#i never know what to do in these situations ive never felt outed in quite this way before

[mgsdelta]

ever just been filled with murderous AND suicidal intent?

[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 II

Part I Part III Part IV

Thank you so much for the love for the first one! 💞 There are so many ways I can imagine how this story can go and it's hard to pick one or try merging all the ideas. Nonetheless, I hope this meets your expectations!

CW: Stalking, Breaking and entering, Violence(Being stabbed, beating up a thief), Blood, (Menstion of past) Kidnapping

You had officially moved into your apartment in Bludhaven

Everything has moved so quickly and now you can finally relax

You gave up connecting with your family, got kidnapped, died, came back to life and moved out

It may be a bit much to pick the farthest college from the manor but you’re clearly unwanted there

Your family has neglected you and didn't do anything when you were kidnapped, so you have every right to be as far away from them as possible

It was honestly quite lucky that you were already accepted into a college in Bludhaven during your senior year. If you had applied after your kidnapping, the chances of you getting in would have been low.

But you’re here now and can finally feel happy. Well, if you don't count some of the nightmares you get from when you “died”.

Sometimes you do wonder how you survived that gunshot. Were you not hit somewhere vital? But then, where was the hole?

A part of you was curious and wanted to replicate the injury but that would be painful. You surviving the gunshot also could have been a one-time thing

You never ended up going to the police or the hospital because what were they going to do? You don’t have any proof that it even happened because your injury is gone, the blood left at the abandoned building is likely dried up and doesn’t look fresh, and Bruce probably threw away the ransom letter. 

The only proof you have that it even happened is your memories and you telling your friends. But the police or doctors would just look at you and say “You look fine now, no need to look into the situation anymore.” 

But enough about that though, you’ve got a few more hours before it gets dark and you want to get to know about the area.

It is still the middle of summer so your college classes haven't started yet. You could have waited until class started to move but you wanted to be out before Alfred returned from his vacation.

Alfred was the closest thing to family in the manor. But he and Bruce have never felt like safe adults to share your problems with. 

He should be back from his vacation now, has he found out about your kidnapping or did Bruce cover it up? He probably did to avoid getting news out. You should probably look into how you can change your surname.

Just as you finish your thoughts about the manor, you use your laptop to find interesting places in the area before heading out the door with directions in a notebook

Bruce and the rest of the family may know where you are currently, but bringing you back home was the hard part. Alfred had to convince Bruce that if he wanted you back, he shouldn’t just barge in all of a sudden. 

You’ve been hurt by the family's actions and won't return without a fight. 

But even then, Bruce has to see you. The entire family needs to see you with their own eyes at least once.

With this in mind, the whole family decides to take a small road trip to Bludhaven. They’d find you and figure out the best way to approach you without scaring you off. 

It was almost sundown when the family got to Bludhaven. They change into their vigilante gear so it’d be easier to hide in the shadows

Tim loads up the tracker on your phone and leads the way. It seems the tracker you have isn't the best because once the family gets close to your apartment, your phone just says your laptop is nearby instead of its exact location. 

No problem though, Tim can easily hack into the computer system for the apartment and find which room is yours.

Once your room is found, the family takes a peek inside. You’re nowhere to be found, which is a little worrying.

The locks on your windows are broken as the family opens them and sneaks inside. Your living room and kitchen are littered with boxes but that’s it. They each take a look around to find you but come out empty-handed. If you were here, they may do exactly what Alfred discouraged and just take you home. However, because you aren’t home, the only other place you could be is outside. Where it’s dark out and you’re alone.

Worried for your safety, the family immediately goes on another search for your

Because you could be anywhere, the family decides to split up to find you

You look around as you walk back to your apartment, a few small bags of food and snacks in your hands. Because it’s getting dark, you do begin to pick up the pace. You’re so focused on not getting home that you don’t notice when a person peeks over at you from a rooftop.

You’re just about to pass a convenience store when someone runs out and knocks into you. The person curses as they quickly get up and reach for their bag of stolen goods. Filled with adrenaline, the thief takes out a knife and stabs you. They were aiming to kill you so there weren’t any witnesses but ended up putting the knife in your shoulder. As the thief makes a run for it, a certain vigilante quickly blocks their path

Nightwing goes full force on the thief. How dare they hurt his baby bird. He refuses to make the same mistake of leaving you alone and hurt.

Your heart is racing as you attempt to pull the knife out of your shoulder. Your eyelids feel weak but you refuse to fall asleep. Unlike before, you aren’t restrained and can still escape.

You pull the knife out and let it fall on the ground next to you. After a few breaths, you do your best to stand up. You take a small glance at Nightwing before quickly running back to your apartment. 

Once inside, you almost collapse on the floor but try to get your first aid kit.

Your bandaging may not be that good but the best but it’s enough for you to feel comfortable sleeping for the night

Nightwing got a few swings in before he heard the sound of something falling onto the ground

He looks up to see that you've pulled the knife out of you and about to stand up

Before Nightwing could help you, his opponent throws a punch while he was distracted.

The vigilante shifts his attention to the thief when you suddenly make an escape. Night wing attempts to call out to you but it appears you didn't notice.

He sighs as he handcuffs the thief. This guy was such a hassle that Nightwing almost forgot why he was in such a hurry to wrap up the whole situation

The vigilante turns to where you were but only finds a bloodied knife and the bags you left behind. He carefully picks up the bags and knife while he considers where you have gone.

Spotting a trail of blood, Nightwing quickly follows it, contacting the rest of the family as well

The family gathers at the same spot near your apartment and finds you sleeping in your bed. Wanting to help you, Nightwing comes up with an idea

You lay on your bed, waiting for sleep to consume you when a knock comes from your door. You try to ignore it but the knocking continues. The only thing that gets you up is the realization that the knocking is too loud to be from your door. Opening your eyes, you realize that someone is at your window. 

Getting up, you pick up your pepper spray as you slowly walk towards the window. You have your curtains closed so you try to peek past them to see who is there

Who you see is Nightwing and it gets you worried. Does he think you were involved with that other person? He must have seen that the thief stabbed you at least

Not wanting to make the vigilant wait, you open your window slightly. Only enough so you can hear what Nightwing has to say

Nightwing happily greets you and shows you the bag of items that you left behind when leaving the scene.

Surprised, you thank Nightwing and open the window. Making sure to not open the window more than necessary, just enough to collect the bags

Just as you reach for it, the vigilante points out your bandaged shoulder. He goes on to say the importance of properly handling injuries and offers to rebandage your arm.

It takes you a couple of moments before you agree to his help.

Like a big brother, he sits you down and redoes the bandages. Honestly, it makes you wish your actual big brothers would care for you in this way. Even though one of them is right in front of you

Once your shoulder has properly been bandaged, you thank Nightwing for his help. He offers to stay the night but you tell him that you’d be fine. Plus, doesn’t he still have to take care of Bludhaven

You make sure to close and lock your window once Nightwing leaves before going back to bed.  As sleep consumes you, your whole family watches from a distance. You didn’t seem to recognize Dick as Nightwing so it may be possible to get you to trust them before taking you home

[hannieehaee]

hi!!!! im wondering if you could do a story about idol mingyu, idol reader, and a story about how mingyu couldnt control himself after seeing his girlfriend perform a hot performance on an end of the year award show because she looked stunning, and he also then accidentally reveals their relationship. TYSM!!💞

content: idol!mingyu x idol!reader, established relationship, secret relationship, mingyu is a simp, afab reader, public embarrassment (not really), part of my lil idol!mingyu universe (even though ive created three separate aus of it oops), dry humping, penetrative sex, mentions of fingering, etc.

wc: 1429

a/n: thank u for requesting i love writing idol aus hehe hope u enjoy <3

original fic

masterlist

as a seasoned idol, mingyu was expected by now to have a pristine ability hold restraint in any and every public situation that required it.

there were certain ways in which he was expected to act while in the public eye.

for instance, he could never outwardly express discomfort at the few awkward fancalls he had to participate in. nor could he show dislike towards the few members of the industry he didn't quite get along with.

but above all, he was absolutely never to wear the lust he felt for you on his face in such a public setting.

especially not during an awards show that was being streamed internationally.

even more so while the camera was focused on seventeen for their reactions of your performance.

but mingyu was just a man after all. a man who was thoroughly and proudly obsessed with you.

except this was meant to be a secret kept between the two of you (and maybe a few other people you had let in on the secret).

so mingyu immediately knew he was fucked the moment your set had begun and you came out wearing the tiniest little number he had ever seen. it hugged your body perfectly, highlighting his favorite parts in the most delicious ways.

it might've been fine if that had been it, but your pretty outfit was also accompanied by the most sinful of sets he had ever seen you do.

watching you grind and twist yourself in ways that reminded him of the many hours spent between the sheets with you was just not something mingyu knew how to witness without it eliciting a reaction out of him.

and sadly for mingyu, his face told every single one of his emotions.

his droopy and lustful eyes said everything they needed to say on their own, but they were also accompanied by the constant biting and licking of his lips as he watched you.

the one thing he didn't realize, however, was that the camera had been on him that whole time, airing his reactions to your performance for everyone out there to see. it had even managed to capture the gruttal groan he'd let out the moment you started grinding sensually on the floor (in a fashion similar to the way you did to him so many times before).

it wasn't until one boo seungkwan kicked him from under the table to get him to react like something other than an animal in heat and clap for you like a normal human being.

but the damage was done, and now so he felt extremely self conscious for the remainder of the show, not knowing what type of rumors to expect to see the following morning.

for now, though, his priority was to catch you during the intermediate time between your show and that of his own group. fortunately for him, there was one group going between your group and his, allowing him a believable excuse to head backstage with his members and go astray as he looked for you before your own group had to head back.

without so much as a single word, he grabbed you by the arm and dragged you to the nearest empty room he could find, immediately locking the two of you in there as his eyes got a fill on you in your current ensemble; the main instigator of this whole predicament.

"gyu, what the hell are you-"

"no talking. fuck. please, just-" there was genuine desperation in his words. his frantic eyes showed how badly he wanted you, but he didnt even know where to start. so he let his body take control of his actions.

it started with a rough yet sensual kiss against your lips as his hands got a feel of your body. he groped and caressed every inch of you, his lust growing more and more by the second.

"made me make a fool of myself out there, baby," he grunted, lips now trailing down your exposed shoulder, making their way up and down your neck with wet kisses, "couldnt keep my eyes off you the whole time."

"g-gyu," you were defeated against him, allowing your body to be handled however he wanted as long as he kept touching you. he relished on this.

"they saw everything. the way i couldnt keep my eyes off of you ... the way one single look at you can get me on my knees in one instant, fuck", he uncovered as much of your body as he could, raising your skirt while lowering your shirt, "they all know how much i want you."

but you didnt process nor care for his words as he ground his solid member against your now bare cunt (sans some very thin seamless panties that accompanied your skirt), completely lost to the delirious feeling his cock gave you even through his pants.

he kept whispering in your ear just how badly you'd affected him just now, how everyone now knew how pretty you must look when you ride him – all while he hastily lowered his pants and moved your own panties aside, plunging inside as soon as you gave him the okay.

"f-fuck ... feel so fucking good, baby," he breathed against your ear.

he lifted one of your legs up, wrapping it around his waist in order to get a better angle as he thrust desperately into you. the praises leaving his mouth never stopped, only getting less and less intelligible as his arousal grew.

"o-oh, gyu ... right there ..."

"there? fuck ... baby likes it when i fuck her right there?", his taunts were followed by harsher thrusts, causing your nails to dig into his bare arms, "a-ah, shit! 'm baby's gonna leave her mark on me, huh? yeah ... go ahead, pretty. let everyone know i'm yours .."

"m-mine!"

"mhm, gorgeous, just like you're all mine," he opted to carry you now, holding you up against the wall as he moved your body to his pleasing, "fuck, wish i could mark you. show everyone who you belong to," he buried his face in your neck, simply opting to breathe in your scent as he landed soft kisses on the length of your neck.

"do it!," you begged mindlessly, "please? wan' everyone t-to know 'm yours," you babbled.

"fuck," he groaned before following your direction and beginning to nip at the naked skin of your neck. quickly he left a few blossoms of red on your skin, knowing that the moment you went out there, people would be able to spot a few from afar.

with his face buried in your neck, he timed himself so he could orgasm with you, having mastered the art of playing with your clit just at the right time to synchronize your highs.

mingyu stayed glued to you for a while, unwilling to let go as he panted against your neck, attempting to even out his breathing.

"how are you gonna go and perform out there completely out of breath and with scratches on your shoulders?", you giggled.

"i ... oh, fuck."

it was too late for him to realize that although you wouldn't be too scrutinized for your disheveled appearance due to your performance being over with, he, on the other hand, would still have to go out there and dance in front of a huge audience. the error of his ways was lost on him the moment he hardened under his pants at the mere sight of you dancing.

but hell, it had been worth it.

"baby, just ask your stylist for a jacket, okay?", you disconnected from him, knowing it was almost time for him to perform.

you pulled your clothes back together, wincing at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and grabbing some nearby napkins to clean yourself as much as possible, as well as him. once the two of you were presentable, you gave your boyfriend a kiss for goodluck and headed back to your seat while mingyu walked over to his members backstage.

though no dramatic dating scandal broke out that day, various rumors questioning mingyu's lustful eyes during your performance began sparking up, with some people making the connection in the timeline of his mishap and your sudden reappearance in the crowd, with a messy, post-sex look accompanying both you and mingyu.

despite hybe ignoring any and every article insinuating anything between the two of you, you had now created a subsection of fans who were dedicated to unveiling what they were sure (and correct) was a secret love affair between the two of you.

[icallhimjoey]

eddie?! 👀 did you say EDDIE?!?! 👀👀👀👀

i DID say eddie! i had a tiny idea that fit the version of eddie ive written before (and the only version of eddie ive written before) and so... here we are. i am: so sorry. Wordcount: 6.6K

---

Let’s Go Home

(find all other parts of this story here)

“Let’s go get him.”

You sound very determined for someone completely unsure of how to handle the situation. It’s difficult to watch someone so deeply unhappy struggle with parts of their past they can’t seem to get a grip on.

“I… what?” two wet, red-rimmed eyes stare back at you. Confused. A little annoyed.

“Yea. Come on. Let’s go. We’re packing our bags and we’re going to go pick him up and bring him back here.”

Eddie doesn’t get it. Frowns, entirely unsure of who you’re talking about.

“Steve’s already here… and Wayne is coming here for Christmas, we don’t need to–…” he looks so tired.

“I know we don’t need to.”

It always happened when the days got a little shorter. When the nights got colder and Christmas loomed. When happy, wholesome family moments would be advertised all over the world, and it all became glaringly obvious – once again – how that was something Eddie never got to be a part of when he was little. Not until Wayne took him in and tried his best to make the holidays special in his own way.

No matter how hard Wayne tried, though, the bitter aftertaste of abandonment and loneliness was impossible to get rid of.

Eddie would never admit this to Wayne, but celebrating Christmas just the two of them felt just as pathetic and lonely as it had done when he lived with his parents still.

Different.

Definitely not as traumatizing, which was good.

But still dreary, and sad, with a lot of playing pretend that he was okay and happy and fine.

He was never okay and happy and fine.

Still isn’t okay and happy and fine.

That’s not Wayne’s fault, Eddie knows, and he feels like a shitty person because Wayne always tried his best. Did what he could. It just never quite worked.

Christmas would roll around, and Eddie would get depressed.

That’s just what happened.

Eddie would slip into sadness, scary thoughts intruding happy places they weren’t allowed to settle into, but he’d not yet learnt how to tell them to fuck off. To leave him alone. Didn’t know how to get the uninvited guests out of his house, and felt powerless as he watched them settle into his living room. Nothing he could do about it.

Somber, pensive moments would slowly stretch until they covered most of the day. Mornings were the happiest, still. He’d wake up after falling asleep eventually, never managing to slip into dreams before 3 AM, and for a moment, he’d forget. The short amount of sleep would have him tired enough to not remember the reality of his life for a second, and in those moments, it would just be you in bed with him and that would be the only thing in existence.

It’s awful to feel reality set into someone’s body mid-hug.

You wish you knew how to keep it out.

Over the years Eddie had learnt he had to vocalize his feelings. His thoughts. Knew that a burden shared was a burden halved, but knowing things in theory didn’t make them easier in practice.

“What can I do? Let me help.” You’d whisper, and Eddie was lucky you’d known each other for so long. There were no worried questions of are you okay, or a concerned soft hey what’s wrong.

You know he’s not okay, and you know what’s wrong.

“You, here. That’s all you need to do.” Eddie would murmur and he’d pull you in to hold you for a short while. And sometimes, that would temporarily fix him.

There is part of Eddie that honestly thinks if he doesn’t think about it, that it’ll be okay.

If he ignores it for long enough, it might go away by itself.

He’s lucky that sometimes, it does.

He pretends that the foundation of shit that he’d been given for his life hasn’t got all the cracks in. The house he has tried to build on top might shake a bit in the wind, but he can convince himself that the strong support beams that have been put in place will make sure the whole thing doesn’t collapse.

But it’s getting closer and closer to Christmas, and he’s sinking deeper and deeper into everything that’s dark, and cold, and uncomfortable, and painful, and scary.

Everything is designed to make people feel happy around this time of year, and he’s in LA where the sun shines all year long and it doesn’t even really get cold at all. Not like it gets cold in Hawkins. The days don’t really get that much shorter, and he can go outside in a T-shirt and be fine. But maybe that’s precisely the problem right now; there’s no quick get inside the house, and no let me warm your hands up for you.

The comfort of a frozen nose that get nuzzled back to life is unattainable in LA.

“Can you go to another meeting? Would that help, do you think?” you silently ask him one evening, hidden under the covers and too tired to stay awake for much longer, even though you know Eddie’s wide awake next to you. He’ll toss and turn for a couple more hours after you’ve drifted off.

“Yea, of course. I should.” Eddie is quick to reply, but you know he doesn’t want to.

Talking about his addiction with strangers when he’s trying his best to pretend it’s not there will just make things worse, he thinks. Logically, he knows it probably won’t, but there’s always that fear.

“Can I join you?”

You feel how Eddie shifts in bed, probably to take a look at you, but your eyes are closed and you’re about to fall asleep. This isn’t the time to fall into a conversation in which he asks you why on earth you would want to hear a lot of people you don’t know talk about a lot of drastic measures you don’t need to know people let themselves be pushed to sometimes.

So instead, you feel a kiss press to your temple, and he whispers, “Sure you can.”

At first, Eddie doesn’t say much in the meeting you join him for. You mostly listen to issues other people bring forward, and try to think of things you’d do if Eddie was the person speaking. If he was the one with all of those problems. How would you help?

How would you fix it?

When a kind, soft-spoken voice asks if there’s anyone new who wants to share, a lot of eyes fall on you, and you shift in your seat. Sit up a little. Feel Eddie squeeze your hand in his which could have meant, it’s okay, you can tell people why you’re here, but instead it means, I got this.

Eddie talks.

Tells everyone about how he feels like he’s deep in a depression and that he doesn’t really know how to get out of the dark pit he’s fallen into.

How it feels like he’s five years old and stuck in a small dark room, and he’s feeling all over the walls but can’t locate the light switch, and the longer he’s looking, the more he starts feeling claustrophobic in there.

You make the mistake of asking him if he can call out for help.

“Have you tried asking? Maybe someone else can turn the light on for you…”

Eddie breaks down, elbows on his knees, face hidden from the group as he looks at the wooden floor boards through his tears.

It’s not your fault.

Eddie doesn’t expect you to understand the feeling of being so utterly helpless and alone that he knows there’s no use in even trying to call for help.

No one would’ve answered.

You scoot your seat closer to his, and lean into his side as you wrap an arm around his back, fingers curling around his shoulder. It’s nice. He needs it. He also knows there’s thirteen pairs of eyes on him and he doesn’t know how to tell you that no matter how hard you’ll try, you won’t be able to actually fix anything.

“Let me turn the light on. Let Steve, or let Wayne– Robin… we can all help turn the light on. We’ll fly Wayne out, Robin too, and anyone else that you want. They can all move in, we have the space for it. Just… please, let us turn the light on, Eddie…”

It’s the fucking sweetest thing he’s ever heard, but he can reach for the light himself now. He can find it in the dark, and he can turn it on. The problem is that it doesn’t make a fucking difference.

Turning a light on now doesn’t change anything about his past.

Eddie gets asked if he has anything more to share. He sniffs and wipes his face with both his hands before he sits up and leans back and says, “Thank you, but um, no. I don’t. It’s this time of year, I guess. I know it’ll pass.”

You hold hands, fingers intertwined, as you listen to everyone else share more of their own personal issues, and when you leave Eddie puts his arm around you and pulls you close to kiss the side of your face. He tells you that he loves you, that he’s glad that he came, and he thanks you for coming with him.

You can see in his eyes that none of it helped.

Eddie lets himself sink deeper and all you can really do is be there for him. Be there when he wakes up and be there when he goes to sleep. You give him the gift of routine. Of healthy meals. Of pleasant walks outside. Long showers after.

It helps.

But it doesn’t fix anything.

You try your best at damage control. Talk to Steve. Call Wayne a lot.

And it helps.

But about two weeks later, Eddie starts isolating.

He had never isolated before.

Not like this.

He’s in his home studio, hyperfocussing on four seconds of a song he’s working on, and when you interrupt to tell him you’re going to go to bed, he says he’ll come up in a minute. He just needs to figure this bit out. “I’m so close, I can taste it.” Eddie smiles a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and for a moment you think Eddie’s going to let you listen to his work in progress. He always asks for your opinion, but this time he doesn’t. He just looks at you with a smile that’s just there for reassurance until you leave him alone.

At 5 AM you get woken up by Steve, who softly says, “You need to come downstairs…” and leads the way for you.

“I got up to pee, and the bathroom is right above the studio…”

You find Eddie in the exact same spot, going over the exact same four seconds of music.

He looks like he’s being tortured, barely able to keep his eyes open. When you gently pry the guitar from his hands, his breathing changes, and you think if he would have had the energy to sob, he would have cried like a child.

“Let’s go to bed, Eddie.”

Eddie lets you take him upstairs, but then locks himself in the bathroom and when you ask if he can let you in, all you can hear are soft sniffles whilst the shower runs.

It’s then that you decide.

Something is different this time around.

Something deeper has bubbled up, and you know whatever you are doing here, in LA, to help him simply will not be enough.

You establish a plan and pull out two suitcases that you place onto your bed. You’re going to pack your bags and you’re going to go get him.

It’s clearly necessary.

Eddie is no longer letting you comfort him and you’re scared that the next step is going to be a relapse.

“What are you doing?”

“Let’s go get him.”

“I–… what?”

Eddie hasn’t slept, and his unwashed hair is wet from the shower he’s sat in for a while, and you’re very calmly and methodically folding clothes into a suitcase. You might as well be speaking in a different language right now.

“Yea. Come on. Let’s go. We’re packing our bags and we’re going to go pick him up and bring him back here.”

Eddie slowly moves to sit down on the bed, and he looks at what you’re doing for a moment before he sighs and softly says, “Steve’s already here… and Wayne is coming here for Christmas, we don’t need to–…”

He stops speaking when he sees your slight smile.

“I know we don’t need to.” You say and Eddie doesn’t like how you look at him with so much care in your eyes. He doesn’t think he deserves it.

Doesn’t deserve you.

“Do you want to bring both of your black hoodies?” you then ask, not giving him a chance to question what’s happening, and so he just goes, “Yea… yea, sure.” before he lets himself fall backwards onto the mattress where he shuts his eyes.

You let Eddie sleep for as long as sleep will hold him. Pack up both suitcases and let Steve help you book travel back home.

“Do you want to come?” you ask when Steve is on the phone to a travel agent. He is listening to the woman who’s reading him back information he’s just given her, so he can’t answer you, but he reaches out and holds your hand whilst you listen to him book two tickets to Indiana.

When he gets off the phone he reaches for your other hand as well and says, “I’ll watch the house.”

You give him a slight frown. “You know he’d love you to come with us… Wayne says Hawkins is covered in snow. We could watch Christmas films in the trailer… get Robin and run across Lover’s Lake again… or, call Dustin and, I don’t know, Eddie could challenge him to a snow ball fight and they could play–”

“Dustin’s 26 years old.”

“Yea...” you frown at Steve. “So?” you sound desperate.

Steve huffs a laugh as he rubs his thumbs over your hands. He grimaces a little before he says, “No offense, but… he doesn’t need us out there. Of course you’ve got to go with him, but every other person is going to be one too many.”

And Steve’s right.

The next day, Steve joins you outside as you’re about to leave. He hugs Eddie for a long time by the trunk of the car, and you know they’re softly talking to each other. You can only see Eddie’s back, and Steve’s face is hidden by all of Eddie’s curls, but suddenly you can hear Eddie laugh before he pokes Steve in the side.

You get hugged next.

Eddie doesn’t sleep on the flight. Just stares out the window and gets lost in thought. You know he’s not entirely sure of why you’re taking him back to Hawkins, but he’s also not asked about it again.

When your rental car stops in front of Wayne’s trailer, you turn the engine off and sit in silence for a moment as you both just… look at it. It’s four in the afternoon, but it’s getting dark outside already.

Forest Hills.

A surprisingly large lot of land that holds about twenty-four sporadically placed trailers; some of them neatly lined up, others facing whichever way. Wayne’s trailer was one of those ones, placed diagonally to the road, surrounded by dry grass for most of the year which was now hidden by a thick layer of snow.

Momentarily, everything about the image that you’re looking at looks like it’s 1987. Maybe 1988. You can easily envision a younger version of yourself running up to that same front door, it swinging open before you could even get up the steps, Eddie bursting through just to throw you over his shoulder and haul you inside.

“We’re here...” you break the silence, stating the obvious, and find Eddie’s hand to squeeze.

It’s a little silly, but it looks like he’s scared.

“Did you tell him we were coming?”

“Wayne?��

Eddie turns to look at you, slightly confused because, yea who the fuck else?

“Yea. I called Wayne.”

You watch how Eddie takes a breath. Watch that information settle within him.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

And Eddie does. Doesn’t want to do anything without you, ever.

But he takes a shaky breath and says, “I’ll come get you in a second.” before he opens the door and gets out of the car.

Footsteps crunch in the snow, and you watch Eddie, hands in pockets, rush up the steps to what used to be the trailer that he lived in with his uncle. The trailer that he found home in when he was about seven years old and Wayne had decided that his bedroom could actually be Eddie’s bedroom instead for a while.

A while turned into fifteen years in the blink of an eye.

You watch Eddie hug Wayne through the window. It’s another long embrace, but this one doesn’t part with boyish grins and jabbing fingers. Instead, you can see how Eddie goes limp in Wayne’s arms a little, and when he goes to pull back, Wayne just… holds on.

Just a little longer.

It feels a little wrong to be watching them like this, chin perched on the steering wheel, fingers hidden in your sleeves. It feels especially invasive when you see how when they eventually part, the first thing both men do is bring their sleeves to their faces to dry what has become wet.

Then, Eddie steps away. Slowly walks towards the room that used to be his bedroom, and he goes alone.

Good, you think.

That’s good.

Wayne didn’t understand at first, when you told him over the phone. That you were coming over for a strange, but important visit. But this was good.

It takes a while.

Your fingers start to lose their feeling a little as you wait in the car, but it’s fine. You are not the priority right now.

When Eddie eventually emerges from the trailer, you get out of the car, and wait for him to call for you. A, come on. Come inside. It’s fucking freezing out here.

Instead, you get silence. Eddie doesn’t stop walking to wave you over.

He makes his way all the way over to where you’re stood next to the car, and then, he hesitates for a moment.

Eddie can’t look you in the eye.

“Everything okay?”

You know it’s not.

“He um…” Eddie starts, voice trembling. “He’s not here.”

“What?”

Eddie moves closer to place a kiss to your temple, eyes looking away, over the top of the car, across the trailer park. “He’s not here. I didn’t find him.”

Eddie steps around you and gets into the passenger seat, and for a moment, you stand with both shoes in slush whilst you try to think of what to do next. When you look back at the trailer, you catch Wayne through he window. Gives you a smile and a wave.

For a moment you contemplate running over, up those same steps, to ask what happened inside. Maybe Wayne has answers to questions you keep asking yourself.

Before you can, Eddie roars the engine back to life.

You give Wayne a wave back from where you’re stood and round the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You can talk to Wayne later.

Back inside the car, you put your seatbelt on and look at Eddie for a moment. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gearshift, and he’s biting his lip as he stares into space.

“If he’s not here…” you start pensively.

“It’s quite the drive.” Eddie answers, unmoving.

“We have the time.”

“I don’t think we’d make it back here before midnight.”

“Hey,”

Eddie turns his head to look at you.

“We have time.” You repeat yourself and place your hand on the back of his head where you softly scratch your fingers into his hair. “You good to drive?”

You don’t get an answer. Instead, Eddie puts the car in reverse and starts backing out. Just before he’s about to fully leave Forest Hills Trailer Park, he stops the car, even though there’s no traffic to wait for.

“I can drive if you want me to–”

“N-no, that’s not it. I can drive, but I…”

Eddie stares. Looks at his hands and just sits in silence, going through it. Then suddenly, he takes his seatbelt off, opens his door and quickly says, “I’ll be right back.” and he runs.

Left in a car with a running engine and a wide open door, you turn in your seat to watch Eddie’s breath leave him in white clouds as he runs back to the trailer, back up the steps, back inside. You’re too far away to see in the windows now.

It only takes a minute.

When he comes back, jogs down those steps in the snow, he looks a little lighter somehow. Like running back towards the car is a little easier.

Eddie gets back in the car, and he’s all loud inhales and rough exhales, hands rubbing together because it’s cold and he just ran through the snow, but then he looks at you as he puts on his seatbelt and he smiles.

There’s tears in his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“Had to tell him it’s okay. That I’m okay.”

Somehow, Eddie is beaming and solemn at the same time, but you’re happy that something has changed a little. That he seems to get it. You sink into your seat a bit more when Eddie pulls onto the road and starts heading south.

Eddie told you once, years ago, that he used to live in a motel before he came to Hawkins. How that’s all his parents could afford, and even then, they were always fighting with the front desk about money. Always late on payments.

It was just one big room, and even though it was just him, his mother and sometimes his dad, there were always people in their room. Strangers. Friends, his mother would tell him. Sometimes she’d even tell him, this is your Uncle Frank, and Eddie would be forced to shake the hand of a man he had never seen before and would never see again.

Eddie spent a lot of his early childhood confused.

He spent a lot of his childhood hiding.

Afraid.

Alone.

He wouldn’t ever trust anyone. People told him one thing and then they would laugh together and they would do something else.

Adults were evil, and yet the world was made so that adults were the ones that had to look after him. That made the decisions. That told him, go play outside, even if rain was coming down hard, and Eddie would have no other choice but to listen. To do as he was told.

He was only a little kid.

When Eddie was seven years old, he got kicked out of the room at eight in the morning and got told to not come back until they were ‘ready for him’.

Like he knew what that meant.

No one had told him how to tell time.

Eddie didn’t go to school.

But he knew that being sent outside meant that he had to go find his own entertainment for a while, and so he did.

Eddie was seven years old when he came back around lunch time with skinned knees and grass stains in his shorts, and there was commotion.

Lots of people.

People in uniforms.

A cop car.

A kind woman who asked him if he had lost his way. If she could help him get home. Eddie had just smiled and said, no thanks, and had tried to hide in the spot where he always hid. Adults were not to be trusted, Eddie knew. No matter how kind they looked.

Eddie was seven years old when he got pulled from his safe space, his little hiding spot, kicking and screaming, and got brought over to Wayne’s trailer. He’d never been back to that motel room again. Had never even gotten close.

The sun has fully set by the time you pull up outside of an old, run down motel that looks like it should’ve been torn down ages ago. Most windows are boarded up, paint on the walls is chipping and what used to be a light-up sign has been torn down.

It’s a dump.

Just trying to imagine someone growing up here has you choking up.

Little four-year-old Eddie running around these grounds? In dirty clothes too big for his body because nobody was feeding him right? Being exposed to things no child should ever be exposed to, simply because his bedroom was also the only room they had?

Before you can let it make you cry, you hear a faint chuckle beside you.

It’s small and weak, but it’s a chuckle none the less.

“I remember this place much bigger,” he says, like it’s funny. “There’s only like… seven rooms.” Eddie counts.

You’re momentarily unsure if coming here was a good idea. If facing this reality of his past is going to be doing him any good. If it won’t just break him down even more. But then Eddie turns to look at you and says, “Come, let me show you.”

Eddie visiting the place where he spent the first few years of his life turns into him giving you a surprisingly pleasant tour of the grounds. He recounts the other people that lived there, the rooms he wasn’t allowed into. How there used to be a soda machine here, and how sometimes the older kids would ask him to get them some cans for free, because his arms were small and skinny enough to just sneak them out the bottom.

It’s easy to skim the surface of this place like this.

To make it about showing you around instead of sinking down past the layers of self-protection that would have him walking around here with wobbly legs.

Yea.

This is easier. Better.

All of the doors are locked, but it doesn’t take much more than a good shove of a shoulder for the locks to give way. For the wood of the doorframes to splinter.

“Entering the Forest Hills way.” Eddie grins, and you suppress a smile. It’s a lie. Forest Hills is full of all honest, all hard-working people. But, it’s still a trailer park, and thus, the joke is funny.

Without much care, Eddie easily manages to open every door he comes across. It’s dark everywhere you go, none of the lights work, but the streetlights out front provide you with plenty of it, and your eyes quickly adjust.

Eddie shows you the laundry. Breaks into a little back office. A supply closet. Some other motel rooms - some that had semi-permanent guests staying there too, just like he used to be one. And some that would have overnight guests that didn’t know about the draft that would make the door slam so hard, you’d lose your fingers if they got caught in between.

It’s almost joyful, how Eddie talks about his memories. He hasn’t got many, he was so young, but every time he comes across something he remembers, he seems pleasantly surprised at his brain’s ability to bring it all back to him.

But then, when you eventually stop outside room number five, he pauses.

Stops.

Stares at the doorknob.

You can feel how his entire demeanor changes, and even though it’s painful to witness, you know that this is why you came here. This is the whole reason you drove all the way out here.

Eddie takes a good, deep breath but doesn’t move otherwise. Just keeps his eyes locked on a rusty old doorknob to a locked door of a room that probably looks exactly like all the other ones Eddie had already shown you.

“Is this where you lived?” you ask, doing your best to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. You don’t want to scare him off. Don’t want to trigger something.

Eddie nods, a barely-there up and down movement of his head, and then he goes for the doorhandle, rattles it weakly.

Keeps staring at it.

“Door’s locked.” He croaks, like that had been a problem for any of the other doors.

But it does make sense.

You understand that the person who opened up all those other doors was Eddie in his thirties, showing you around.

The person staring at the doorknob now, was Eddie as a child.

Afraid to go inside, unsure of what he was going to find there.

Not strong enough.

Maybe only just tall enough to even reach.

But, you were strong.

You had witnessed how a little force had gone a long way with these locks, and after giving Eddie a second to maybe ask for help, because God, you really wanted him to realize he could just ask for help, he doesn’t ask for shit, and you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Before Eddie even registers you taking a few steps back to get a running start, the wood of the door has already split from the blow of your shoulder.

“Oh my G–” Eddie jumps, both arms reaching out to grab at you and to pull you close. He makes sure he holds you where you ran into the door, large palm cupping over the curve of your shoulder, and he rubs the skin there. Which helps, because, you’re not really hiding the fact that Jesus fuck that fucking hurt very well.  

Despite the sting, there’s a moment where you both see the humor in what just happened, and looking at each other, you both let huffs of laughter escape you.

“Are you crazy? What you do that for, huh?” Eddie pretend scolds.

You shrug, “Forest Hills way.”  

The comedic relief is so welcome, but it’s short-lived. You see from up close how Eddie’s expression drops. He goes from looking at his insane girlfriend with all the love he’s got for her spilling from his eyes, to looking over your head into the dark room where he used to live, and it all slips away.

You wait by the door.

Want Eddie to do this alone because you think it’ll be better that way.

You also truly don’t know what to do, so it feels a little safer to just… wait outside. You wouldn’t know how to help anyway.

Just like when you were outside of Wayne’s trailer, it feels a little invasive to look at Eddie as he silently takes slow steps inside and looks around. At the same time, you can’t really look away. If he’s going to break down and fall to his knees, you want to be there within a second to pick him back up.

Eddie trails slow fingers along a dresser.

Takes careful steps towards a nightstand of which he opens and then closes the drawer.

“Huh…” he comments. Looks around the full room again, sees it in different light as he stands in another corner, the lights from outside showing him different parts of the room.

He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he steps back out, and he looks… confused.

Surprised, maybe. A little dumbfounded.

He gives the room another glance, and then turns to find you watching him in silence.

“This is really weird,” Eddie comments, both eyebrows raised.

“Yea? How so?”

“I don’t know… it’s different. It’s not like I remember. I think… I don’t know, I think my mind made this room the most terrible place ever in the world, but it’s just… it’s just a room. There’s nothing…” Eddie twirls on the spot, “Yea, it’s just a room. Nothing’s… nothing is scary.”

You swallow audibly, and hesitate before you speak.

“It’s not scary.” Eddie concludes again before you can say anything, and he raises both shoulders at you in a long shrug, like he’s trying to convince you that it’s all right.

You’re not the one who needs convincing though.

“Is, um…” you start, and you clear your throat, entirely unsure of how Eddie is going to react to your question.

After visiting Wayne, you think he gets it now.

He gets why you took him back to Indiana.

Eddie has let his eyes fall on a weird piece of wall art he doesn’t remember, something that maybe they added to the room after his parents had been kicked out, and he’d been taken away to go live somewhere safer.

“Is he here?”

“Huh?”

“Is he in here, somewhere?”

It takes a moment of Eddie looking at you before he fully registers what you’re talking about.

His gaze drifts towards the closet next to the bathroom door.

It’s shut. Both bifold doors closed.

Eddie stalls for a moment, and then he raises an arm to open one of the doors before he drops it by his side again.

The closet’s empty.

It seemingly comes from nowhere, the way your lips suddenly quiver. How your eyes well up with tears so quickly. You have to cover your mouth with your hand to remain silent; this isn’t about you.

Eddie is slowly taking it all in, looks around the inside of the closet. The stains in the carpet. The peeling wallpaper. The mismatched hangers, a couple plastic ones amongst a couple more wire ones. And then he looks up and finds the the little yellowed piece of string that hangs down from way up high.

He reaches up and pulls it.

An audible click is heard.

Nothing changes though.

No light springs on.

Eddie pulls it again. Softly smiles. Pulls it a couple more times.

Click, click.

Click, click.

Nothing happens.

You’re about to burst with a violent sob when you see how Eddie, entirely in his own thoughts, inside of his own memories, slowly steps into the closet and closes the door behind him.

You hear the clicking of the light a couple more times, and need to step away.  

It’s too much.

The visuals of a tiny little malnourished Eddie hiding in a closet unable to reach the string of the light in there is going to make you hyperventilate if you’re not careful, so you have to take a walk.

It’s fucking freezing but hot tears trail down your cheeks as you hurry back to your rental car.

It doesn’t take much longer for Eddie to step outside, leaving the place where he spent the first few years of his life. His long legs carry him over to you quickly.

You can tell that he’s holding back sobs until he’s close enough to crash himself into you.

Arms wrap so tightly, they almost hurt. Bodies wrack with silent sobs until deep breaths calm the both of you down.

It takes a good while.

Eddie is first to pull back, and whilst cupping your face, both his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes in a bid to rid you of your tears, he manages to squeak, “Found him.”

“Yea?” you ask wetly. Hopeful.

This is why you came out here.

To find the small version of Eddie who, even as a toddler, knew that calling out for help was a waste of time because the calls would go unanswered.

To take him home.

“Turned on the–” Eddie throat closes up before he can even say it.

“Turned on the light for him?” you finish for him, and he just nods as he presses his lips together to keep them from wobbling.

Eddie goes in for another hug, hides his face in the side of your neck and grounds himself there.

You can feel how he’s actively trying to steady his own breathing.

It works, eventually.

“Did you…” you start, still holding him, but falter for a moment.

“Did I what?” Eddie asks, sniffing loudly, pulling back after you nudge your nose into his hair.

“Did you take him with you?”

It’s such a silly question. Eddie can’t help the smile that carefully plays at the corner of his mouth, and his eyebrows scrunch up as he looks down at you. He can dissect the question that pops up in the back of his brain for the fourth time today another time. How can he even begin to figure out why he deserves someone like you in his life?

“I did.” He confirms, and you let the breath you were holding escape you in a shudder.

He doesn’t think he deserves you.

“Good.” you smile, and maybe things are starting to look up, a little. Maybe the universe is slowly starting to make amends with Eddie. Is starting to apologize for all the shit it put little Eddie through in this godforsaken place no one should spend more than a single night at.

“Let’s take him home then.”

Eddie cries.

Thought he was done, but he’s not.

He lets you press kisses to the skin just underneath his eyes as he closes them.

He lets you open the car door and help him into the passenger’s seat.

Lets you drive all the way back to Wayne’s whilst he cries, because this is the second time little Eddie makes this trip, from the motel to Forest Hills. But this time he’s not scared.

He knows he’s going to go to a better place.

A safer place.

To a person who will try his very best hand at proper damage control. Who’s got a nice trailer, and a room that will get turned into his own bedroom three days into his stay.

To a person who will join Eddie in the closet for those first few nights. Who will just bring him food in there, have their dinner hidden away together, and who won’t force him out.

Who will play silly games with him in there, until the trips to the bathroom feel safe enough to do on his own.

There’s never other people in the trailer.

Just them.

Safe.

Eddie cries as he remembers more. Thought he had forgotten almost everything, but he remembers so much. He can’t talk about anything yet. Not now. His voice won’t let him. But that’s okay. You’ve got the radio on and need to focus on the road, and you’re taking him back to Wayne, and all he really wants to do is sleep.

And you just drive, and hold Eddie’s hand as he clings to you, and this is good.

It’s good.

Little Eddie deserves the fucking world.

You think so.

And you know of a handful of people who would wholeheartedly agree.

Slowly, you think Eddie might start to understand where you’re coming from.

He was never okay and happy and fine.

Still isn’t okay and happy and fine.

But the light has been switched on.

There’s light now.

He might one day be okay and happy and fine, and that’s something that before today was the most difficult thing to grasp.

“We’re taking you home, kiddo. I got you.” Eddie whispers, soft enough so only he can hear it over the engine and the music coming from the radio.

“Let’s go home.”

---

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Add yourself

[vixensbrainrotts]

Committed to you - Manjiro >Mikey< Sano

(part two)

Idea/ prompt: Mikey from the last timeline who wants to propose to us but has no idea how to ask so he ask advices from draken and emma

Vixen's two cents: Hi. I know ive been gone for like 2 weeks, I dont know why but it's been hard writing lately. anyway, thanks a million to @anahryal for giving me this idea whilst I was in the pits of my writers block!!! thanks girl, I can't tell you how much this helped. anyway, REQUESTS ARE OPEN and I advise you to use them! now please enjoy my revival piece!

Mikey has thought every possible thought he could have. He had run through every possible situation, every possible outcome, every possible setting, but damnit why was this so hard? He couldn’t do it. Not for the life of him.

He had browsed millions of travel blogs, pondering about every possible spot on earth to take you for the occasion. He had woken in and out of more jewelry stores in the past month than he had ever in his entire life. He had specifically stood in corner stores, reading the wedding catalogues in the magazine section trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do.

None of it helped.

Manjiro wanted it so bad. So so very bad. Every white dress he walked by, he envisioned you in it. Every bakery shop he passed, his eyes flitted up and down the fancy display cakes, pondering whether or not it would be good enough. Any time he woke up next to you, every time he joined you in the shower, every time he watched you cook, the urge to sink to one knee overtook him.

He knew he couldn’t make it that simple though. It was too domestic for him, so little of a gesture. He wanted you to know that he loved you, that he would bring you the moon if you wanted it. He needed you to see just how much he appreciates you for sticking with him through everything, and for that he needs a grand gesture.

However it seemed that nothing he could think of was quite big enough, quite meaningful enough, quite heartfelt enough. He was at the end of his wits. For one and a half months- seven weeks he had been fighting this battle alone.

He had made some progress in that time, having picked the ring because when he picked it up he just felt that this was the one. It was a niche store, and he was initially appalled by the average price of the rings, but decided, ah what the fuck? and entered the store for mostly shits and giggles. He was greeted by an expensive looking elderly gentleman who donned a monocle and silk gloves, clearly the clerk, and clearly an expert. He had the longest, most engaging talk with the man, explaining his situation and his frustrations, to which the man nodded understandingly and told of his own story and experience with marigge.

Seven long weeks he had kept it a secret from everyone, and now he couldn’t take it anymore.

He was just about to throw the towel on this whole thing and say fuck it and give up on this whole marriage thing and just accept that he would never make it, when he remembered that he didnt have to be alone in this. Not at all matter of fact. His best friend married his sister after all. If Ken could do it with the pressure of Shinichiro, Izana AND Mikey breathing down his neck, then surely he could do it too, right?

You were out on a girls night with Hinata, Senju and Yuzuha. Emma would have tagged along normally too, but with the addition of a new-born baby, she decided that it would be best to sit out this time. Either way you were out of the house for the night, and Mikey was left to his own devices. You had left him with a kiss and a home-cooked meal (which he felt bad about leaving behind so he completely stuffed himself before coming here) before he gave Ken a quick heads up over the phone that he was coming over with a VERY important problem.

Thats how he found himself here. Standing in the Kitchen of Emma and Ken‘s flat, hands perched on the counter, looking down at the surface, face in a deep frown. „What’s goin on? What’s the problem?“ Ken asks roughly, leaned on the refrigerator as he eyed his friend. Mikey didnt really respond though.

„What problem?“ Emma‘s voice was hushed as she entered through the kitchen door, pulling the door shut behind her, probably for the sake of the baby. „I dont know.“ Ken responded, rubbing his eyebrows „Ask your brother.“ he sighed as he gestured to Mikey who was still staring down the counter.

“Mikey?!” Emma sounded confused and a little concerned as she turned to look at him, eyes flitting between her brother and her husband. “Did you know he was coming over?”

Ken nodded wordlessly. “Said he needs our help about something.” Emma’s head tilted in question but accepted the fact. “What’s up Mikey?” She asked, approaching him and joining Draken at the other side of the counter.

Mikey didn’t say anything though, instead reaching into his pocket and producing a small, black, silk-encased box. He dropped it onto the table and looked up at the couple in desperation. “How do I do it?”

Ken gasped and felt his lips tug into a smile, happy that finally, finally Mikey was wiping you up (he had told him to do so since they were teens).

Emma slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle a silent scream, beginning to voice up and down on excitement as she realized- her brother was marrying you! She thanked the gods that Mikey fell in love with you because there was no better in-law than her Soulsister.

“Ahhhhh! Oh my goodness Mikey! I’m so happy for you! Can I see? Wow! Oh my god Ken are you seeing this!? He’s proposing! Ah I’m so glad!” Mikey nodded in response and let Emma pick up the box and crack it open, revealing the beautiful white-gold wedding band, encrusted with more diamonds than she could count. Notably, one large diamond sat in the middle of the ring, flanked by two smaller diamonds on each side.

“Oh.” Emma breathed. “Ken why didn’t you ask Manjiro for help when picking my ring?” Emma sounded slightly offended as she spoke, glaring down at the ring.

“Nah nah, don’t get it twisted girl. You told me what ring you wanted, I didn’t have much picking liberty other than the price.” Ken waved his hands in dismissal, brushing off her accusations with a grin still wide on his face. He made his way over to Mikey and clapped a hand on his shoulder, congratulating him for the occasion.

“Good on you man! Finally givin it the push, hah?” Ken was smiling as he searched for Mikey’s eyes, but he didn’t look up. “What’s up with the long face? You’re about to propose dude, you should be over the moon!”

Mikey sighed and shook his head. “I’ve been trying to propose to her for months. Months Ken. I can’t do it. It’s never right.”

The couple halted their celebrations and turned to look at Mikey again, Emma putting down the dainty box as her looks turns to one of concern. “What do you mean?” She fingered at the box as she leaned across the counter.

“It’s… i don’t know. Ken made it look so easy when he proposed to you, and Pah-chin was even more mindless about it! I really want to. I really do, but every time I get close, I chicken out because I get scared or because something isn’t right, and I’m starting to think that it’s better if I just… don’t.” Mikey sighed and cradled his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the counter.

Emma and Ken shared a look, a wordless exchange of worry and empathy. "What kind of proposal were you thinking of? Big? Small? Public? Private?" Emma started, hand rubbing soothingly across her brother's back.

"Big." Mikey mumbled into his hands, remaining hunched over the counter. "Big and public. I wanna make sure that everyone knows, everyone sees, I want them all to know. want them to know how much I love her."

Emma's eyes softened and she suppressed a smile, because all in all, it was cute. She had always known her brother to be big and strong, undefeatable, and most of all unwaverable. Mikey always put up the strong front when really, he was hurt. Vulnerability wasn't something that she was used to seeing from him, which made this moment all the more special.

"Do you want to go somewhere with her?" Ken steps in and asks, an idea arising. Mikey only grunts, a noise of agreement sounding through the room. "Do you know what kind of places she likes?" Ken continues.

Mikey's head slowly raises from the position on the table and he stares forward at the refrigerator. "Europe."

Emma and Ken looked at one another again, sensing that they were getting somewhere. "Then take her on Vacation. You both have that long shared break coming up, don't you? Travel through Europe and when it feels right, ask!" Ken said.

"How do I know when it feels right, though? What if it's not the moment?" Mikey asks, still not entirely convinced. "You'll know. I promise you, you'll know. I knew too and I didn't think I had the stuff to ever get married." Ken reassures again, and this time the two share eye contact, and it takes Draken a lot not to tear up.

Draken took a moment in his mind to look at Mikey. He had stuck by his side since they were kids, through thick and thin it's always been the two if them against the world. And now as he looked at Manjiro he no longer saw the unmatchable delinquent he saw ten years ago, but rather a distinguished person with complex thoughts and emotions. He saw a man that felt, a man that cared and a man that loved in front of him, and he couldn't be prouder.

Ken nodded at Mikey, and Mikey nodded back at him. "Yeah. She'll love it! Thanks, I'll do that! Gosh I don't know what id do without you two.."

"Oh, please propose to her in front of the Eifel Tower! Or the Coliseum! Or on some romantic Bridge in Venice!" Emma swooned and held her hands over her chest, hearts in her eyes.

Mikey smiled at her and nodded again. "I'll try and film it if I can."

-

The rest of the evening was spent with the three of them checking about a thousand booking sites, mapping travel routes and destinations, and the occasional cacophony of laughter which led to a grumpy Ryuguji-baby. Manjiro couldn't wait to go with you, he thought as he sat on one of the armchairs, gently running a thumb over the silk box that sat pretty in his hand.

[neteyamssock]

Not so bad, after all.

╰┈➤ PART III.

pairing: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: When neteyam and you met each other for the first time, they were overwhelmed with feelings they have never felt before.

wordcount for this chapter: 3.5k

tags: love at first sight, misunderstanding, arranged marriage/mateship, unrequited love, betrayal, angst, happy ending, etc.

word bank: ma'itan = son, oel ngati kameie = i see you, marui = pods built in mangrove trees

a/n; unedited. posted it here straight from gdocs. i'll try revising everything once i finished the fic mweheehe.

TEXT DIVIDERS CREDITS TO @/cafekitsune

masterlist

part II | part IV

PART III.

Like Tsireya said, Ao’nung did come the next morning. In his tow is his ever loyal companion, Roxto. Ao’nung gave you a look and pulled you back as you watch Tsireya lead the Sullys into the water. As you turn to look at Ao’nung, you didn’t catch the worried glance Neteyam sent your way as Tuk pulled him away. 

“I heard from one of the boys that you joined Tsireya? Are the freaks that hard to teach that she asked you for help?” He asked, voice low as he stared at you. 

You found yourself staring defiantly at him, something you usually would refrain to do in respect for the Olo-eyktan’s son, but you are not as patient was you were before. “Quit it, Ao’nung. Have some respect. If you didn’t ditch Tsireya and actually did what the Olo-eyktan told you to do, then we wouldn’t be here in this situation. I’m doing what you are supposed to do, skxawng.” You took your arm out of his grasp with an annoyed hiss, giving him a glare as you looked back at Neteyam’s group.

Ao’nung looked at you for a few seconds, grumbling to himself as Roxto interjected.

“They are even worse than babies! They should just go back to the forest, tree hugging freaks…”

Your blood boiled with rage. You believe deep in your heart that Roxto is not a bad person, but he kept challenging these beliefs with his terrible words, and it angers you that Ao’nung allows this to happen. With a frown, you kicked Roxto in his knees, making him almost kneeling. “Stop calling them freaks, Roxto! Don’t make me report your behavior to the Tsahik!”

Roxto wanted to retort as he grimaced and grunted with pain. He was stopped by Ao’nung’s hand. If there’s one thing that can deter these arrogant boys, it’s the Tsahik. With a prick of a sharp object, she can make them paralyzed for days. 

Glancing at you for a few seconds, Ao’nung finally spoke. “Fine. Let’s see what these babies can do.” 

He didn't even wait for you as he marched towards Tsireya and the Sully children. Roxto gave you a complicated glance before following after Ao’nung like he had replaced the latter’s tail.

Knowing his arrogant nature, you suddenly began doubting whether it was good to bring Ao’nung into this. You should've let him slack off like he wanted, instead of indirecting pulling him in and letting him cause trouble for the newbies. 

It's probably fine, right? Tsireya's there to keep them in check.

“Ao’nung, it's nice to finally be in your presence, brother.” Neteyam greeted Ao’nung, then glanced at you in the back, your gazes intertwined for a few seconds. 

“Hey,” he greeted you which you reciprocated with a soft hi. 

Ao’nung sneered, not bothering to greet back Neteyam as he walked into the water. “You even managed to get her to help you out. It seems that you guys are truly hopeless little babies.”

Tsireya glared at Ao’nung, “Stop being mean and start actually doing something, tsmukan.”

You ignored the two and smiled at the remaining Sully children. Tuk smiled back as she embraced Kiri in the water. Kiri gave you a small reserved smile, but it was still progress. The first time you met her, she barely acknowledged you. Lo’ak was still the same, nodding at you with a smile before giving his brother strange looks. 

Walking towards Neteyam, you tamed your wild heartbeat and gently asked. “I’m going to teach you the the final basics of breath-holding. This will be the most crucial part of learning how to stay alive for a long time underwater.”

Neteyam nodded, leaning closer to you as Kiri and Tuk swam towards where Tsireya was located. It was when you finally realized that you had made a mistake. That you approached Neteyam instead of Tuk, separating yourself and Neteyam from the group. You spotted Ao’nung giving you a look that commands you to follow him, but you ignored it.

You looked at Neteyam who looked back at you with calm eyes. If not for his tail flicking and ears perked up, you wouldn't have picked on the fact that he’s actually very eager to learn. 

It made you feel less nervous. He enjoys this, and it makes you feel happy. 

“F-Follow me then.” 

Neteyam gave you a smile, almost teasingly, but there’s still a hint of hesitation as if he was afraid you’d be offended. “Yes, Karyu~”

As you were about to pull his hand, you heard someone yell. “Wait!” Ao’nung approached you two, looking at Neteyam. You can feel the tension picking up as Neteyam gave Ao’nung an unreadable glance. “I’ll come with you. I’ll teach this forest boy,”

“Kehe!” You shouted unconsciously, earning everyone’s attention. You saw Tsireya looking over, seemingly worried. 

Ao’nung’s eyes narrowed at you. “Why? I’m the one that supposed to teach these guys, not you.”

“Oh come on, Ao’nung. You don’t even know what to teach. Just go away, help Tsireya or whatever. I can handle this.”

Ao’nung looked surprised with what you said. In fact he didn’t expect for you to refuse him and his help, making him feel flustered for some reason he cannot name. 

He didn't seem convinced so you communicated with Tsireya with your fingers. Without hesitation, Tsireya walked briskly and pulled Ao’nung. “Leave her alone, tsmukan. You’ll just distract her.”

Ao’nung looked between you and Neteyam before roughly pulling away from Tsireya’s grasp. Watching him walking away, you also felt complicated. You didn’t even know why you’re so against him being present with your lessons with Neteyam. 

Neteyam looked at you before looking at Ao’nung’s back, golden eyes narrowing. “That finger talk, it looks interesting.”

You were awakened from you reverie by his voice. “Yeah, it’s something that reef people must learn, you know, to communicate underwater. If you want I can teach you once we finish the swimming lessons. O-only if you want.”

Neteyam smiled at you, watching your face as it started to look different in shade. “I’d like that.”

On a rock, you sat face to face with Neteyam, trying not to look at his face. Your knees were touching his, you can even feel the temperature that radiated off him, his gentle breaths, the swish of his tail, and the twitching of his ears. 

“C-Can I touch you?”

“What?!”

Neteyam’s reaction surprised you. He looked disbelieving as he looked at you with wide golden eyes. He looked genuinely shocked at your question, making you question whether you actually said something inappropriate. 

Raising your palms, you tried to explain in haste. “I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to help you understand the basics, but it would require me g-guiding your stomach and chest..."

Now it was his turn to get flustered, hastily avoiding your eyes as he stuttered. “O-oh, okay. Go ahead.”

You tried hard not to let your hand shake, you don’t even know why you are so nervous. You have taught alot of children to get better in breath-holding, so teaching wasn’t new to you. But facing someone like Neteyam messes you up. 

With all of your courage, you gently touched the space between his ribs and his stomach. “Take a deep breath here,”

Neteyam inhaled slowly, but he cannot reach form you want to see with his heartbeat being as wild as yours. Your hand shook, and you knew he felt it. You tried to get everything under control but your hand is not listening to you. So you just let it be, and relished at the strong heartbeat under your fingertips. 

What a strong heartbeat. A heartbeat of a warrior. 

You tried to stifle the smile that’s threatening to emerge in your lips. You cannot show, so you tried to act as if nothing’s wrong. “Neteyam, y-your heart’s beating so fast. Mawey…”

Neteyam stiffened under your hand, his temperature rising in embarrassment. “...I’m sorry, let me try again.”

Listening to the heartbeat and the gentle waves of the water, you gently said. “You must be calm but strong, like the coean. Inhale…”

You can feel Neteyam’s gaze travelling on your facial features, his gaze held a searing heat and you can feel your face burning up because of it. “Exhale, Neteyam.”

“The way of water has no beginning and no end, the sea is around you and in you…water connect all things, life to death, darkness to light…”

Your gaze met with Neteyam’s, intertwined, as the sound of your heartbeats drowned your voice out. In this moment, there’s no ocean, no waves, no breeze. There’s only you and Neteyam, with your heartbeats thrumming in sync. 

Neteyam cannot sleep. In the darkness, he silently walked out of his family’s marui to walk along the shore. It was deep into the eclipse, with only the bioluminescent corals under water as his light. No matter how hard he tried to sleep, his mind is always filled with you face, your smile, your voice, your eyes that is full of unsaid words. He cannot stop thinking about you, even when he kept trying to convince himself that there’s nothing so special about you. You’re just a regular reef na’vi, with a rather reserved and quiet personality. 

So Neteyam didn’t really believe Lo’ak when that skxawng told him that he probably liked you that’s why he cannot take you out of his mind. Because if he really likes someone, isn’t Tsireya the most suitable person?

Neteyam isn’t a shallow person, but as the son of the most well-known warrior, he grew up with arrogance natural for his standing and achievements. Someone like Tsireya would be more suitable for him to like, she’s the olo-eyktan’s daughter with good-looks and kind personality. Although he didn’t really like her, he knew that it was only natural if he would fall for her.

Not you. He still doesn’t believe that he had fallen for you. It must have been short-term curiosity for an elusive and mysterious person like you. Heck, he didn’t even know anything about you aside from the fact that you are Tsireya and Ao’nung’s close companion and you study under the awa’atlu’s Tsahik. 

So why?

“What why, ma’itan?”

Neteyam almost jumped into the water when Neytiri’s voice rang behind him. “Mom, what are you doing here?!” 

Neytiri gave him a pointed glance before sitting beside him in the sand. “I should be the one asking that, Neteyam. What are YOU doing here? In this hour?”

Neteyam looked away and avoided his mother’s eyes. He should’ve known that she’s still awake, or at least alert enough to wake up with just simple movements. When it comes to stealth, she’s always the best in the family. 

“Nothing, mom. I-I’m just thinking about the lessons.”

Neytiri hummed, looking at the calm waters and the bright bioluminescent reefs. “Thinking about the lessons, or the person giving the lessons?”

Neteyam almost choked in his own saliva. With embarrassment, he hissed. “Mom! Don’t tell me you also believe Lo’ak and Tuk’s nonsense!”

His mother chuckled as she hugged her oldest son’s shoulder. “Is it really nonsense? There still must be a reason why they said that. Your sister Kiri also told me you were having fun with her today, totally forgetting your siblings.”

Are they for real? Even you, Kiri? Neteyam grimaced. “They’re jumping into conclusions. I-I, W-we’re just friends. I don’t like her like that. I barely know her.”

The woman smiled at her son’s embarrassed appearance. “I didn’t say you like her.”

This time, Neteyam was truly silenced. He didn’t know what to say.

“When I first met your father, I wanted to kill him. There’s anger and hatred for him and his kind in my heart, but I must admit there’s something complex in there too. Something I cannot explain before. Who would’ve thought we’ll come this far? With four lovely children.”

Neteyam looked at his mother before looking down at the sand on his feet. “You and dad told us about your love story million times already.”

“But do you understand what I mean, ma’itan? What I want you to understand is that there’s no use dwelling on thoughts that Eywa clearly hasn’t given you answers for. Wait for everything to unfold, and while doing so, have fun. Experience life with Eywa’s guidance, you know Eywa has plans for you. Don’t think about it too much. Like your father once said, go with the flow.”

Neytiri loves her son, she loves all her children. Neteyam is still young, but since he was young enough to understand, expectations are already heavy on his shoulders. So although, she does not know you enough to trust you with Neteyam’s heart, she’s still happy to help her son out if it means he’ll get the fun time he, as a young boy, deserves. It’s the least thing she can do for him as his mother.

Neteyam watched his mother walked back to their marui, before sighing deeply and standing up. Perhaps this time he can finally get some rest. May Eywa guide him in this confusing times.

You knew something was wrong when you didn’t see Ao’nung and his friends in their usual spot. So against your better judgement, you ran to the place you knew the Sully’s would be. You didn’t even know why you were running and feeling anxious, but when you saw Ao’nung and his friends picking on Kiri, you knew your intuition were spot on. 

“Hey! Back off, fish lips!” Lo’ak shouted, making Ao’nung and his friends turn their attention to him.

Seeing who it was, Ao’nung laughed. “Oh, another four-fingered freak~”

One of Ao’nung’s friends grabbed Lo’ak tail, laughing as he pulled it hard. “Look at this baby tail!”

Despite Lo’ak pushing them away, they kept mocking him, calling his tail baby tail in sing–song voice. They ignored Kiri’s plea, so you ran and pushed one of Ao’nung’s friends. “Enough! Stop this!”

Ao’nung looked at you and sneered. “What are YOU doing here?  Move and don’t meddle with our business!”

“This is MY business! You’re being too much, Ao’nung! What you are doing is disgraceful!”

Your words seem to have an effect on Ao’nung as he became visibly angry. He walked in front of you and pointed Lo’ak and Kiri. “You really like this freaks, huh? Pissing me off and siding with these tree-hugging fr—”

A rough push from behind you forces Ao’nung to take several steps back. You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was as his voice rang above your head, low and dangerous. “You heard what she said. Leave them alone. Back. Off. Now.”

Ao’nung’s friends wanted to speak, but Ao’nung held his hand up, staring straight to Neteyam. 

As you were about to move aside, Neteyam’s hand landed on you shoulder, making you immobile. “And from now on, you need to respect my siblings.”

His voice hinted his authority over Ao’nung, for he was a full-fledged warrior. You felt relief with his presence. Thankfully, no one got hurt, at least physically.

Ao’nung and his friends stared at Neteyam, while Kiri stuck her tongue out in mockery. Seeing their expression, Neteyam finally removed his hand on your shoulder, as if to urge you to walk back with him to his siblings. 

You can feel Ao’nung’s stare in your back as you walked with Neteyam. Sure enough, one of his friends complained. “Brother, why is she helping this family of freaks? Isn’t she supposed to be in your side, not these fr–”

You froze, making Neteyam look at you questioningly. Lo’ak, who’s nearest to Ao’nungs group finally snapped and began walking back. It made Neteyam curse under his breath, knowing full well what’s about to go down.

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam called, both worried and warning his brother to not make trouble.

“I got this bro,” Lo’ak looked at Ao’nung straight in the face. “I know this hand looks funny. Look, I’m a freak, alien,” 

Ao’nung and his friends laughed, but Lo’ak continued. “But I can do something really cool. First, I ball it up real tight like this. Then—”

BAM! BAM! BAM!

“That’s called a punch, bitch!”

You gasps as Ao’nung fell on the water, looking astonished. He and his face immediately charged and tackled Lo’ak, making Neteyam join the fight. You tried holding his forearm to stop him, but you missed.

The fight become chaotic. Pulling, kicking, slapping. Just one big mess, as you heard Kiri giggle in the background. You tried pulling Ao’nung away from Neteyam, but got hit in the face in the process. Both Ao’nung and Neteyam pause, before fighting even more ferociously.

“Stop! Enough!” Tonowari’s voice boomed, stopping all the commotion in just few words.

Oh, Eywa, what a mess. 

Neteyam winced as his tongue made contact with his cut. Some parts of his body was aching, but like that night, he find it hard to sleep again. He suddenly missed their life in the forest, where no one would dare to pick on him and his family, where people genuinely treats them with respect, where he was still the olo-eyktan’s son. 

“Neteyam,” He didn’t turn around. He knew it was you before you even called his name.

You sat down beside him, he didn’t look at you but he also didn’t move away. Neteyam waited for you to speak.

“Can I help you with your cut?”

Neteyam looked at you for a second and saw the concern in your eyes. It didn’t escape his eyes, the bruise on your cheek. His stomach flipped, feeling upset. He found it hard to refuse, so he relented. “Fine. Only if you allow me to help you back with that nasty bruise.”

You smiled. “Sure.” You felt nervous touching his face, but your concern for him won over your anxiety. With gentle touch, you spread the salve on the cut on his lips, trying not to look in his eyes in fear that you’ll lose focus. For a moment, you relished in the silence between you and Neteyam, fully immersed in each other’s company.

“You don’t have to compensate for Ao’nung, it is not your fault.” He broke the silence when you finished putting salve in his lips. 

You paused before smiling at him as you looked into his eyes. You know you had to, so he’ll know you are saying the truth. “Believe it or not, I’m not doing this for that skxawng. I’m not here to compensate for his terrible personality and bad decisions, I-I…”

You paused, suddenly uncertain if you should continue. You continued anyway. “...I’m doing this for m-me. Because I c-care for you.”

Neteyam’s heart thrummed against his chest, but he tried playing it off as he chuckled nervously. “...I’m sorry, I thought…”

You waved your hands. “I’m sure you have an idea now, about you know? My identity.” You didn’t wait for him to respond as you gazed at the ocean, smiling wryly to yourself.

“I’m the only child of my warrior father and a weaver mother. They both died when awa’atlu was attacked by a group of akulas. I was an ‘eveng, so my grandfather took me. He’s an elder trusted by the Olo-eyktan, but he’s often away doing trades with the other nearby clans. He arranged me with Ao’nung in hopes of securing my future. No one asked me what I wanted, no one cared. But Neteyam…this is a shackle, not a path for the future.”

You don’t expect Neteyam to understand, but he did anyway. At first, his fingers grazed with yours, until he slowly intertwined his fingers with yours. You looked at him, too many unspoken words you cannot say, because if you do, it may ruin you and Neteyam’s life forever.

“Oel ngati kameie,” He whispered, as he gazed back at you. “As the son of Toruk Makto, everyone’s expectation of me was to surpass or at least become as mighty as my father. I love my family, and I’d do everything for them. But it gets tiring too, you know? Being expected to accomplish this and that, without a second to breathe. I’d still do it though, if it means keeping my family together.”

Your admiration for Neteyam grew even stronger. You can never be like him, who’s brave enough to do what must be done for the sake of his loved ones. “I admire you. At least you are brave enough to face it, while all I do is run.”

His grip on your hand tightened. “You can still change it, no?”

You didn’t reply, and Neteyam doesn’t seem to expect any. He just took the salve in your hands and began spreading it on your bruised cheek. “Little miss protector, always remember not to interrupt boys fighting okay?”

You giggled and it made him chuckle. When he was finished, he secured the salve in your satchel and urged you to go sleep. You were reluctant, but still nodded. You want Neteyam to have a rest. 

After a few steps, you ran back and stood face to face with him, “Can we meet tomorrow here, same time? I want you to see something special to me.”

Neteyam didn’t hesitate and agreed with a smile. He brushed a stray hair and tucked it in your ears. “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Oel ngati kamiei, Neteyam.” Then, you ran to your marui without looking back, feeling giddiness you have never felt before, unaware of the pair of eyes watching you and Neteyam from afar.

[dangerkittenclaws]

Are your requests still open? I’d love a fic where the (AFAB) reader is in a situation where she’s forced to share a bed with Vessel (maybe she’s a musician who’s touring with ST and the hotel is short on rooms? lol I know it’s super cliche) and in the middle of the night he wakes her up by initiating sex? 🥰

This was so fun to write, thank you!! And thank you for being my first request/ask, I'll never forget it! Sorry it took me a hot second to finish. To be honest, I feel I got a tad carried away but I hope I did our lean bean of a man justice! <3

vessel x f!band!reader

warnings: smut MDNI +18

You were waiting in the lobby of the hotel your tour agent had booked, spinning your luggage case lazily by its extended handle. The staff had been frantic as your large group entered the building.

 IV was at the counter talking to the man who was clicking desperately at his computer. Something clearly was wrong with the reservation, but you were so tired that you really didn't care, you just wanted to slide into a cozy bed and sleep like the dead. It had been a long day, not including the show tonight and piling into a van afterwards. 

Two of your best friends and bandmates, Alexis and Maggie were sitting on one of the lobby couches quietly showing memes to II. Vessel, III, and Liv, your bassist, were sitting on the bench right next to them. You all had gotten to know each other fairly well considering you inhabited a bus for numerous hours, watched each other practice, and went out to eat together. 

You had noticed Vessel staring at times the past few weeks. You didn’t particularly mind the man was checking you out, it felt good to be wanted in a genuine way. You were not opposed to something new. You had become aware of him giving you glances that were a few seconds too long, a hand grazing just a little slower, him waiting for you so he could walk with you to wherever you were going. 

And the teasing and bickering, god, it never ended. You didn't expect any different, being in close quarters with four boys and your three raunchy best friends, it was a constant war. You didn't quite know how to navigate these waters with Vessel though, it had been quite a while since your last boyfriend.

Your attention was brought back by IV walking back over to where you stood, a grimace on his face.

“Something happened to their booking system, they’re overbooked and we're going to have to share rooms until tomorrow.” 

Some sort of seniority took over his voice, “Maggie, Alexis, Liv you can share the two-queen room, II, III, and I will share the other. That leaves you and Ves with the last king room”, he said pointing between you and Vessel. 

Your eyes could’ve popped out of your head at that moment, but you schooled your expression hopefully before anyone noticed. You looked over to your bandmates and saw how Liv wanted to protest, but closed her mouth before she could say anything, knowing it was futile and everyone was too exhausted to care. It was nearing 3am and you were only spending two nights here before traveling again. 

Vessel's eyes instantly shot towards yours, a small smirk forming on his lips, his arms crossed over his chest. Those lips. 

“I guess it's you and me, then, love.” He gets up, standing to his full height before grabbing his duffel bag from beside him. The rest of the group rises and gathers their things, IV giving out key cards in silence. 

You look at your girls, bidding them goodnight with a small wave and suddenly your hands are empty. Vessel had taken it upon himself to steal your suitcase and start walking towards the elevators. 

Startled, Maggie giggles behind you at your expression. Breath leaves your mouth in a sort of sigh and laugh, and your tired legs begin to move in his direction. He is already in the elevator, keeping the door open for you. 

“Damn your long legs.” 

He turns to you once the doors shut, “I hope you have a little bit of energy left in you,” 

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?” You know what kind of tone he has, a playful, flirtatious one that makes you blush. 

“I guess you'll just have to find out, won't you?” the doors open to the new floor and he darts out, immediately walking in long strides and searching for the correct door. You try to keep up, watching him try the key card on the fifth door down the hall and entering. You walk into the blackness of the room knowing he's just in front of you. He nearly giggles as he turns on the bedside lamp and watches your face scrunch up at the sudden light. 

“You could at least warn a girl,” you yawn. Just as described, there is one large plushy looking king bed in the center of the room, a tv mounted to the wall, a little breakfast counter, and a door ajar on the other side, the bathroom. 

Vessel drops both of your bags at the end of the bed, “Okay, me first, I need a shower.” he announces. You scoff and nod anyway, both of you taking out your pajamas and toiletries you'll need to set them aside. 

Vessel puts his hand on your hip from behind you, the boldest move he’s made yet, “I’ll be quick” is all he whispers near your ear. The warmth of his hand lingers on you even though you hear the door shut. You finally breathe again, you had stood frozen for too long. Is this really happening? 

You finally search out the TV remote, finding some mind-numbing home renovation show. You watch a few minutes, zoning out entirely, before the knob of the door twists and you turn your head. Your eyebrows raise at the sight before you. 

He is a little damp, clothes in hand, the last few water droplets running down his lean torso, hair scruffy from the towel dry he did before wrapping it lowly around his waist. You almost drool before looking back up to his eyes. 

“My eyes are up here, darlin,” he smirks. You feel your entire being light up red hot before you want to implode for getting caught staring at the very… enticing area that he is putting on display. It's not like he wears those pants for no reason at shows, it leaves little to your imagination and he knows it. 

You jump up with your head down, grabbing your things and dipping into the bathroom without another word. You shower hot, needing an excuse to be as pink as you were with that fine man that you had been roomed with. Your pajamas were just an oversized Sleep Token shirt and a short pair of plaid shorts. 

After scrubbing the day off of you, you change into your pajamas before your hand hesitates at the knob. You breathe out. We are just sleeping. We aren’t even anything yet. Why am I being so dramatic about this? 

You summon all of your courage to open the door and look out to see Vessel in bed, scrolling his phone, the room only illuminated by the TV. You put your leftover toiletries and laundry on top of your bag before plugging in your phone and pulling back the covers on the other side.

Vessel looks over to you, “Come here, love”, opening his arms to you. You snuggle into his side and onto his chest, as his hand rubs up and down your back. You involuntarily let out a little sigh of relief, finally you can rest. You fall asleep like that, him holding you close and warm. 

You wake up a few hours later, having turned to your side in your sleep, one of his still around your middle and the other under your neck. 

You move slightly and become aware of something pressed against your ass. You immediately hold your breath.

You slowly breathe out, and try to inch yourself away. His arm tightens around you. Oh shit, he’s awake. 

Like he reads your nervousness, he starts to kiss along the back of your neck to the side, underneath your ear. You shiver at his warm breath. 

“Hmm, I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it with your ass backed up to me darling.” You smile and blush at his words, knowing the effect you have on him. He grinds a bit into you as his hand slowly moves towards the waistband of your shorts. 

You realize your shirt had bunched up just below your tits just as his other hand reaches up and runs through your hair, long fingers pulling just enough for your head to move back. You turn to your back when he easily grazes over your clit and you clench your thighs together. Vessel gives you a little growl in your ear and your thighs cave open as quick as your resolve. 

“I've wanted you for so long, sweet thing, and I've got you all to myself now.” His fingers move in slow, small circles over your clit and your hands go to his bicep, grabbing at him for more. You let out a small moan as you lose yourself in the feeling of warmth of both of his hands touching your body and the building starry sensation in your belly. 

You reach down towards his stomach, caressing down, trying to burn the feeling of his skin into your mind before coming into contact with the curls of his hair. You hesitate slightly and he quickly attacks your lips, like he's reading your mind again. 

You continue on to wrap your hands around his long, hard dick and begin tugging on it. He smiles against your neck and brings his other hand up under your shirt to massage your tit before pulling your nipple taut and thumbing over the hard bud forming. He does the same with the other while his fingers work their way into your wet cunt, one slender finger at a time. 

You are getting impatient now, kissing his lips and neck, sucking his soft skin into your mouth to leave your mark. He lets out a whimper before seemingly regaining control of himself. Noted for future reference. 

He slides down your body in a quick moment before licking up your slick cunt, making you nearly cry out. He tongues your entrance before making his way up to your clit and practically latches on. You claw at the bed sheets beneath you eventually finding his grown out hair to pull. You don't know if you want him to stop or if you want more, this is so much better than your own fingers. You buck up into his mouth and he locks his arm around your thighs to keep you from squirming away. That feeling in your stomach is burning. 

He makes a few deliberate swipes of his tongue in succession over your clit and he watches that you come undone beneath him. Your eyes roll back, your hips tighten, and you gasp out his name. He keeps his tongue flat against you, tasting your cum before coming up to kiss you. 

The moment you taste yourself on him is the moment you feel him press against your swollen pussy. You moan into the kiss, wanting more of him. He grabs himself to properly press his dick into you. He does it slowly, making sure you savor every inch. 

“Please, please, Vessel, please”, you beg him. 

“Please what, kitten?”, that slow devilish smirk comes back with a vengeance on his wet lips. 

“Please fuck me, I need you to fuck me.” You mumble out, embarrassed but full of anticipation. 

He thrusts into you fully, making both of you moan out curses. Ves sets a pretty quick pace but makes sure to hit the one spot inside you that makes your pussy tighten around him on every pass. He bottoms out, touching the beginning of your cervix and you see his eyes roll back. 

“God, you are better than I ever imagined.'' He reaches his hand down between the both of you to play with your clit again. This time though, your orgasm is quick to approach with him inside of you. His fingers move swiftly as you grind yourself down onto his cock to meet his every thrust. 

You are scratching down his back trying to find purchase with how full he makes you feel. Soon enough, the pool of white hot in your belly is overflowing again and he changes the angle just slightly, fucking you through your orgasm. You moan out knowing your pussy is clenching around his dick in a vice grip. Just as you cum around him, he settles deep within you and his fingers dig into your hips. His thick ropes of cum spill into you and he pulls out to leave your cunt messy. 

You open your eyes half-lidded after a moment, trying to catch your breath, “Jesus, did you… did you plan that all along?!” 

He smiles wide at you, “Which part, the room sharing or the me-getting-you-to-myself?” 

“Either?” 

“The rooms being short just happened to play into my favor, but I was plotting to get you alone this weekend, my sweet kitten.” He pecks your lips before moving to the bathroom to get a warm towel for you both. 

You sigh out as you watch him, “I didn’t know what I was missing out on, really.” 

You hear his sweet laugh as he comes back in, gently running the towel over your pussy, cleaning you up. You squirm a bit but are easily distracted by the kisses he leaves on your inner thigh. You let out a small yelp when you feel teeth graze and a quick nip before he pulls away. 

He slides in next to you again, pulling you close, “If I have it my way, you’ll be mine forever.” 

“I’d really like that,” you murmured against his chest. You feel him press his lips to the top of your head before you fall back into a satisfied dreamless sleep.

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Fall: I’ve been wondering, how did you get into writing? You seem like you’ve got such a strong grasp on it. It’s kind of intimidating, honestly. You are way too good with your words, especially compared to us, mere mortals.

Shen Yuan smirked as he typed out his reply, leaning back against his hospital bed.

Shizun: You flatterer! But honestly, I’ve spent way too much time hate-reading terrible webnovels and thought, ‘Well, I can’t do worse than this’. Writing fanfiction was kind of a last-ditch effort to keep my sanity after reading PIDW for so long. And…

He started to hit backspace but hit enter instead. Shit.

It took a minute for Fall to answer. Against his hopes, not without asking about that ‘and’.

Fall: “And…”?

Fall: But LOL. I should have known that nothing can beat spite. Not sure if you know - probably you do, since you love PIDW’s world so much -, but there's a commenter, Peerless_Cucumber, who is like that. The angrier he gets, the more eloquent he writes. Barring all the swearing, LOL.

Fall: Shit! Wait. No. Now that I think about it, please, don't check him out! If you two would collaborate, you could take over the world.

Shen Yuan couldn't decide whether to cry or laugh. It seemed, it was a good decision not using his Peerless_Cucumber acc, but it was quite strange to read about himself. Maybe he should tell Fall it was him.

Hahaha. No. Fuck, no.

Shizun: Hahaha, I know about him! Would it be strange if I'd say that I kinda use his long-ass comments/essays as bases for improvement? He is always so detailed with all the problems and issues, it is much better to use those instead of the fan Wiki.

Shizun: So… about the “and”.

Shizun: I used to be quite sickly when I was young. I spent a lot of time in the hospital, and I found out that reading and writing was a wonderful way to forget about the real world. Funnily enough, I'm actually at the hospital rn, turning towards writing once more.

It took a little longer for Fall to answer. Biting into his mouth, Shen Yuan hoped that it wasn't too personal too soon. Shen Yuan glanced at the IV drip beside him, the sterile smell of the hospital room filling his senses. It wasn't that bad.

It wasn't good either.

He wanted to go home. Home had his own bed. Home had his PIDW merch and his favorite pillow his er-ge forbid to bring him to the hospital.

Fall: Oh, shit. That sucks.

Fall: I get that. Reading (and maybe writing, but you may never know) is a safe space for me too. It helps to forget about all the problems in the world, to imagine you are somewhere else, in a better place. Also, I hope you are doing okay! I'm also in a similar situation, so high five bro! (Kinda managed to do something very, very stupid. Did you know that ramen is liquid and liquid does not go well with electricity?)

Fall: On a lighter note, I really think that you are good at writing. You should try to do original work if you want to - you are, like, natural at balancing world-building and character development. I'm kinda jealous, but I've learned a lot just from reading your fic.

Shen Yuan blinked at the screen. It was one thing for random commenters to leave praise, but for some reason, hearing it from Fall felt... different. He found himself smiling stupidly, warmth blooming in his chest. Fall was just so…

He was lovely.

A great “bro”, it seemed. Way to be bro zoned.

Shizun: First of all, don't you dare to

sell yourself short! Not on my watch! You’ve got some pretty good ideas yourself. I can tell from your comments you’ve got a solid grasp on storytelling. Second, what the fuck, Fall?? You okay???

There was a longer pause before Fall replied. Shen Yuan knew that logically, Fall had to be safe, since he could write - they had been communicating constantly for the last two weeks -, but that didn't make it less scary. To know that Fall could have…

To think that Shen Yuan could have died… if either of them died…

They could have never met. It was a strangely disturbing and upsetting thought.

Fall: I'm good, I'm good! Dw!

Fall: Okay, but consider this: I don't think anybody would be interested in what I'd write. What I would like to write about.

Shen Yuan only had one answer to that:

Shizun: I'd read that.

Fall didn't reply for a long time after that, but that was okay. Shen Yuan assumed he needed some time to think about it, and that was okay. He just hoped his friend would realize how much Shen Yuan thought the world of him. He believed in Fall, even if Fall didn't believe in himself.

Shen Yuan, after all, had experience in believing in authors with great potential, who lacked the spine to be themselves and write what they wanted, instead of what the majority of the people demanded.

-*-*-*-

Fall: I've been thinking a lot about SJ and the way you portrayed him handling the Immortal Alliance Conference. It was fascinating to see the parallels. Him killing WY, who murdered those kids to save YQY versus him throwing LBH into the Abyss, believing that he, as a demonic cultivator, also killed all those kids. It was such a great moment! Shocking, because I think we all thought he would not do it since your SQQ wasn't as brutal as Airplane's, but you executed it so well! Oh, I wish Airplanes would have done the same. So heartbreaking! While PIDW created a monster out of SQQ, you created a human.

Fall: I'm also wondering if you plan to make him struggle with that choice later. Like, will he regret it in hindsight?

Shen Yuan considered this, tapping his fingers against his laptop. Fall always asked questions that made him rethink his plans. Actually, he didn't really think that he did such a great job at drawing parallels between the two Conferences, so he planned to switch POVs and continue it from Luo Binghe's, but…

It was actually a great question. The readers already knew about Luo Binghe's experiences in the Abyss more-or-less. Shen Yuan planned to show how staying at a more stable peak affected his physique, but it could be fascinating to explore what happens to Shen Qingqiu meanwhile.

Maybe he could do both…

Maybe-

Shizun: You raised a good question. I think I'll have him grapple with the consequences, it could be interesting to see how things turn out in the mortal world.

Fall: I think you should do it. It would fit your world-building theme… You could make the story feel more real. Like, the world, the characters and their choices have weight, y’know?

Shen Yuan knew exactly what Fall meant.

Shizun: Yeah, you are absolutely right. It was definitely something PIDW was missing - characters suffering real consequences. Even if they did something, be it either bad or good, it didn't really matter, because they either died in the end, or…

Fall: or had sex?

Shen Yuan snorted, typing back quickly.

Shizun: I wanted to say kinky, yet utterly boring papapa, but yes.

Fall: Oh, don't mention it! If I never read the words ‘thrust’ and ‘dangling’ again, it’d be too soon!

Shizun: I hate you.

Shizun: I want to bleach my eyes. I hate those words! And all the euphemisms Airplane use. ‘Flowers’, I get. Even ‘heavenly pillar’ makes sense! But comparing breasts to cow's udders?!?! Sometimes I wonder about Airplane's sex ed background…

There was a longer pause after that. Only his nervous ticks revealed his anxiety over that pause. Was he too offensive? It was not his Peerless_Cuvumber acc, so maybe he shouldn't have been so critical over the papapa scenes? But that was the best part in his friendship with Fall! He felt free to be open, to be himself!

Before he could work up himself, a reply came.

Fall: Maybe he doesn't really like writing sex? Or specifically, hetero sex? Maybe he is…

Shen Yuan stared at the words.

Airplane, his favorite and most hated author might be similar to him?

Maybe.

But…

Shizun: Don't care. I'm gay, and I could write better hetero sex scenes if I wanted to! Sexual orientation is not a good reason to be so bad at something!

Only after he sent the message did he realize that he fucked up. Sure, he might have flirted sometimes as they were talking with each other, but only within the boundaries of a no-homo friendship. But now that he came out in the heat of the moment…

He didn't want to lose a friend.

Fall: Okay, but you are different. You dare to write what you love.

Shen Yuan only realized that he had been withholding his breath, when he could feel himself breathe normally. It was not an explicit acceptance-

But it wasn't a rejection either.

He would take it.

Deciding, he would not bring attention to his accidental came-out, he wrote:

Shizun: If you ever decide to write something, you can also write whatever you wish to. It will be great, I'm sure of it!

There was a break in the conversation, again. He hoped he didn't push hard, since he knew Fall had been pretty hesitant to talk about his own writing in the past, but he hoped his encouragement helped.

Fall: Maybe one day. If I get brave enough to write something worth reading, you’ll be the first to know!

Shen Yuan smiled at his phone, feeling the familiar warmth settle in his chest. He wasn't sure why, but the idea of Fall sharing his work with him first, felt like something worth waiting for. The guy had a way with words, it was obvious from his comments. He was insightful and had an eye for details. Shen Yuan knew that if he ever wrote something he really liked, it would be an instant hit.

-*-*-*-

As the time passed, the day of Shen Yuan’s discharge loomed closer and closer. Which, don't misunderstand him, he desperately waited for!

However…

He had to admit. He didn't really want to leave the Hospital Guy. Sure, he still didn't know much about the guy - not even his name, for fuck's sake! -, but he had grown attached.

Hospital Guy was funny and smart and weird and hilarious. Shen Yuan enjoyed spending time with him, their quiet moments in the garden. He liked talking with/to him about everything and nothing. Hospital Guy was attentive when he ranted about the series he binge-watched between two chapters of PIDW, and they also had the same taste in music! He liked seeing the guy relax, and he loved it even more that he, Shen Yuan, was the reason for his more relaxed state!

He just liked Hospital Guy, okay?! He was just adorable, both inside and out!

So, on the day of his discharge, Shen Yuan mustered the courage to do the one thing he had yet to do: visit the guy's room.

Hospital Guy was clicking wildly on his phone, but the moment he noticed Shen Yuan, he stopped, and focused all his attention on him.

“Hi,” Shen Yuan said, surprisingly shy.

“Hello, Stranger,” Hospital Guy grinned.

“I'm leaving today,” he blurted out. The grin was instantly gone from Hospital Guy's face, turning into an unreadable mask.

It was concerning.

“Oh,” was all he said.

Shen Yuan waited, hoping for something more. A request to stay in touch, disappointment for not continuing their daily walks, or at least a goodbye that felt more meaningful. He waited for something, anything-

But the guy just nodded, his gaze drifting away from Shen Yuan, as if with that, he had already forgotten about the friend he made in the hospital.

Maybe they weren't really friends. Maybe everything was only in Shen Yuan's head.

Maybe he had bothered Hospital Guy all along.

Disappointment surged through Shen Yuan. He’d thought, maybe, there was something there; a connection, a friendship, maybe even more! But the guy didn’t seem to care.

It was as if Shen Yuan didn't even exist anymore.

“Alright,” Shen Yuan said, his voice tight. He would not cry. He would not scream. He would not fight. He would not bother Hospital Guy ever again. “Take care of yourself.”

And with that, he left.

[athenaistired]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂❞

— 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐭.𝟑 //

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: ᴅᴏɴɴᴀ ʜᴀᴅ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ, ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ɢᴏ ᴏꜰꜰ ʜᴇʀ ᴋɪɴᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴɪᴛʏ.

art credit & word count: 2634

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ (ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ): ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ, ʜᴏꜱᴘɪᴛᴀʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɴᴏɴ-ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ᴀʙᴏʀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ᴘʟᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ᴅᴇᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ, ɢʀɪᴇꜰ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ

— 𝑴𝒀 𝑳𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑭𝑼𝑳 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫 !3!

Donna woke up to the sunlight forcing its way through her eyelids. She was in an unfamiliar bed, with Diluc gone from her side, and with a strange string attached to her arm. Her memory was still hazy; the only thing that she could recall was that she was speaking to you about Diluc, but somehow she ended up here.

“You’re awake.” An unfamiliar man in a black suit was sitting in front of her bed on a chair, he seemed to be reading a book in another language with a drawing of a human’s head on the cover, “I’m Sebastian, personal doctor working for Master Y/N in case of emergencies. Just call me by my name. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Just a bit sore all over..” Donna mumbled back, to which the man nodded, “And.. My stomach kind of hurts..”

“That’s expected.” He reached for the paper laying by her nightstand, “You’ve been here for 32 hours, in and out of consciousness. Your medical record is missing information about your allergies, but considering that you and Master Y/N were having tea together, I’d say that you had quite an aggressive reaction towards some type of fruit which was used to make the blend.”

The moment he explained what had occurred hours prior — memories came rushing back in Donna’s mind, and she instantly felt more awake than ever.

“So.. It wasn’t poison?” She asked with hesitance, and the man almost dropped the mug which he was holding in his other hand.

“What kind of person do you think Master Y/N is to poison someone in a broad daylight, in their own home, with this many people around? Of course this was an accident.” The doctor scoffed and got up, “Anyways, leave whenever you feel like it. You seem more than fine to me.” He quickly detached the IV drip out of her hand, and bandaged up her elbow, “Try not to put any unnecessary strain on this arm.”

“A-Alright..”

Donna had actually never seen one of the proper doctors before in her life. Her family were strong believers in Herbology and Barbados’ will, so she wasn’t exactly sure why the doctor had concluded she was allergic to some fruit. Her whole life she tended to the gardens, sold massive varieties of flowers, and even once was a waitress at the bar with all kinds of drinks. Something didn’t seem to perfectly match what Sebastian had described, but maybe she just had to ask you what the two of you had that day to get to the bottom of this situation.

“Donna! Are you alright?!”

Suddenly, the doors bursted open with Diluc rushing inside. He looked even worse than last time she saw him. He was beginning to smell, his hair was forming mats and shining with grease, and his eyes were puffed and red; huge eye-bags forming above his cheeks.

“H-honey.. What has happened to you?” The woman gasped in shock at the appearance of her lover. He seemed to be taken with surprise by her reaction, and took a few steps back to stare at himself in the mirror.

The man froze.

Slowly, he reached to cup his own face as if he couldn’t recognize it.

“That dammed Y/N..” He mumbled to himself, “I am actually falling apart..” He whispered, while crouching down to take a seat on the ground. Now, Donna was more than worried. She got up from her bed and hugged her lover in a tight embrace, “Did they do something to you?” He pulled away to look deep into the woman’s eyes, “Did they hurt you?”

“I..” The brunette wasn’t sure what to say. Was she poised? Was this intentional? Accidental? Were you naturally hostile or angered by the circumstances? She had no clue. “I don’t know. Sebastian told me that I had an intense allergic reaction to something and that Y/N called in the medics to save me.”

“Oh.” Diluc blinked in surprise, “T-that’s confusing me even more now..”

“I know..” The woman sighed, “I know.”

-

You sat at the edge of your bed, as Marie kneeled before you with your right hand in her skillful palms. Your feet were soaking in a warm tub with rose petals floating above the water’s surface, and the maid gently trimmed your cuticles and the length of your nails to perfection. The two of you sat in silence throughout the whole procedure, as you stared at the flickering flame of a candle on your nightstand.

“What do you think, Marie? What are they going to do next?” You asked her a question, and she didn’t even bat an eye before answering to you.

“They are going to try to murder you, my Master.”

You didn’t expect such conclusion. Truly, your death seemed to be an only out for Diluc’s desperate cry for freedom. The moment he’d sign a contract provided by you — his life would be over. Staying in the same mansion with you would also ensure his and Donna’s suffering until their last breaths. But in order for him to be back in control of his future — he would need to erase you. You let out a bitter laugh, however, Marie’s expression remained as stoic as always.

“What do you think I should do?” You questioned further. You watched her grab a warm cloth, and rub your palms in gentle motion, as if trying to cleanse you of your sins.

“I am a mere servant, my Master.” She reminded you.

For a second, you saw red. Without a thought you slapped her hands away from yours’ and grabbed at her chin — forcing her to look you in the eyes. She didn’t tremble, she didn’t fight, she just froze. Your anger vanished, and slowly you melted into a fake smile. Your thumb hovered over her bottom lip, and you brought her closer to yourself, until you both could feel each others’ breaths.

“You’re my servant, Marie. I don’t keep fools around me, do I?” You then let go off her, making her lose her balance for a second, but she quickly gathered herself and bowed her head in submission, “Now, speak.” She rose her gaze, and you encouraged her once again with a raised brow.

“I believe for there to be two options.” Marie began her speech, and took your feet out the tub to place them on her thighs and wipe them dry, “You get rid of Master Diluc and send Mistress Donna back to Mondstat. Nobody would believe her that it was you who hurt Master Diluc, but even if they would, a single mention of his crimes across the world and that it was all done in self-defense would guarantee your innocence.”

She was finally done taking care of you, and proceeded to reach for freshly the ironed socks by her side.

“And second?”

“You get rid of Mistress Donna, and make Master Diluc fall into the deepest depths of despair, so that he won’t have anyone else to turn to for comfort — but you.” Marie buckled up your shoes, and stood up, instantly straightening her back, “The choice lies in whether you prefer to execute quick revenge and forget, or, to keep a hold of your revenge until your last breath.”

You laughed at her words.

“Do you believe for revenge to be a waste of time?”

“Many people who consider themselves above others would say that, but I solely believe that your decision is absolute, my Master. I believe a yearn for revenge made you into a person who you are today, and Master..” Marie locked her hands together by her chest, “You are an entity beyond my comprehension.”

“You flatter me, Marie.”

Looking at her, you saw emotions which Diluc had never expressed towards you. Yes, he loved you. But young love comes and goes. Meanwhile every single one of your servants in this house, were undoubtedly loyal to you. There was no hesitation that every single maid, butler, cook, and even the recently hired doctor would die for you. Kill for you. Live for you.

Diluc was never any of those things.

“I think I made my decision.”

You’ve made that decision long time ago, and there was no reason to back out on it now. Even if Diluc would put you in the casket, you would crawl out with a knife in your hand to continue to haunt him. You weren’t sure where this obsession was coming from. Perhaps it was boredom. Maybe, you were just that evil and prideful. Or even..

It was just fun.

-

Donna decided to finally leave Master Y/N house and go for a walk. They have been living in the mansion for a month now, and each day was worse than the previous one. She tried to make it work. She followed all lessons which you signed her up for, she learned the etiquette, she put herself on a diet, did her hair to the best of her ability, but one thing for sure — each day was more miserable than the other.

The moment that the sun would rise, she would feel the dread wash over her. Even when you weren’t at the mansion your spirit and your presence were felt everywhere. Your mere gaze was driving her insane, even giving her nightmares. She had a dream, where you were smirking at her with a maniacal glare in your eyes whilst holding a blade to her throat. Then, there were visions of you poisoning her, assassinating her, or hanging her off the ceiling.

Donna’s thoughts were getting darker and darker. From a light and careless girl, she has become something else entirely.

Perhaps, being with Diluc was the biggest mistake of her life.

As she finally stepped through the gates of Mondstat — the whispers began. Nobody in this city knew what you were truly like. How terrifying, how cruel, how manipulative. They all saw you from the best angle, meanwhile, Donna was seen from her worst.

“Homewrecker..”

“Slut!”

“Whore!”

“To get together with a married man, no shame at all!”

“How can she even bear to come back here..”

Even though they were mere whispers, their voices seemed to be louder than her own thoughts. She had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep herself away from shedding tears. Her life had become so terrible. Although she was outside, it felt like the curtains were still drawn. She couldn’t see the sunlight as bright as it used to be. A part of her was still locked away in that mansion — forever caged.

She felt her heart rase, her breathing picking up — she was panicking. There were so many people, and they all hated her. Yes, she did a bad thing, but did she really deserve all of this? Were her good deeds before this now completely forgotten? Where did all of her friends go when she needed them the most?

She had no one.

She was so alone.

“Is Sister Barbara around?” Donna asked as she had finally reached the church. Her feet felt sore, and the base of her spine was aching.

“One second.” One of the nuns had ran off to get her. As Donna waited she took a seat and looked around the church. Perhaps, she should beg, no, plead Barbados for His guidance. For His help. For His involvement.

“She’s here.”

“Donna! I haven’t seen you in a while.” If there were someone who hadn’t changed their attitude towards her — it was all the nuns, especially Sister Barbara. Maybe she was just very good at hiding her real thoughts, but Donna preferred to indulge herself in a more positive light.

“Hi, Sister Barbara.” The brunette murmured shyly, “I sent you a letter a week ago..” She reminded the other, and at first Barbara seemed confused, until she remembered.

“Ah, yes, yes!” The young girl continuously nodded her head, “Let’s head to a more private room.” She gestured for Donna to follow her out the church, and into the next building.

Barbara wasn’t the only doctor in Mondstat, in fact, she wasn’t even an actual licensed professional how Sebastian was. However, people with healing hydro abilities were granted permission to accept patients and examine them if required. Donna didn’t trust Sebastian, so, she sent a letter ahead explaining her symptoms to the blonde girl and arranged time and date of their meeting.

Barbara made the woman lay down on the examination table, as she checked what worried her most. She applied pressure on different parts of her body, especially her stomach. Then, a frown covered her face and she spread out her palms across Donna’s stomach — hydro particles suddenly formed in the air and circled around each one of her fingers — until they had vanished. It seemed that the blonde had come to her conclusion, but was hesitating to speak.

“Donna..”

“What? What is it?” The brunette was already imaging the worst. Was she dying? She must be dying! “What’s wrong with me?” The longer she wasn’t hearing an answer, the more panicked she got.

“You’ve had a miscarriage.”

What.

“I.. I was pregnant?” Donna stared, and Barbara nodded, “What do you mean I had a miscarriage?” She breathed out a pained laugh, “I didn’t bleed or anything.. I..” And then — it hit her. She understood what happened. You didn’t poison her that day. Your intent wasn’t her assassination, but rather.. “N-no way..”

She was drowning.

Her lungs were getting filled with the sea of sorrow.

“NOOOOOooooOOoOOOooOOooo!” A howling, blood-curdling cry was heard echoing through the halls of the hospital. Her tears were running down her cheeks like a river, and Barbara’s comforting embrace felt like the last hold on her humanity.

That day Donna hadn’t just lost her past, but she also lost her future.

-

Donna came back home only a week later. She might have not even known her child, but the grief was weighting down at her heart. She always wanted to be a mother, and from a young age she was told to be infertile. She never said anything to Diluc about it, because the topic was never brought up. But now, she was finding out that her miracle baby was forcefully taken out of her. She felt violated, torn, and broken. Every part of her soul had shattered like glass with pieces scattered so far apart that they’ll never be fixed back together.

“Donna.. Finally.”

Diluc was hugging her, but she couldn’t even feel it. Her body just froze, meanwhile, her gaze and mind were elsewhere. She couldn’t stop thinking about her lost child. Was it a girl, a boy, or twins? Were they going to have her brown her or their father’s crimson locks? What about their eyes, their height, their smiles? Were they going to grow up to be strong and powerful, or would they prefer a more standard and quiet life? Why did this happen to her? Why wasn’t she given a chance?

If only you had asked her to decide between her child and Diluc, she would have chosen her child in a heartbeat.

“Where have you been?” The man whispered into her ear, and she felt his tears falling onto her shoulder and soaking through her shirt. She hadn’t cried since that day. She hadn’t even said a word. Her whole world was stuck in that one moment, unable to move on, “What happened to you, my beautiful?” Diluc was playing with the locks of her hair, just how he used to.

He hadn’t changed, but she was now a different person. She was in grief. He was in despair.

“Can we kill them?”

Diluc instantly pulled away, and stared at Donna’s empty eyes. He blinked once, twice, but still couldn’t believe his ears.

“K-kill who?”

“Master Y/N. I want to take their life.“

FINAL CHAPTER !

[anamelessfool]

Papa's Metamorphosis (pt 2)

An Interactive Adventure (hashtag #papas metamorphosis) Part 1

One morning, as Papa Emeritus IV wakes from anxious dreams, he discovers that in bed he had been changed into a tiny, evil little doll.

Hahaha, please I am just razzing you. It's the Dungeon Master in me. (And these options will come up again) OK, enjoy part 2. And Vote on what happens next. CW: Drug References

Onward to the Ghoul Den

Papa takes a small comfort in the fact that despite his predicament, his rats still recognize him. Two of his favorites waddle up to the side of their cage, rubbing their nose against his outstretched felt nub hand. It’s oddly heartwarming to see them at the size of small ponies. Worst case scenario if he never figures this all out he can at least literally cuddle pile with his rats at this scale. “Stay strong for me, my little potatoes,” Papa soothes, more to himself than anything. “I’m sorry your breakfast will have to wait.”

Papa steels himself with a fortifying breath, preparing for the journey ahead. His ghouls would know what to do. And would probably not laugh at him for whatever he looked like right now. He slips out of his rooms and into the hallway, flattening himself against the walls to avoid detection as he scurries towards the ghoul den. Luckily the ghouls lived downstairs and therefore he could simply throw himself down the steps, bouncing stupidly the whole way and remain relatively unharmed. Upstairs would be a tough climb stair by stair but Papa does what always has and looks on the bright side. The ghouls will immediately solve all his problems painlessly and he would emerge from this situation completely unscathed and able to climb stairs with ease.

Naturally.

Papa knew ghouls are nocturnal but as far as he was concerned this was an emergency situation that warranted an urgent wake up call. He’s now in front of their rooms in the basement of the ministry, preparing himself for one of the most impossible challenges he’s yet faced in his life: opening their heavy front door.

He gets a running start from across the hall, slamming his body against the door. He bounces back and skitters across the floor, the door still shut. Cazzo. He rubs his head and tries again, putting his weight into it and again he flies back, gasping.

As he dusts himself off and swears, his rats come to mind. He knows rats can squeeze under a place as long as their skulls can fit. They're very collapsible and resilient. He eyes the crack under the ancient door. It's quite large now that he looks at it. He presses his head in his hands, then holds them out to measure. Yes, he could do it.

And so Papa maneuvers his head under the door, and his plush body compresses as he slides through, groaning through gritted teeth as he forces himself through the vice made by the door and the floor. But he’s through. It worked. He makes a mental note to never do any major upgrades to the Ministry as long as he’s Frater Imperator. They really don’t make shitty, drafty doors like they used to.

All at once Papa is hit with the strong, pissy herbal scent of cannabis in the air, and he hopes it doesn’t leech into his stuffing. Merde, these ghouls need to get a grip, he thinks. Their common area is relatively clean except for several empty pizza boxes stacked beside the sagging couch. There’s a few towering water pipes and empty soda bottles on the coffee table. Papa sees three of his ghouls distorted through all the glassware, dozing across each other on the couch: Swiss Ghoul, Mountain Ghoul, and Aurora Ghoul.

“Ghouls! Ghouls!” yells Papa as loud as he can. “My Ghouls!”

Swiss blinks his puffy red eyes several times, assessing and reassessing his vision. Copia bounces in place by the couch, muttering the whole time. Swiss regards the mess on the coffee table, coughs, then taps the other ghouls awake. They all slowly come back to life, rubbing their heads.

“Am I seeing this?” Aurora asks, swiping at the air. Papa jumps back, narrowly missing her claws. “Like…is this guy real?”

“This is the wrong shit to be seeing tiny people with, Rory,” mutters Swiss. “Yeah. This thing is real.”

“Erm, this eh, thing, is your Papa,” sputters Papa. “Copia. Your summoner. You, uh…have to help me?”

“Holy shit he’s small.” Aurora Ghoul is shaking, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Or am I big? Am I like, super big now? Hoooly shit, guys—”

“Rory, stop being dramatic,” Mountain says, still leaned back on the couch. “You had like, half a puff of this. Honestly.”

Copia attempts to climb the coffee table, but the smooth wood legs slip under his little felt hands. “Don’t you ghouls em, know magic? You know…spells?”

The three ghouls exchange glances. They silently decide Mountain is the one articulate enough to break the bad news to their Dark Master. “Well…did you specify we’d be able to do magic? When you summoned us?”

“I don’t…” Papa frowns, stamping a little foot on the rug. “Listen, it’s not that important right now! Do you know spells or not?”

”I mean…thing about magic is, you gotta be real specific,” Swiss adds, with a shrug and a phlegmy green cough. “That’s kinda its whole bag. You wanted musicians and uh…well, you got ones.”

”With all the musical talents of Satan himself,” Aurora Ghoul adds with pride. “And I’m pretty good at making cocktails.”

“She really is good,” says Mountain.

“But that was that bartending course I did during off season, nothing magical about that.”

Papa feels the vibration of heavy, sleepy footfalls arriving from the bedrooms and Cumulus appears, bleary eyed and wearing a massive purple silk sleep bonnet. She already begins her tirade against the noisy ghouls as she enters the main room, crossing it to get to the fridge. “What the fuck are you going on about? I swear if you bought more of that gas station weed again—”

Swiss tosses his arm at her. “No, no, that was a single stupid mistake!”

“Yeah we test it all on Phantom first now,” says Aurora.

Cumulus rips open the fridge and removes the carton of orange juice, snatching a clean glass from the counter. “Yeah well, about that…” She is mid-pour when her eyes land on Copia standing by the coffee table and waving his little felt arms. Her face falls into a mask of confusion, and for a few seconds she forgets her glass is full and juice splatters across the floor. “Do we have…pests?”

“It’s me!” cries Papa. He hops up and down, attempting a friendly smile. “I’ve been cursed!”

“He’s been cursed, ‘Lus,” Mountain says helpfully.

Cumulus Ghoul places her glass on the counter, her brow furrowed, her head slowly tilting in bewilderment. There’s a tense silence as she studies the paraphenalia scattered across the coffee table, then her packmates, and then the impossibly tiny version of her boss fretting on the shag rug. She blinks, once.

“I’m going back to bed.”

And she does.

“You all are just….just!” Papa crosses his arms. “A real em—drag!”

“Sorry, Papa,” says Swiss. “That's fucked up. That's a total bummer, man.”

“You want to retrace your steps or something?” Mountain suggests.

“No, certainly not!” Papa is incensed and in his mind he’s done with these ghouls. He marches through the common room, his thin felt legs flailing in a determined and irritated goose step. “I'm looking for ghouls with er— brains! Some common sense!”

He reaches the hallway with its bathroom and three adjacent dorm rooms for the rest of his dark army. Certainly not all of them are lazy degenerates, Papa thinks as he adjusts the tiny hat on his head. One of them at least would have a good head on their shoulders…

Your vote contributes to how this story goes. As for the "Other" option I have a right to pick and chose what works for me personally. This story is PG-13.

The polls are 24 hours but I may not post every day.

Please reblog for maximum impact! Let's have fun here.

[nyxyxx]

Godly Desires - Part 4

Finished up the Diluc part for now. This chapter is quite short - (I was super tired). Just a simple interlude chapter before we get to the huge Monsdtadt part I. II. III. IV. Warning: This series will contain yandere content and religious themes.

"Sweet Dreams"

-

When you arrived in the room that Diluc had arranged for you, you noticed just how lavish it was. It definitely didn't look like just an ordinary person's room. It was odd, but you loved how luxurious it looked. Upon finally being able to relax, you noticed just how weary your body felt.

Perhaps it was because you've been doing so much all this time, that the idea of a nice, comfy, warm bed was just too difficult to resist. You forced yourself to not just lunge onto the bed, - for fear of damaging it - and climbed inside, and shortly after, your mind began to drift away.

Next thing you knew, you were standing out in a sea of stars, surrounded by a vast nothingness, yet it felt like everything was just in reach. You held your hand out, and imagined an apple, and sure enough, an apple materialized in your hand a moment later.

How is it possible to dream inside a dream? You've never heard of such a thing before. It was weird, this whole situation was weird.

You suddenly thought of your family, and of your friends. When you thought really hard, you found that you could not remember much about them. They were just figures, shadows in your mind. Saying words that you know you've heard before, but felt so... unfamiliar. You tried to remember something in more detail, like school - but there was nothing. You vaguely remember being in school, but you don't remember what classes you had, your classmates - nothing.

It was almost as if your mind was detaching itself from your real life, instead being replaced by memories from your dream. When you thought more about your best friend, you realized that they had changed. You recognized them more now. They were almost certainly a different person than the previous person you had thought about, but this one felt... like there was more of a connection.

You heard your friend talking to you, but couldn't make out the words. She seemed happy about something, staring off into the distance without a care in the world. She sat on top of a green hill, bare feet in the gentle blades of grass. She laughed, and although it was inaudible, you could feel that it was a very soft laugh. She was a very soft person.

Then, she turned to you, and embraced you gently. Her body trembled and shook, as her hands held onto your clothes like they were her lifeline. A few solitary tears fell down her face, but the smile on her face had never once faded. She spoke a few words to you, whispered softly in to your ear. In that moment, you felt an extreme anguish, but even though she knew you could not hear her in that moment, she smiled through her tears. In the next moment, she had disappeared, just as quickly as she had first appeared.

You woke up crying, wiping a few stray tears out of your eyes. Despite that, you felt good. You felt very good actually. You felt like you had the best sleep you have ever had, comfy, and safe, warm...and happy.

When you had finished getting ready, you left your room and sat down in the dining hall, where the maids told you Diluc would be waiting. Sure enough, he took the seat across from you, and smiled. "Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Oh yes, I slept great. Thank you again for letting me stay here," you smiled. He called for a maid to bring out the breakfast for the two of you, and shortly after the food had arrived.

The two of you ate together, quietly and peacefully, but very much enjoying each other's company. When you finished eating, as he had promised, you prepared to leave, though he did seem regretful that you were leaving. "You are welcome to visit whenever you wish, please have a good trip." The two of you said your goodbyes, and it was finally time to move on. Your next stop was Mondstadt city.

-

Taglist: @justyoureader; @mmeatt; @iamapotatoe; @clavichordcleffa; @yu-ulda; @c3rtifiedsimp; @eravariety: @vianitry; @dulcedelechenginamo; @reveihehe @liansh3ng; @angelofdarkness2; @reveihehe

[iktomi-toni]

Guys idk when this sudden hyperfixation on mha and dabi specifically started but here we are :/

Also Ive never written Dabi before and this is not proofread so I'm sorry if he's a little ooc I love him a lot guys :)

(Yan!)Dabi x reader

TW!!! Adult themes so MDNI, mentions of blood and wounds(not reader), unhealthy coping mechanisms, dark content, um.. kidnapping?, mean dabi, afab!reader, toxic behavior (not reader), mild suggestive themes, he is literally obsessed with reader, he loves you but he's not very good at expressing his feelings, yandere!dabi, stockholm syndrome!reader because I said so, also some minor reader descriptions mainly just about height and stature though, also I do not condone any of what is written here please do not do these things !!

You knew that walking home alone at night was not a good idea, but the busses weren't running, all your friends were all too drunk to drive and so were you. You'd heard the stories about the girls going missing before, you just never thought it'd happen to you.

And now you were sitting in a cold, dirty, empty room, your hands and feet were tied and they're was a rope (suck to what you could only assume was a collar) keeping you tired to some object that was embedded in the wall, and to make matters worse you were also gagged and blindfolded so you had no idea where you were or how you got there. Stuck in your tiny dress and heels you decided to wear to the club you were beginning to get really cold and couldn't stop the shivering, you could feel that you were sat on an old worn out mattress with a small blanket on it but your hands were quite literally tied so you couldn't cover yourself.

Going over what had happened in your head you realized you likely passed out not lond after your fourth shot, when you'd stepped outside to get some air because you felt really wobbly and suddenly super tired so you'd stepped out bag in hand so you could smoke a cigarette, naively thinking that would help, but next thing you knew you had woken up here, unable to move, see, or do anything. The only explanation was that you were drugged. To say you were scared was a bit of any understatement. You didn't know where you were, you could see or do anything. For all you knew this building you were in could be in the middle of nowhere, so there was a chance that even if you screamed until your throat bled nobody would hear you. Not even your quirk could help you, all you really could do with it was heal yourself and those you touched, not very useful in a hostage situation, especially considering you were the hostage.

All you could really do was bide your time until your captor, whoever they may be, came back for you. Surely they didn't go through the trouble of kidnapping you just to leave you here. So that's exactly what you did, you waited. And you waited. And you waited. You waited for what felt like hours, probably because you had no way of paying the time. Eventually, though, you heard a door in another room open and shut, and footsteps that seemed to get closer and closer, every step this kidnapper took seemed to take an eternity to get to the next one, until finally they stopped outside the door to the room you were being kept in. Oh your heart was pounding so hard, you had no idea what to expect, being kept in the dark(literally and figuratively) was something you absolutely hated.

The door was opening and your heart rate picked up even further. Your kidnapper walked in and closed the door behind them, as he walked closer to you you could tell by the weight and rhythm of his footsteps that he was definitely a man. He stopped right in front of you, crouching to meet you where you were, on that old dirty mattress on the ground. He took the blindfold off of you and before your eyes could adjust to get a good look at him he stood up and walked over to an old rusty fireplace on the other side of the room. Using his quirk he set it ablaze, seeing the flames turn a bright and intense blue you had to hold back a gasp, immediately recognizing that if you tried to fight him you'd be burnt to a crisp. In that moment you decided that fighting was not a viable option, you'd just have to be the perfect prisoner until the right moment to escape arose.

You stared at him as he stood, staring at the fire. He only looked at it for a moment before speaking up. "I know you won't recognize me. It's been.. far too long. However I still recognize you, y/n." You were even more screed now, how did he know your name? How much more did he know about you? So many thoughts raced through your head but he probably already knew that you were trying to recognize him, trying to see if you could remember him, so he cut off those panicked thoughts. "You can call me Dabi now." He turned to face you finally, the first thing you saw were his scars, and there were so many and they were so big too. Just what had happened to him? In your current state you found yourself feeling just the slightest bit sorry for this man, even though he'd kidnapped you, and you still had no idea who he was. You wanted to speak but he'd never taken the gag out of your mouth, so whatever you'd wanted to say died on your tongue before it'd ever see the light of day.

The man you now knew as Dabi, walked closer to you, he walked slow like he wasn't in a rush, like he had all the time in the world. Once he reached you he sat in front of you on a stool next to the bed(if you could even call it a bed, this mattress was really falling apart). He pulled the blanket over your legs, he didn't want you catching hypothermia and dying on him after all. "I wish I could've brought you some place nicer for our first time together as adults. But right now, I just don't have much of anything really." He spoke so matter-of-factly, but his words left you confused, did you actually know him from somewhere from your childhood? If you did he looked so different now that you'd never recognize him. You tried to ask who he was but all the sound that came from you were just mere muffled noises due to the cloth wrapped around your head keeping you gagged. "I know, I know. You have questions, but I need to keep that pretty little mouth of yours quiet until I can trust that you won't do anything stupid." He let out a long dramatic, yet playful, sigh and dragged his fingers through his dark hair before he continued on, "You always have been a little dumb and ditzy haven't you?"

He was laughing at you. This man was really rubbing salt in the wound he'd inflicted. Mocking you for falling into his trap. It made you want to cry, you hadn't really done anything wrong and now you were here. You felt like you were really all alone.

Well except for him.

As time passed by you realized that he didnt seem to want hurt you, for most of the days he just talked to you, sat with you, held you often. Sometimes when he was in a good mood he'd take you gag out and adjust the restraints so you were more comfortable. Yeah he could be kind of mean when you cried too much or questioned him too often or ever said anything stupid, but for a kidnapper he wasn't that bad. You've heard of cases that were far worse than yours. Over time he gave you more and more freedoms, but he never let you leave his sight if he was with you and if he wasn't you'd be restrained again, gagged and blindfolded. He often told you he loved you and that he needed you, and how after all your time apart he felt complete to have you again and he couldn't let you go, not again. He never said anything more about your past together though, leaving you silently taking your brain to try and remember him. It was almost as if he didn't want you to remember the old him.

Eventually he'd put locks and boards on the windows and made sure every door in the building had at least three separate locks on each one, just so he could let you move around a little, considering how good you'd been for him. You don't know how long you've been here, maybe a few weeks or maybe a few months? It was hard to tell. But you didn't have much strength anymore, he didn't feed you very much, you did eat at least once a day but not enough to maintain your body weight, you've definitely lost a few pounds, so in turn your energy levels also depleted. Likely also part of his plan to keep you where you were. He wasn't so cruel as to starve you to death, however, so he did make sure to feed you.

One day when he came back from wherever it is that he goes to he was angry, he was walking really loudly, slamming doors and cussing throughout the place you were both in and it made your heart race, you'd never seen Dabi angry before.

He walked into the room you were in and slammed the door behind him. Your hands were tied up behind your back and your ankles tied together, gag in mouth but no blindfold this time.

You tried to keep your eyes off him, out of fear of upsetting him, he hated in when you stared at him.

Making yourself as small as you could, you looked down at your legs, avoiding any and all eye contact. He shot his fire into the fireplace with somewhat if a disregard, the walls and floor around it turning black with ash. The smell of burnt paint and ask filed your senses and you stole a glance at him, wanting to see what had happened. He was breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down as he gripped his hair. It looked like he was really struggling with something, you almost wanted to comfort him. You were kind in nature and it seems as though that's become your downfall. You don't look at this man who kidnapped you and see a criminal, you don't see a villain, you don't see evil.

You see someone who needs help, who needs love, and care.

Deep down you knew that was a dangerous mentality and it's likely what got you here in the first place but you just couldn't help it. You hated seeing people in pain, hurting. It hurt you when others were hurt. It probably has something to do with your quirk. As your eyes moved from the burnt walls and floors to Dabi himself. As you looked at him you noticed a huge gash in his abdomen and he was bleeding a lot, blood was dripping his side.

You wanted to heal him but you were tied up for him. He'd rather you not move about when he'd not hear, he fears you'll leave him and in his mind he won't make it another day if lost you again.

On the rare occasion when Dabi was allowed outside to play when he was a child, he was at a park and happened to meet you, little you. He remembered exactly how small and kind you were, how happy he always felt when the little kid versions of you two played together. That's when the infatuation- no, the obsession with you started. In the turmoil that was his youth your rare playdates at the park were the light in his life, he didn't look forward to much else, with all the abuse and neglect from his father. Until one day he got seriously burned, which is what caused him to look the way he does now. First it was abuse, next he nearly died, finally he was neglected and forgotten about by his whole family and since then, he'd disappeared. His only regret, not finding you first.

But now he'd found you, he has you. You are his. In his mind he owns you. And he'll never let you go again. But now that things were finally starting to go well for him he ran into his asshole father out in the street and it pissed him off, the thought of know he has you here, at home waiting for him was now the only thing holding him together. He was thinking about how he'd use you and your abilities to, quite literally, hold him together. He needed you, he needed you to heal him, yes. But he also needed to feel you. He needed to feel you so bad. He'd been holding back for your sake, he wants you to want him. But he's also growing impatient, especially with the situation with endeavor he needed a release so bad, if you didn't start to want him soon he was going to get desperate. But little did he know he'd get lucky tonight. In more ways than one.

Slowly he tried to calm himself, just a bit for your sake. Once he wasn't so panicked he started walking over to you, when he got there he crouched and removed your gag and started untying you. "Let me heal you Dabi, I can help you!" You nearly yelled it at him, you had caught him off guard. This was exactly the reaction he'd needed from you, he'd been waiting for you to want to help him, to want him. And it looked like you were finally getting there. Fully removing the ropes from your legs and then your hands he looked up at you, it was like he was looking for something, he was being cautious, he was looking for any sign of you lying but your eyes were crying you, you looked worried, for him. "Okay." It was almost silent, that's how quiet he spoke. He moved so you could see his wound, it was really bad. Like you were apprised he was still standing.

Leaning down you gently raised his shirt to get better access to the damaged area. Putting your bare hands to his wounds, this was the first time you've seen him like this and the sight of him trusting you made you blush ever so slightly. You were glad it was dark. You'd never admit it before but after spending all this time with Dabi you honestly started to like him, you starting to find him really attractive. And seeing his chest and abdomen exposed like this was making you feel things, things that left you getting very conflicted.

On one hand he literally kidnapped you and is keeping you locked up in this cold empty building. But on the other hand you've begun to really like him, you've begun to want him. When he doesn't notice you've started to look at him the way he looks at you after a long day, full of want and hunger. So you healed him. You treated his wounds. You comforted him as you healed him until he was better. You were wearing that little dress you wore when he found you, he loves seeing you in it so he made you wear it often. You were so focused on healing him and your own conflicted feelings that you failed to notice him looking at you. His gaze might as well be glued to your thighs and tits the way they squished together in your tight little dress made his head spin, he wanted you so bad.

With the hand opposite his wounds he reached over and grabbed your thigh, he didn't grab so hard it hurt but he made sure you knew where his hands were. You jumped a little at the sudden contact, but tried to ignore it as you focused on his injuries. That proved difficult the way his fingers slowly inched up your though closer and close and closer.

By the time you were done healing him there were butterflies in your tummy from the way he touched you, one hand on your upper inner thigh, the other on the curve of your neck and jaw. You could feel him starting at your body and suddenly you felt a little exposed, shifting where you sat. Moving his left hand to the back of your neck and his right to the small of your back he quickly leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, he seemed like he hadn't wanted anything more in his life. Like he needed you more than he needed oxygen. His hands roamed around your body roughly as he kissed you and that was when you realized that this would be a very long night.

[pinknipszz]

golden girl

↷ ˊ- neteyam/metkayina reader | (i.), (ii.), (iii.), (iv.)

“cause i have walked a thousand miles for the golden girl, golden smile.”

neteyam had finished the spearhead in a matter of days. after having secured the carved bone to the end of a sturdy pole, he tried its durability against some fish, but not without whispering a few prayers beforehand. his arms had grown taut from the strain, and neteyam feels sorry for leaving you worried, even when he had apologized that he’d be missing another day’s lessons for reasons so futile.

but you, oh so beautiful you, had placed a gentle hand on his chest that spoke a thousand reassurances. the skin underneath your palm rejoiced at the contact, buzzing with delight. neteyam couldn’t even begin to recall what you had really said to him. but if you asked what beads were in your hair or what your eyes remind him of, he’d have an answer. he’d say it like gospel truth. 

after you had left, he returned to the spear. he was still a warrior at heart. 

neteyam remembers how the weight of it felt strange in one hand, and how he didn’t quite know what to do with the other. if you had been there that day to watch him, hunting fish with an aim that wouldn’t even impress a baby, you would have called him out on his tense shoulders or unsure feet. it just felt awkward, unfamiliar. his stance, his spear, the sea. but he didn’t want to call it wrong.

sure the smooth stone was too heavy for an arrow and too thin for a spear, but he would never call it wrong, a freak of nature. maybe he would have in the past, but now he knew what it really was: a little like him. carved for the forest before he changed its purpose. now the weapon was neither arrow nor spear. neither land nor sea. it lays tucked away in his family’s marui, collecting dust and dreams he dared not speak.

visiting the tidepools became a pastime, just as you predicted. it had not even been several days since neteyam last asked you to accompany him, but you didn’t mind. it made up for his recent absences. while you do adore his siblings and treat them like your own, you admit that there’s a charm in the eldest that simply could not be replicated. so when he had asked you one morning, your heart jumped eagerly.

you felt guilty the more you realized the reality of the situation. you joined the group for tuk out of the goodness in your heart, and now you yearned for her older brother. it made your stomach churn, yet a quiet, selfish part of you wondered what it would be like to stand by neteyam’s side, to call his family your own, and to have his child. you wanted a hand to slap you across the face, hard, for such thoughts. 

the sun peeked through the overgrown palms as you and neteyam followed the familiar path to the pools. it didn’t take much convincing from your parents, much less his own, as if they could see something far beyond the line of friendship. growing and taking shape. the thought left you stubborn, willing to deny and fight for your pride, but you knew that it’d be for naught. neteyam captivated you beyond recognition.

you grew shy of his advances too, if you could even call them that. his silly attempts at conversation, the looks he gave you from afar, even now, with his hand entwined in yours, as he led you to the spot. they fell under an umbrella without a label, or on a blurred line between friends and something more. you bit the inside of your cheek until it drew blood, nervously savoring its copper.

“there will be more fish today.” neteyam said almost to himself, his eyes trained forward. “the waves were high last night with fish of all sorts of colors. you will like them.” you’re not sure if that’s how it works, but you didn’t comment on it.

“then we’ll bring fish for your family.” you squeezed his hand, committing his rough calluses to memory. warm. so warm. “you’re siblings are doing much better now. i wish you had been there to see it.” you remember how lo’ak had finally beat his record of twelve minutes with a commendable sixteen. truly a magnificent feat considering it had only been a few months worth of progress.

tsireya had been the first to congratulate him, all sunshine and smiles. kiri and tuk joined right after. you were fourth, and ao’nung the reluctant fifth. the metkayina trio had decided to end the lessons on a high note by dedicating the rest of the day to “unsupervised” ilu riding. truly, lo’ak had grown spoiled. but there was the unmistakable glint of disappointment in his eyes at how neteyam had not been there to see it.

his steps slowed as if to absorb your words properly, before turning to you with a strange expression. “is that how you feel? if you had asked me to stay, i would have.” neteyam said so easily, his voice light and borderline teasing. how cheeky! you looked away first, unable to maintain eye contact for too long. 

the sea smelled stronger here at the edge of the mangroves, numbing your senses. you could only imagine how neteyam felt. the pools were closer too, and oddly enough, he had been right. the pools were higher, deeper, fuller. they reminded you of what you suggested prior. fish for his family.

“did you bring your spear with you?” you asked.

neteyam shook his head, shrugging. “left it at home.” home. you didn’t catch his slip.

he let go of your hand so you can jump off the rocks. then, he followed suit. neteyam memorized it by now, the patterns in the rock. where to step, to pause, to turn. how one had more algae than the other. he doubts he’ll ever get over the feeling of wet algae though. it nearly left him nauseous, but he won’t tell you that. “then how do you suppose we catch fish?i thought you were a hunter.” you huffed.

“a warrior,” he corrected.

“is there a difference?” 

surprised with your sudden curiosity, neteyam thought for a moment. truthfully, there wasn’t much of a difference when both hunters and warriors fought to survive. most times he felt like one or the other, other times neither. “somewhat,” he decided, choosing his next words carefully. “one hunts, the other kills. unless you plan to eat your enemies, then you could be both.” your face scrunched in disgust and you punched his shoulder.

chuckling, neteyam reached down to splash water in your direction. “i’m glad you can call yourself a hunter,” he continued. “i don’t want war to touch this place.” fish darted to and fro, and plants waved their tendrils at you. when his eyes grew distant, focusing on violent memories, you watched him quietly. never had the differences between you two been so clear, like the waters of your home. 

you were a hunter, he was a fighter. you hunted with intent to feed, he fought with weapons to kill. the cycle of life and death, just as the great mother had embedded in your psyche. like natural law. it was just as strange how two na’vi of two clans could stand so close together, so strongly juxtaposed. sometimes you wondered if this was wrong, or simply one of the many unexplainable things that ewya had intended. 

but how could you ever call it simple? even when his shade of blue was so different from yours, and how arms and legs and tail were so much thinner, you swore nothing has ever looked, felt, so right. “did you hunt in the forest?” you asked.

“often.” neteyam looked at you, so much lighter than he ever has before, at the mention of his first home falling from your pretty lips. two of the things he loves most entwined together. he fought the urge to kiss you, to feel the forest and the sea at once. “the first thing i caught was a fish.” 

“you and i aren’t so different then.” you grinned.

neteyam finally felt that, after all this time, the move had been worth it. he promises to bring the spear next time.

(masterlist)

[cafecourage]

Idk if requests are open; if they're not, please feel free to ignore this!!!

Okay so uh, I know that the post I'm gonna reference is more than a year old, but I just discovered your blog and I went on a binge and, well...

The Dragon Au Part 2? The one with Sky (along with the other boys, but I'm focusing on Sky)? Where you said that Sky would probably never tell his S/O about him being a dragon despite the trust he has in his S/O?

It's just...so sad! 😭 So, if I may, could I request a fic where Reader (who is, or wants to be, Sky's S/O) finds out that Sky's a dragon?

Maybe he accidentally shifted during battle, or maybe one of the other Links accidentally let slip that all of the Chain (and, therefore, Sky) are dragons? I'm not quite sure about how Reader would find out, but they do; cue them crying to another Link (probably Time, bc he's The Dad™) or even Sun, and Reader admits that they feel like they're a terrible person bc surely they did something to make Sky not trust them, right...? And Reader asks for advice on what they can do to make up for whatever Bad Thing they did, and how to be a better friend to Sky, etc. etc.

I don't like angst if it doesn't have a happy ending, so idk how to end it on a happy note; maybe Sky talks to Reader about it all & they "kiss & make up" (either figuratively or literally lol)?

(Again, feel free to ignore this if requests aren't open!!!)

IVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE THIS EVER SINCE I TOLD PINKY ABOUT IT.

Typically you were stay away from battles if anything you were learning how to fight. In this battle though your back was towards a cliff and the monsters were blocking your way into the forest which is where you normally hide. Well… This was a particularly bad situation to be in. You duck and tried to weave through but each time you tried to you almost get hit. Luckily Sky was staying by your side for a bit to fight the monsters off. Though the chain was truly outnumbered.

Not to be a downer but you think they might need a miracle.

Then it happened.

A Lizalfos got a fairly lucky shot at you right in the shoulder. The impact knocked you back off your feet and stumble back.

Right.

Off.

The cliff.

It was weird. You didn’t scream. But something did. It was loud and it felt like the air was full of electricity. In a blink of an eye a black plop swooped down heading towards you. When the blur finally crashes into you whatever it was brought you into its arms and pulled up. “Keep your eyes close.” You hear Sky whisper in your ear, you didn’t even know that your eyes had been closed the whole time. It’s not like you’re going to open them now. Especially with a warning like that.

There was a lot of screaming not just from the boys but monsters as well. A few crashes of lightning made you flinch and hold onto Sky tighter. Slowly your curiosity had peaked and you open your eyes and glanced up at Sky.

Sky who was typically the softest person in the world looked monstrous. His eyes were sharper more snake like and Night Sky-esque scales framed his features. Giving his once soft face a fiercer look to it. It could also be the death glare he had on his face. Behind him were two bat like wings and long serpents tail that matched his scales. It would have been breathtaking if you weren’t loosing blood.

Your glaze was met with his now electric blue eyes, “put me down?” You asked as you had to force yourself to look at the others but as soon as you moved the arrow that was lodged into your shoulder made its move. A curses leave your mouth as you slump back in his arms.

Sky was about to speak but Hyrule beat him, “We should find and get camp set up. For now Let me see what I can do.” The team’s medic was in charge now as the battle had been over for a bit now. “Rancher, Champion can you scout out a better, safer place?” He leads Sky with you in his arms to be seated. When settled with you in Sky’s lap and Hyrule helping you through the process of being stitched up.

You had so many questions to ask but you honestly doubt you would get answers too. “I have a question.”

“Yes Darling?” Sky’s voice was a bit more gravely than normal.

“Are you guys…” You had not idea what to say about this situation as you would assume dragons.

“Yes.” Time said before you could find the words.

A beat passes you look up at the token father, “all-“

“All of us yes.”

“Ok…” You lean into Sky’s chest. Before something bothers you again, looking up at Time again you go to ask him something.

He just sighs “yes. I’ll explain later about how our magic work. Just focus on healing.”

[deareverlasting]

Paladin of Voltron AU - which lions do you think the gang would wield? so far ive got... ashlyn as the black paladin - the black lion typically looks for a natural leader, someone who won't hesitate to make hard decisions and brings people together, someone who will stand their ground. ash fits these traits in a lot of ways, shown in how she took charge to keep them safe in the phantom dimension from the very start and continues to give her all in protecting everybody and getting them out.

tyler as the red paladin - the red lion tends to choose those that push their limits, stubborn and prideful, sometimes even aggressive. her paladins are usually the most likely to act on their own and react on impulse, the right hand of the black lion.

tyler is shown to be stubborn and hot-headed most of the time, and while he doesn't tend to stray from the plan- he does voice his opinions very loudly when he thinks there are any flaws in ashlyns plans. and as a duo, i think tyler would make a pretty great right hand to rely on for ashlyn once they've gotten to know each other and warm up.

aiden as the blue paladin - was sort of tough to place, he was fighting real hard for the red lion but ultimately i put him with blue. if we go into a soft dive for blue, you can tell she likes paladins that are open, willing to follow along and adapt, and humorous. while aiden isnt the first to start a group therapy circle, he isn't outright against it either, he just is never quite given the chance to really open up about his own past. but he does follow right along after ash, ready to move whenever a situation changes out of their favor and is no stranger to trying to keep the mood light.

logan as the green paladin - i think green looks for a curious mind of sorts, someone who looks at a puzzle with sheer determination instead of blinking and turning right around. logan is smart, that much is obvious, but he is also the one who figured out most of what they know of the phantom dimension. he was scared yes, but he still figured out so much despite his fear, he felt more than to leave it well enough alone.

and ben as the yellow paladin - yellow is the hufflepuff of the lions i think, it isn't too picky about who pilots it, but they do look for someone reliable in almost any situation. someone stable, almost predictable in a way? the foundation of a group. ben shows this in many ways, one particular moment that comes to mind is at the arcade when things started getting sticky with logan. he was the very first to get up and start throwing hands because that's his friend and he won't watch him go through the same thing he did.

and finally, taylor as allura - this girl was fighting teeth and nail for blue lion but i caved in because aiden and tyler as the dynamic blue/red duo could NOT be missed. i do have this little idea that the twins would be half altaen bastards who were seperated at birth. i think this could also pose conflict when they try to make alliances with other planets because she isn't true royalty. + for a bit of angst throw in their dad saving her when the planet was destroyed. EDIT: another idea for the twins, they were seperated when the planet was destroyed, and when they were about to be put into a cyropod and everything, maybe tylers launched on accident and landed on earth? he wakes up with zero memories of who he was but enrolls into the space garrison because he for some reason knows so much about space and the need to go up there because something is missing but he doesn't know what.

honorable mentions! ashlyn as the red paladin (i thought it could be a sort of keith and shiro situation where she doesn't want it but she ends up with black anyway, i just don't know who would be in shiro's stead, mike?) aiden as the red paladin taylor as the blue paladin and aiden as allura (think about the potential ash and aiden could have here, PLEASE! just switch the flirting dynamic lance always coming on allura but with aiden jokingly flirting with ashlyn all the time) i ultimately chose these pairings because everyone ends up where i want them to be..sort of, except for ashlyn. aiden would eventually become the red paladin, taylor as blue, and i was trying to work out ashlyn going from red to black, but again, i don't know who she would be replacing. to make this work i was thinking maybe the twins were both woken up from their slumber by the team, both fully altaen.

[goodluckclove]

clove my kind comrade. i have a very emotional writing advice question for you. this turned kinda long, i apologize

i've been working on college applications these last few months, with the majority of that time taking the form of essay writing. and in these months it has been discovered that, at least to my dad's standards, my normal nonfiction prose writing skills are absolutely abysmal. i would write a draft, think i had everything pretty much shiny and complete, only to have everything i had worked so hard to finish absolutely picked to shreds by my dad and told i needed to start over. and there's nuance to this; i do quite literally forget a lot of writing tips and processes that worked for me, and it took last week's adhd diagnosis 17 years too late for me to stop hating myself for not being able to write a 300 word essay in a week. but this has left deep scars on my psyche and sent me for the most intense mental heath loop ive had in years.

that all contributed to a very intense anxiety ive developed about writing. i'll open a wip (or hell start writing an ask) and i will feel such a sense of dread. it's like i'm reaching into an oven that i know i've burned myself on so many times before. i can barely write a sentence before i start overthinking things too much and give up. this is specifically talking about my own personal writing. five minutes ago i opened my most self-indulgent wip that only four people on earth would ever be allowed to see and felt such an overwhelming fear of "what if it's bad". "what if it doesn't read this way to people". i've never had that before. i write what i write, and it's generally pretty damn good. but the anxiety i have about these stupid college essays has bled into MY work, MY own fun projects.

essentially, what i'm asking you is if you can offer any advice of how to conquer this anxiety. i know that an essay and a gay little fanfiction are fundamentally different things that cannot be equated with each other, and i know that other people's opinion on what is ultimately a self indulgent project can be easily and happily disregarded. but i can't have a self indulgent project if i can't even bring myself to physically write it.

this turned into a vent lmao. i hope you and Wife and the cats are doing splendidly.

Hi Bas! This ask made me deeply angry when I read it last night! Shame from artists, especially young artists just starting out in life and in their craft, apparently provokes a pretty deep rage in my soul.

I'm fine now. I'm at a coffee shop. Thank you for a pretty vulnerable and heartfelt insight into your brain-space, and I'm going to give it a pretty long and ramble-y response because that's what it deserves - and honestly, you've known me for long enough that I'm sure you kind of assume this is what's coming. Before that, though, I get the sense you're pretty anxious and drained. In the name of meeting your sincerity I would like to offer a look at the drawing my surrogate child demanded I draw for them after they saw the terrible Sonic the Hedgehog I drew from memory last night. Their prompt was "T4T Sonic/Shadow"

What do you think? I gave Shadow a wallet chain. I've never drawn fan art before but I do think going forward I'm going to give most, if not every famous IP I draw a wallet chain. This made me grin a lot because it's so fucking weird. Also it's not canon. Canonically Shadow would not smoke a blunt. Canonically Shadow the Hedgehog vapes.

Okay I made myself properly silly time for business. Come follow me into a hypothetical situation so I can talk to you (and anyone in your position - which is a lot of people your age) more intimately.

Okay, so I'm at a new coffee shop. It's open concept, fairly minimal an industrial in decor. I'm in this seated nook in the back at a bench by a large round table. The lighting is soft. There's a lot of plants and the baristas are like kind of anti-social which usually means the coffee is going to be great or pretty bad. Luckily it's the former - I got this iced maple cardamom latte. They have other drinks too. Tea. Your usual coffee varieties. They have a rosemary syrup you can put in lattes that I might try if I feel like I want another coffee later. Take my card and order something. I'll wait here.

You're back? What'd you get?

Mm. Fuck. I should've gotten that too. Nevermind, it's fine. I'll probably come back here again.

Okay, so college essays. I'm going to go ahead and just open by saying that college essays are absolutely not the same as nonfiction prose. Flat out, end of sentence. They're aren't apples and oranges - it's like comparing an apple and a used 2007 Honda Accord.

Good nonfiction means different things to different people. I personally enjoy a bit of humor and love for a subject, even if it's mundane to most of society. My wife prefers a Wikipedia-level of dry Academia. Different strokes.

College admission essays, however, are not good. They're really not. From a vague amount of research it seems this has been an issue for decades now.

You can still write like a bad college essay, don't get me wrong. Something riddled with typos or dribbled out by a generative AI. But if you look a little bit at what the people who actually check applications are, it seems the spectrum isn't "bad to great" as much as it is "bad to fine". My own college essay was some bullshit about how I learned about myself and the world around me by going to the grocery store before school and buying a baguette to have for lunch. It was stupendously mediocre. I got into college.

There's a lot of reasons for this. It could be because the average 17-18 year old isn't given the tools or opportunity to write really solid nonfiction - probably because the society we live in doesn't expect them to have anything to contribute in that way, but that's beside the point. You're taught essays. Ways to format papers that, from what I gather, only really apply in academic settings. When I was in high school the average essay had pretty stark parameters students were expected to follow, and from what I've heard those parameters have only gotten more specific.

With all that in mind, I understand why you're freaked out. If you look up tips on solid college essays the advice is like just comically vague. Be authentic! Focus on deeper themes! Pose a philosophical question! That last one actually made me laugh out loud when I read it, because it's so insanely discordant compared to how I've seen people you're age be treated. To go straight from people assuming you need your hand held on nearly anything to having a person say "Hey solve nihilism in 450 words " is baffling.

There's real advice in this odd, clickbait-y quips. You shouldn't feel like you have to play a character or pretend to be something you don't want to do, because that comes across in the text pretty easily. You should consider exploring a topic, because it reveals more about you as a person and that's valuable to the application as a whole. You - I'm going to go out and say you don't need to pose any sort of philosophical quandary at all, actually. That's a pretty wild thing to ask a huge portion of New Adults to be able to do.

So this isn't nonfiction. This isn't a think piece or a memoir, even though people might compare it to both. This is closer to a cover letter. You should still try, but do so knowing this is separate from your skills as a writer. Once you do that, you'll hopefully be able to relax enough to actually let your character slip into the work. What you mainly want to do is express a sense of your voice and sort of imply an idea of the type of presence you would be as a student at your school of choice. That's the point of the application as a whole. It's not going to win a Pulitzer. It would be truly, very weird if an admissions essay won a Pulitzer.

The other thing that I think might be making you and people in your shoes feel crazy is that you're in the period of your life when a lot of adults around you are going to say just the wackest nonsense. Oh this application determines the rest of your life! The stakes have never been higher! This is your future! You're setting the entire course of the rest of your life right now, somehow!

That obviously is also not true. Next year will be a decade since I graduate high school, and I still actually have no idea why some people had that level of intensity. It strikes me as incredibly counter-productive. I explained this to my kid, and they were shocked when I told them how many paths there are to get a higher education. You can get your first few years at a community college and then go to a university. You can go to a polytech school (They make them for the arts too! my brother went to Cogswell and it was such a cool campus) and get straight into industry experience. You might get into a university and transfer to a different one because it has a better program or opportunity.

All of these are cool. Not going to college is also cool, although it comes with other pitfalls. You can also go to college later on down the line. If you haven't figured it out yet, existing in the world is actually really flexible and open in terms of life choices. A college application, essay included, is not likely to play a huge part in the grand scheme of your life. The results of this will give you a sort of better understanding of your options for a plan for the next - like - year, maybe? It won't even determine it. It's more of a cool, maybe or a cool, I guess not right now situation.

It's also way harder for most people to work with a smaller word count. Less words mean less margin for error. That's stressful. You aren't a failure for struggling to write 300 words in a week when you can't choose the parameters of the writing, can't change the deadline, and probably have a bunch of people saying how crazy important all this is. Those are batshit work conditions for someone who doesn't have ADHD.

For someone who does, I can see how easily this would warp the perspective you have on everything else you do. Being picked apart by someone who hasn't been where you are in like 20+ years but still expects you to take their words as gospel? Confusing! Maybe feeling the inexplicable need to compare yourself to any published nonfiction you've read and loved, even though this isn't even nonfiction - and if it was, those writers have definitely been working in the genre longer than just goddamned now.

I think I've told a few people your age that this is the point where you kind of have to pick and choose how often you listen to the adults in your life. That feels irresponsible for me to say, but I do stand by it. When it comes to the transition between high school and college, most established adults are just crazy biased. Maybe because they raised you. Maybe because they're blinded by nostalgia and think that high school was the best part of their lives. Maybe they aren't familiar with the work you want to go into and what's needed to get a start in it. Or they could just straight up not understand how the college system works now.

It is such bullshit that you eventually have to craft a sense of internal intuition out of essentially nothing but it is a thing. It takes time, though. I won't pretend like you can make it happen immediately right now.

What matters is that you're okay. I promise you that - you're okay. Looking you straight in the eye, Bas, you're a good writer. Not "good for your age", I have read enough of your actual writing to know that you're pretty solid already. I've also read enough of your posts and had conversations with you to know for certain that if you wanted to pursue nonfiction you'd be pretty good at it right off the bat. This would be under the usual standards of a nonfiction writer, of course - meaning you get to pick the length, subject, and when you finish it.

You are in the unfortunate period of going through multiple transitions at once. It's hard enough to navigate the way relationships change when people decide (or struggle to process) how you're an "adult" now (also not really true in a lot of ways, but that's another ramble). But going so long under the assumption of having a Default Brain Experience and then realizing that all of the struggles you assumed were normal are actually an imbalance of chemicals is jarring.

It's treatable, yes. Once you get on a medication that helps with the dopamine everything is immeasurably easier, holy shit. But even then it's still painful at times because the difference is so palpable you sometimes stop and think why did it take so long for me to be able to have this? Why did no one see I was struggling? That was my experience, at least.

This is a crucial point in life where you have to be extra kind to yourself however you can. Once you get on stimulants, if you go that way, drink a lot of water and remember to eat (Some of them can make appetite wonky and I think they all dehydrate you). Be careful with caffeine because they do make you more sensitive to that. Maybe like just stop thinking about whether or not your writing is bad or doesn't work in certain ways because I am a Professional Writer and those kinds of thoughts have literally never been helpful to me. When they pop up in my brain I literally say "no" and force myself to think about something else.

Whether your writing is "good" is not an actual question. Is it coherent and does it contain a noticeable and unique voice? Yes. Is it what you want? I can't answer that, but if you say no the way to fix that is usually read more/write more/think more/share with other more.

Also does it read the way it should to other people? Stop it. Don't worry about that yet. You have to finish the damn thing or else it won't read any way to anyone. So much of writing is Second Draft You's problem.

Anyways that's all I have to say. My heart goes out to you for being pulled in so many directions. From my own experience it gets slightly easier once you submit the apps, but people do continue saying dumb nonsense until like midway into your first year in college. And if you end up leaving college for some reason or another people will keep occasionally saying dumb nonsense. But usually by then you're more equipped to ignore them.

You're going to be okay. You are an intelligent, insightful, artistically capable and deeply kind individual. Whether you share your thoughts and make your stories, true or not, through text or art or a mix of both, you have so much to offer. Just remember that.

Also I'm hungry. I've been writing this for a while and I didn't get any work done on the painting for my wife, but it's almost noon and I didn't have breakfast. There's an American Chinese place near here and they have pretty cheap lunch specials. Come on, get your stuff and let's take a break.

Mongolian beef yum yum.