he let out a shaky exhale. he didn’t want to upset you further, but he was also extremely stubborn.

“please.. i just want to make sure that you’re okay..” he pleaded once more, he truly cared about your well-being.

you groaned.

"goodness... okay, but youre not staying for long, 'kay?"

he smiled to himself, a sense of relief washing over him. it didn’t matter if he was only staying for a few minutes, at least he could see you.

“yeah.. i won’t stay long.”

he reassured you, grabbing his coat, keys and phone, before leaving the apartment.

"see you." he says before hanging up the phone and catching a cab himself to head to your house.

you watched him hang up the phone, running a hand through your hair, groaning. you looked out the window, seeing that you were basically at your apartment now, so you paid the driver as he parked and got out, heading inside to your apartment.

you changed into comfortable clothes as you waited for jeongin to arrive to your apartment, still somewhat crying and your tears stain the baggy white shirt you wore. you sat on the couch, running your fingers through your hair. you suddenly remembered a small conversation the two of you had as little kids.

"what would you do if a genie could grant you three wishes?" you asked jeongin with a toothy smile, sitting on the swings with him on a cold winter day, which was rare in busan.

"genies dont exist..."

"oh shut up! what if they did?"

"i would wish..." jeongin thought about the question for a moment before answering. "to be rich! super duper rich!"

you rolled your eyes with a frown, kicking the snow infront of you.

"thats so boring!!"

"oh yeah? then what would you wish for?"

you paused for a moment, smiling at him again when you had your wish.

"i would wish to be your friend forever! i want to be your friend for as long as possible!"

he laughed and threw a snowball at you. "thats so stupid."

you gasp as he threw the snowball at you, pouting.

"so you dont want to be my friend?? wow.. how mean can you get.."

"i didnt mean it like that! goodness.."

you glared at him, still pouting.

"then what did you mean?"

he smiled at you, sweetly.

"we are gonna be friends no matter what, always and forever. you wouldn't need a wish."

you smiled back at him.

"promise?"

"promise."

you got snapped out of your trance as you heard a knock on the door, rushing to it. after a few seconds, you opened the door to meet jeongin's eyes. you looked tired, and it was definitely obvious you were previously crying from your tear stained shirt.

"come in." you mumbled.

when the door opened and you revealed yourself, his heart ached. your red puffy eyes and tear-stained top were the first things that he noticed. he looked at you with a mix of guilt and sadness.

he slowly walked in, taking off his shoes and coat, setting them aside. without a word, he walked closer to you. jeongin hesitated before pulling you into a tight embrace. his mind was a mess but one thing he knew for sure, he was happy to be close to you right now.

you were extremely tense due to the hug, and you werent sure if this was right. he didnt like you, why was he hugging you, comforting you? you didnt know. so many thoughts were racing through your mind and you couldnt relax.

you wish things were different.

jeongin could feel the tension in your body as he held you. he pulled you closer, gently rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you.

he closed his eyes, pressing his cheek against your head. he wanted to stay like this for a while. he needed to be close to you. but at the same time, he felt conflicted. like he shouldn’t be doing this since he didn’t feel the same.

he wishes things couldve stayed the same.

after a while, he finally spoke. his voice was soft and gentle. he was still torn but he had to say something.

“i’m.. sorry.. i’m really sorry..” he mumbled, his voice coming out a bit shaky.

"its not your fault that you don't reciprocate my feelings. i shouldn't have confessed in the first place. i should be the one apologizing." you said with a sigh.

jeongin’s heart ached, as you spoke those words. he tightened his embrace around you, not letting go.

“no.. don’t apologize.. please..”

he was trying to hold back the tears, his eyes burning. there was too much going through his mind right now.

he held you tighter against his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head. he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. guilt and sadness filling him.

“you.. you don’t know how much i wish i could like you..” he muttered.

"you cant force yourself to like me to make me happy."

you mumble, rubbing his back reassuringly. as much as you wished he liked you back, you wanted him to be honest more than anything.

he buried his head in the crook of your neck. you were being the reasonable one right now. he was so confused and conflicted about his feelings. why couldn’t he like you? why did it hurt him when he had to reject you?

“then.. why does it hurt me..?” he mumbled, his voice was shaky.

you sigh.

"because we're friends. if i was the reason a friend of mine is crying, it would hurt me aswell, not just them."

you mutter, trying to reason with him and calm him down.

"you didnt mean to hurt me, and it wouldve hurt more if you lied to me. so its better that you told the truth to me."

jeongin closed his eyes, listening to your words. he knew you were right but he couldn’t help but feel guilty and conflicted. he hummed in agreement, holding you tighter. he didn’t know what to do with the whirlwind of emotions inside him. he mumbled once more.

“i don’t want to lose you..”

you wrap your arms around him, hugging him back finally.

"youre not going to lose me anytime soon."

jeongin took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. your presence was comforting and he was grateful for your reassurance. he muttered, keeping his head tucked in your shoulder.

“promise?”

you nodded, hugging him tight.

"promise."

he closed his eyes once again, breathing in your scent. for some reason, he didn’t want to let go. he was supposed to leave after minutes but he wanted to stay for longer. to be near you longer. he gently rested his forehead against your shoulder, feeling your warmth and closeness. the warmth felt so wrong, but so right. after a moment of silence, he spoke, his voice barely above a soft whisper.

“stay like this with me for a few more minutes.. please?”

you sigh, a little hesitant to stay like this longer, knowing your feelings for him still lingered, and this seemed wrong. he knew it just as much as you did. but you hummed in agreement anyways, not pulling away.

jeongin smiled against your shoulder, hearing you agree to let him stay a bit longer. he knew you were probably hesitating due to your feelings for him, but he didn’t want to let go. he needed this, he needed you right now. his grip on your waist tightened slightly, his body pressing against yours. it was as if he wanted to stay like this forever, not caring about the time.

he mumbled as he held you, feeling a wave of sadness wash over him.

“i wish i could like you..”

you sighed again, feeling guilty for liking him.

"its okay."

you mumbled, knowing that you wished the same thing aswell.

your feelings continued to linger for months, a year or two, but he still didn't like you back.

he only realized his feelings for you were clearer than the blue, summer skies when you were gone. when you moved away from busan to start a new life.

the promise was broken.

and sure, the wishes came true. but just like his feelings, they came true much too late.

"she was my wish, the only wish i couldn't make come true."

[peaceoutofthepieces]

4 + kandreil for the ask game ? hope you’re doing well <33

you could not have chosen better tysm

4. Shut-Up Kiss

Andrew berates Neil endlessly for running his mouth, but Neil has never known anyone to rant as pointlessly and frequently as Kevin. Sometimes it's almost charming; Kevin's love for history sends him on tangents of fascination every now and again, especially with a drink or two loosening his tongue, and his genuine respect and fanboy adoration for the Trojans—and Jeremy Knox—is almost sweet. Sometimes it's concerning; Kevin's breathing turns ragged and his eyes grow foggy when his mind returns to the Nest, and sometimes, now, commentary will come with it, the knowledge that Riko can't touch him anymore allowing Kevin to tell some of the stories that have refused to die with Riko, at least when Andrew and Neil are the only ones around to hear it.

Other times, it's annoying as shit. In these instances, Neil cannot help thinking Kevin's tattoo is glaringly accurate.

Kevin is nothing if not a drama queen.

"You have been doing this drill for two years," Kevin rants now, eyes full of thundery frustration as he looks down at Neil. "You should have long perfected it, even without the addition of your captaincy, and soon I will not be here to pick up your slack. I do not understand how you expect to–"

The thing about Kevin's ranting now is that it's annoying as shit, but the angrier Neil is at Kevin these days the more he wants him. Neil doesn't—will never—find Kevin's scoldings endearing or amusing or anything of the sort, too short of temper as he is, but he has always found a pull in response to Kevin's fire because of how terribly it matches his own.

The thing about Kevin's ranting now is that Neil can still fantasise about punching him while kissing him instead.

Kevin makes a noise against Neil's mouth, indignant and pissed off and wanting, and the fire in Neil's veins stokes higher, burns hotter. He curls a hand around Kevin's neck and draws him down, down, satisfied only when Kevin's arms fall to his waist and pull him up in response.

They only startle apart when a ball thwacks the floor a few inches from their feet, both breathing hard. Neil feels a savage smile curl his lips at the sight of Kevin's hooded eyes, his lips parted and silent.

Then he looks over at Andrew, who appears as bored as ever to anyone who knows him less, but to Neil is amused and annoyed and interested all at once, if only for how his gaze bores into them. He raises an eyebrow at Neil, and Neil is shrugging before he has even consciously decoded the expression, agreeing yes, alright, I'm stealing your moves now.

"Thanks for the show," Andrew says, dryly, and Kevin makes another wordless noise somewhere between dismissive and craving. "Are you done yet?"

To give credit where credit is due, in the past few months of embedding himself more deeply in them than ever before, Kevin had found the remainder of his spine and has been learning to recover himself remarkably quickly. He presses his palm to the dip of Neil's spine and meets Andrew's eyes to return, "Eager to get back to the dorms?"

Andrew flicks his gaze over to Neil, and Neil obliges; Andrew is not quite close enough, but Neil is more than happy to kiss Kevin quiet again.

send me a number + ship

[flipcupbrandon]

The Weight of a Soul

I am. not a writer, even in the slightest. but i've been having a really rough day with source trauma and i thought that maybe writing everything out like a narrative might help me at least break out of the fixation on it after a second. So, i did write it out, and it's under the cut

tw for gore

Also please keep in mind that while i'm ok with reblogging and commenting on this, i'm an introject. i remember this like a memory, not like a story or like minecraft. This isn't fanfiction to me, it's something i feel like i've genuinely experienced. Thank you.

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

Minute knows how this is going to end. He has known, ever since the beginning. Since he went on the record, sticking to what he believed in the most: peace. On that day, he’d signed his own death certificate and he knew it. What he didn’t know, however, was that his closest friend would be the executioner. Obviously, ClownPierce wouldn’t have been too keen on the idea of a peaceful end, Minute wasn’t stupid enough to believe that, but maybe he’d been naive enough to think that just maybe everything would end with his impeachment. That had hurt enough as it had been, but this? This was a new pain. Grieving, loss, hopelessness- there were many words to put to it, but none quite summarized it. 

He stole a glance over his shoulder. Yes, Minute knew he was going to die, but he wasn’t going to just let Clownpierce have it. The Clown was gaining on him, and fast. That was precisely why Wemmbu had hired him for the job: he was beyond just an efficient killer. The steady rhythm of Minute’s feet hitting the ground picked up frantically. An arrow struck his armor. Every piece was becoming worn and less reliable as he suffered each blow. His helmet had completely shattered only a few moments ago. Reaching into his inventory, he clutched his last ender pearl and threw it as far as he possibly could. A final shot at escape. 

He didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t. His body begged for him too. Breathing stung like the various cuts he’d sustained through the fight. In that even, it was less of a fight and more of a pursuit. Finally, Minute teleported. He knew better than to stop now, so he fought against the pain settling into his bones and kept up his sprint. Most of his inventory had been exhausted. No shield, no ender pearls, no food, no help. His sword would be of no use, since he couldn’t stop long enough to deflect arrows, and his health was low enough that the fall damage alone would be too risky. An unmistakable fwoop sound came from just behind him, and within another second, his chestplate crumbled with another arrow. 

Minute wasn’t one to fear death. No, he never had before. At 20 hearts, usually you’re invincible. With Clownpierce as an ally on top of that? You effectively were. But neither was the case anymore. What a fool he really had been to trust someone with such a reputation. An even greater fool he was for thinking he was safe. His eyes burn with tears. He can’t even remember the last time he cried. It hurts. It hurts worse than any physical wound he’s got. The scars over his torso, the bleeding arrow wound making it all the more difficult to move. It hurts all the worse as his foot catches a  root and he’s sent toppling to the ground. All he can do is curl himself into a ball and weep. The bells on Clown’s hood jingle slightly, as though announcing his presence. Minute chokes out a sob and tries to force himself up, but the arrow in his back isn’t quite letting him get there. Clown takes another set of steps. It feels almost like he’s savoring the moment. His foot lands on his former friend’s tail, forcing out a cry of pain. 

Clown sighs, and pushes Minute onto his back with his foot, pushing it against his shoulder. Minute can hardly breathe, between the tears and pain, and he can’t see either. He tries to shield his torso with his hands, but he knows what comes next. Clown, without saying anything, pulls out his sword and forces it through Minute’s arm first, then continues, going all the way through his stomach. His mouth fills with blood, and within a few more moments, he finally dies. 

Once he’s certain the job is done, Clown crouches down and picks up the heart that’s left behind. 

[thenarwhalthatdoesfics]

◇Let me count them◇

Ler!alan & lee reader

(And a lil ler reader at the end)

Summary: alan finds out your ticklish and takes advantage of it

●Author note: this is the first character x reader that i just did but this fic is inspired from my dream that I just had to)●

Warning: flustering and fluff & foot tickles

Pls don't read it if your uncomfortable with this type of stuff don't do alright

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

Alan and you were sitting in the couch alan wrapped around his arms around you while watching a movie and you were about to sleep until you felt something brush on your side as you sqeauked as alan look over to his right and raise a eyebrow at u.

You trying to act like nothing happened but it happened again as you yelp and grab alan wrist u look at alan as he had a smirk on across his face

You were trying to squirm out of his grasp but successfully pinned u as you had a nervous grin on your face.

Alan: hehe seem like somebody has weak spot~

You shaked your head to determined to make him stop and let it go as he teasingly go to your ribs as he counted your ribs

Alan: 1~ 2~ 3~

You were holding in your giggles as they bubbled up in you as alan keeps doing this silly counting along your ribs with scribbles.

Alan: 6~7~8~9

Your face was genuinely red at this point almost like alan skin, as when alan done counting he goes off

as he tickles your tummy and armpits back and forth, as you burst out your laughter as u laugh like a hyena as alan had charming smile on his face,

While he tickled u ruthlessly. You try squirming to try to run but alan was stronger as he pinched and prodded your belly,

You: HEHEHEHAHAHEHE NOHOHO ALAHAHAN PLEHEHESHEHESE NOHOHO

Alan: nope i won't, this is my entertainment right here in my arms.

You were hiccuping in your laughter as he moved his long neck to your belly as he raspberried & nibbled your tummy as he moved down to your legs as you covered your face to hide your blush while you were feeling like u about to die from the teasing,

You:OHOHOHOHO GOHOHOD STOHOHOHOHOPHA THIHIHIS

It was interesting for alan to show the other side of him than being a stressed like critter who want to be alone

He stopped for a moment for u to take a breather you were glad ur boyfriend let u have fresh air it was only for short moment

You: hah huh ha good u sto- hey wait though u were done!

as Alan moved down to your feet, and straddled them obviously, as he started doing that tease counting stuff again, this time on your toes

You were giggling even though he didn't do anything yet, He dragged out his words out to flustered u

Alan: 1~ 2~ 3~ oh no now i had to started over again 1~2

Your face is immediately red like a tomato from all of this flustering counting, He just secretly loves ur blush on your face as He continues to "count" on your feet, as when he done doing the silly little counting

He tickles ur feet and tighten his hold on your ankles as he scratches and Scribbles ur feet

As you shrieked in laughter you twist and turned to get away, and it was impossible to get out of the red critter's grasp and he was enjoying this until he heard u wheeze as he stop and let go.

U immediately clutched ur knees to your body, and curl up into a ball while leftover giggles come out of your body as alan let u have space as u plot to do revenge

As you sit up and curled up to alan as he apologized

Alan: mmm sorry bae i just got carried away

You: your forgiven alan

And now this was your chance to do it as you tickle his armpits as the critter laughed and launch his neck back while laughing and honking like a goose as he pounced back at you

As u two have a tickle fight together for while and when it stop

You & alan were sleeping on top of eachother while the movie ends with the credits on the tv

The end

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

[somerandomcryptid]

Ok so this is a dreaming of death wip I did a while ago that I will probably rewrite at somepoint because the pacing's weird to me but I like the characterizations, and how I did Cryptid's inner monologue so I'm just posting it here :)

“Dream?” Their voice cracks when his name leaves their lips. He looks so…. Apologetic…It looks so genuine…

“I missed you….” He mumbles, and they're pulled into a hug, it's loose grip, gentle. It doesn't feel natural for him. Not after the months of crushing affection. His sharp fingers run themselves through their hair, scratching their scalp in a way that is all too relaxing.

“You're not mad at me for-” Wait. Sharp. They immediately grab his wrist. “Stop fucking with my head, XD.” XD’s lips -they're not his, get out of his body get out get out get out- curl up into a smirk.

He grabs their jaw roughly, pulling them onto their tip toes in a way Dream had done so often when he was angry. Apologize apologize apologize, their head rings out with immediate commands for response, I need to make it- XD was just fucking with their head. They knee him in the stomach, they would have fallen if not for his hand holding them up.

“You know you can't hurt me right?” XD comments amusedly. They roll their eyes.

“Worth a shot. Now let me go and-” The god interrupts them. Bitch-

“You still miss him so much. After all the things he's done, you still miss him. After you were so adamant of to leave him, to stop the pain. And then you still embrace what you think to be him like a sad little puppy. Tell me, little one, is the true reason you don't want to go back because you know you’ll always cave to him. You’ll always let him mold you into whatever you want. To break you just because he can, to fuel his own selfish want for affection. You're so desperate that you'd endure that? What we’re your parents like to make that w-”

“Get them out of your mouth. You don't fucking get to yoink me out of my life and then have the gawl to ask why I’m so fucked in the head.” They hiss out, grabbing the wrist holding their jaw and wrenching themself out of his hold. “Now get out of my head. And get out of his body for fucks sake.” XD chuckles.

“It's amusing you think you can order me around.” He starts pacing around them, god they hate it when he does that.

“Well it is my mind, logic would say I control it.” They respond, rolling their eyes, he just bursts out laughing, his smile way too wide for Dream’s face.

“When have you ever controlled your own mind, my little puppet?” ew. Hate that pet name. “I mean one doesn't even have to be a god to make you into a shell to fill with their own ideas. With their own wants. You’d break your own spine if it meant you felt like you belonged.” It's not true, it's not true, it's not true-

“Just get out of my head XD, I don't want to- I’m not talking about this.” XD laughs again, such a grating sound.

“You know it! You know your a fucking push over. You know you are so mentally weak!” His voice is even more gleeful now. It makes them want to slap him and curl up into a ball and die all at once.

“Just leave me alone XD.” They won't cry, they won't cry, they won't cry. XD’s grin practically gets wider, if that's even possible.

“Oh please do cry. You cry so enjoyably.” No no no no, they don't want to cry in front of him. They can’t, he didn't even say anything that bad. You don't need to- they wipe their eyes. Crybaby. Stupid fucking tears.

They properly curl up, burying their head in their knees.

“Please just wake me up.” It's embarrassingly a whine, but they can’t help it. They just need out. They need out, they need out, they- XD crouches down beside them, pulling their head out of their knees. He’s still grining too fucking wide. And they still want to collapse into him and just cry. No. Don't do that. Absolutely don't.

“See? Weak.” He coos.

“But, I suppose I’ve had my fun. For tonight at least.” With that they shoot up from their bed, gasping for proper breaths and their face sticky with tears. Fuck. That was hell.

They slide out of bed, it's in the early hours of the morning. But they’ve decided they never want to sleep again. Not if that fucker is going to taunt them in their dreams.They try to traverse the house as quietly as they can, they just want a drink of water, and maybe to burn their soul somewhere so they don't have to deal with any of this shit anymore. But when they get to the kitchen Sam is still up, tinkering with some kind of gadget, Fran sleeping on his foot.

Sam’s also not wearing his gas mask, it's the first time they’ve ever seen him without it. He glances up and clearly spots them, his eyes going wide once he notices that they’ve clearly been crying.He rushes up, disturbing Fran in the process, who looks dejected for a few seconds before following Sam to them.

“What happened? Are you hurt? nightmares? Are you homesick? What do you need?” Sam’s voice is going very fast, and he looks them up and down for wounds. They’re a bit taken aback. And they can't process that many things right now.

“Please slow down.” They mumble, rubbing their temples in an attempt to ground themself. They hear Sam let out a breath, one of those self regulatory ones.

“Sorry kid. I just… panicked.. that's all. Do you.. do you… how can I.. how can I make you feel better?” Don't hug him don't hug him don't-

They hug him. He tentatively hugs them back, like they're made out of glass and easily breakable, which they suppose they are for him. They can feel their eyes start to sting as just… everything comes crashing down at them at once. They’ve had these moments before, where everything they’ve been through just properly hits them again. But usually they happen alone.

“Kid.. please tell me what's going on… I want to help you…” His voice is soft, and it brings them some amount of comfort.

“I just…. I just want this all to be over… I just want it to be simple again…” They mumble into his chest, they can feel their tears soaking into his sweater, they really hope he doesn't mind. Sam sighs.

“I’m so sorry you got pulled into this Cryptid… you didn't deserve that…” He murmurs back to them. “But I promise I will keep you safe, I’ll try to make it at least somewhat normal for you. I promise. You're just a kid. You shouldn't be involved in all of this.” That makes them sob more, not because of their usual disgust about the idea, but because he's right.

They feel Fran nudge their hip before they can spiral about that too much. The let go off Sam so they can sit down and hug Fran, who curls up in their lap, despite being too big for it. So they snuggle against her, nuzzling their face into her fur, Fran doesn't seem to mind getting wet either, just seeming concerned with making them feel better.

They hear Sam sit down beside them, and the immediately lay their head in his lap, still with Fran in their lap. It's a bit of an uncomfortable position sure, but Sam runs his finger through their hair gently. And that combined with Fran helps calm them. At least a bit.

“I won't let him hurt you again.” Sam mumbles after a few moments. They almost say something dumb about fighting a god before realizing Sam means Dream, not XD.They don't have a response to that. “Do you… do you still think Dream is the good guy?” He asks, sounding almost afraid to receive the answer. Thankfully a smartass response comes to their head before a logical one.

“I think good guys and bad guys are a concept constructed by territory instincts. Actually! Overall it seems that most bases for morality are based around territorial and pack instincts. Oh fun fact actually! The conditions that create sapien life probably also create as byproduct discrimination due to differences due to sapiance being linked to extremely competitive environments such that learning new things rapidly and passing on such information becomes necessary for survival!” Do they start going on a ramble to ignore having to confront that question, to have to categorize Dream as… something? Yes. They don't even want to think about Dream, much less categorize him. So yeah they totally do it to distract themself.

But it is a genuinely interesting topic! So they manage to ramble for a while, and then that ramble somehow turns into a ramble about cat genetics, and to his credit Sam listens, he looks a bit sad looking at them, but he listens, and he does seem interested. The next thing they know it it’s 3:45am and oh god they’ve been info dumping about everything they know about evolution and cat genetics for almost an hour and a half.

“Sorry, I’m probably boring you.” They finally say, but Sam doesn't look bored or annoyed when they look up at him, his gaze is affectionate

“You're not. I think it's really cool you're so interested in this kind of thing. I didn't expect it.” He almost reminds them of their mom in how he says it, which is to say, genuinely proud and interested. They can't help but smile at him, even though they still feel bad for keeping him up so late.

“Yeah, but you probably want to go to bed by now.” They reply apologetically. He ruffles their hair fondly, but he looks almost sad.

-

God this kid. They apologize so much, for things that aren't even anything to apologize for, if Dream is the reason they feel the need to do this- He reminds himself to calm down as he feels the gunpowder rize in his throat. Those small sparks die down as he looks back at Cryptid, and his heart melts.

“It really wouldn't have mattered, kid. I have a really hard time sleeping anyway.” They still look so guilty.

-

HOW THE FUCK IS THAT 1.7K???? Idk but ughhhhhh why does the pacing have to feel weird when it's so many words.

Um anyway sorry it's unfinished and needs reworking I just wanted to post the original so it didn't rot in my docs

Writing Cryptid pov is very therapeutic and easy because they think in the same style as me :)

(Dreaming of death is an au of the fic Penpal by @calamari-minecraft-corner)

[nerves-nebula]

Do current events ever make you feel so unsure and afraid and physically sick with worry for others and about violent political trends that only seem to be getting worse that you wanna curl into a ball and genuinely die because you can’t see things getting better and you don’t even have the energy to do your mundane daily tasks and homework without sleeping for hours every evening which only makes things worse and you can’t help but want to end it all just to get out of this world you never fit into even in the best of times but also you’re afraid that if you kill yourself you’ll just wake up as a new person in a worse situation. Nothing horrifies me in these moments quite like the fear that reincarnation is real and I will never ever escape this.