#like everything i do has a deep set guilt and cringe to it no matter what

[webvampzz]

do u ever overthink the tiniest shit like changing ur pfp

[chiwhorei]

team spirit

pairing: k. sakusa x fem!reader x a. miya

genre: college!au, smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: 2.6k

warnings: threesome, semi-public sex, daddy kink, spitting, a spank, a tiny bit of choking, tit-fucking, degradation, a little coercion, curruption, gaslighting, voyeurism, a subtle age gap (freshman vs. senior in college), cum play, cum eating. nothing too crazy and everything is consensual- it’s just pretty dirty lmao

a/n: in a radical act of self care i have given up on kinktober as it was killing all love that i had for writing. i present to you a piece written solely because it made me h-word. thank you to the love of my life @hqbbg for beta reading, you have my soul and share my desire to be mask-man’s little bitch.

hymn: smells like teen spirit by: nirvana

“Didn’t I tell ya’, princess?” Atsumu’s voice is low and sharp against the shell of your ear as he brushes away a rogue strand of hair from where it fell from your high-pony. The action gentle, the tone unmistakingly galled. “I told ya to behave, but ya’ never want to listen to me.”

The grip he has on you is bruising, fingers nestled on your hips, large hands scrunching your pleated cheer skirt and exposing you to the almost empty locker room. Your boyfriend’s hard-on is distinct against his shorts, pressing against your bare cunt. Your hips buck desperately in his hold, but any fight is useless. There’s no way Atsumu will give you more than just minimal friction; only enough to make you dizzy and malleable in his capture.

Atsumu isn’t oblivious. He’s fully aware of how sweet you look every week, cheering on the sidelines of his games, donning his jersey number in a heart on the apple of your cheek. Having the prettiest little member of your college’s cheer squad in his bed every night never fails to fill him with an almost evil pride. Ever since the beginning of the season, your first year in college, Atsumu has been on you. The moment he first saw you, skin sheened with a layer of sweat and workout shorts riding up high enough to see the angelic curve of your ass cheeks, you were his. He totes a fine line, dancing between cockiness at his prize girlfriend when you’re hit on or ogled, and egregious rage.

Game-night started the same as any other: Astumu sneaking away before warm-ups to kabedon you against the wall when you walked out of the girls locker room. You always flush red-hot, no matter how many times he traps you, fiddling with the pom-poms in your hold. He grabs them from you, tossing them without care onto the ground to pull you tightly against his hard chest, your wrist pinned against the front of your uniform top in one of his hands. The rest of your squad walks by the two of you without much thought; the scene unfolding is rehearsed at this point. It seems like the whole student-body ignores the two of you.

“You act more like a horny teenager than a senior in college, Atsumu.” You puff your cheeks out and glare at him from the fringe of your perfectly curled eyelashes. The fake-blond towering above you snorts at your defiance.

“Well, you act more like an old prude than a freshman in college, princess.” His lips dip lower to fan over yours, “And my name ain’t Atsumu.”

Your knees feel weak trapped in his grip, his presence a strange mix of comfort and distress. You’re welcomed home into the den of a lion. You gulp down a painful air bubble trapped in your throat and mumble an apology.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

It seems to please the arrogant setter, earning you a chirpy laugh as he twirls a piece of your hair in his finger. You hate when Atsumu seems upset with you, so relief washes over you at the light gesture. He releases his hold on your wrists and pulls you into a sloppy kiss. You melt into the feeling of his lips, his hands rubbing up and down your arms lazily, causing your body to slack against him. Atsumu’s attention always renders you compliant (often against better judgement).

“I’ve gotta go, but make sure I hear ya’ cheering out there for me, sweetheart,” he says after letting go of your lips with one last nip. So begins the quick restoration of your uniform from where it was misplaced by setter fingers. After you’ve collected yourself under the watchful eye of your senior, you bend at the waist to pick up the stray poms and feel the swift union of Atsumu’s hand against your ass. You scoff at his childishness, even though you had expected it. Game nights are always the same.

The same round of cat and mouse, the same suffocating sexual tension and embarrassing public display.

The only anomaly tonight is the lecherous stare of your boyfriend's teammate on your folded body. A stare that shouldn’t belong to the curly haired man fixes onto you and the view of your tight pair of spandex has turned him into stone.

Pride is a cardinal sin, and so is lust.

“Do ya’ like what ya’ see, Omi? She’s a pretty little thing ain’t she?” Your eyes snap up to meet the gaze of the man in front of your disheveled form. Sakusa’s eyes are dark and cold; his expression reads indifference, but the hard cock in his shorts is clearly seen. He’s frozen in place a few feet in front of the bench you’re displayed on. Your crisp white sneakers are on either side of Atsumu’s built thighs, knees bent and held in place by the man under you. Your uniform top and bra have been pushed up unceremoniously, freeing your tits to bounce slightly with every squirm. Sakusa watches every jiggle of soft, supple skin in front of him. The tent in his boxers is becoming painful with every heave. Both hands are pressed stiffly to his sides, left hand clutching your white, cotton panties. The fabric is damp, sticking slightly against his fingers and making him cringe. Disgusting.

Atsumu’s hand wanders down to spread the puffy lips of your pussy, long middle finger proading against your tight hole. Atsumu growls at the feeling of your arousal, not wasting any time sticking a digit into you with practiced movements. You whimper at the intrusion, legs feeling weak and shaky from their strained position as Atsumu adds a second finger with ease. He always knows exactly how to work you over, rendering you at a loss for words with his prodding against the spongy anterior of your pussy.

“Y/n is always such a little mess on her daddy’s fingers.” His middle and pointer finger are pulled out with a resounding pop and his palm lands a harsh pat against your clit. “Do you like putting on a show for Sakusa-san? He seems to fancy ya’, doesn't he?” You’re asked a question but can only yelp in response as Atsumu’s fingers are shoved back into you, pumping with fervor.

The tall man in front of you is only partially familiar; aside from volleyball games and visiting your boyfriend at practice, you’ve only seen Sakusa at the occasional party or team dinner. He’s never seemed too keen on getting to know you before, but now he’s palming himself at the sight of your most intimate angles completely open for his viewing pleasure. Sakusa’s slightly flushed cheeks and boring stare causes your cunt to clench around Atsumu’s fingers. Ever the painfully observant man, neither the tightening muscles nor the reason behind it is lost on the blond.

“Ya’ like being watched, that’s why yer sloppy pussy’s extra wet tonight, huh?” You shake your head frantically, not wanting to admit that the heat rising in your stomach is due to your voyeur’s deep brown eyes. Atsumu is a prideful man, some would say too much so, a fact he’ll have to atone for later. One thing he isn’t? Greedy.

“Omi-omi~” The singing of the stupid nickname seems to snap Sakusa out of his stupor as he flicks his eyes to meet Atsumu’s. “Don’t be shy, c’mere.” Sakusa is still working long strokes over his confined cock, stepping forward to further invade your personal space. Atsumu’s chin rests against your shoulder, face amused and casual, disconnected from what his hands are holding.

All you can do is look up at the looming figure, black hair falling in front of his face and mouth set in a harsh line. You’re eye level with the bulge in his shorts now, so close you can almost feel the fabric against your lips. Every sense is overwhelmed, crowded in the abandoned locker room with your boyfriend working you open in front of his teammate. Sakusa reaches out and runs his finger over the uniform top that sits wrinkled up above your breasts. His calloused pad runs over the article in a moment of contemplation, before pinching your hardened nipple. A surprised yelp falls from your lips along with the already tumbling whines.

Distracted by your new company, Atsumu’s cock releasing from his shorts goes unnoticed. With the dark, inky stare keeping you hostage, you only realize his fingers are being replaced when the hardened tip is pressing into you. A pathetic squeal rips through your throat at the breach. No matter how many times Atsumu stretches you out on his fat cock, it burns every time.

“I think ya’ should help Sakusa-san out, princess.” Another few inches disappear, your shaky balance is corrected with one of Atsumu’s hands wrapping around your neck, “Since it’s yer dirty little body that’s got ‘em all hard.”

The intonation wracks you with guilt, looking up at Sakusa with bleary, begging eyes. You’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for.

There’s no restraint left in Sakusa, having used most of it up when your panties were ripped off and tossed to him with a cheeky wink from his setter. He shoves said garment into his pocket before pushing his shorts and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free. Your eyes roll slightly at the sight in front of you, impressive in length and pleasantly veiny. Right under his head, you see two freckles, noting they almost mimic the ones right above his eyebrow.

Atsumu’s cock is snugly inside you, buried to the hilt, and you're pulled back into his broad chest by the grip on your throat. Sakusa holds himself at the base, stroking upwards and swirling his thumb against the precum collecting at his tip. He leans over you, slapping his head against your tits experimentally. The reaction Sakusa gets seems to be the one he was seeking, as your whispered cries thump to the same beat of his length against your skin.

“Such a nasty girl. You always look so sweet and innocent cheering for us. Does he fuck you like this after every game?” Sakusa has found his voice, regarding you coolly. Tears prick at your eyes, any retort caught behind your teeth as you stare back dumbly.

“Answer ‘em princess,” Atsumu lifts you up slightly to slam you back down onto his heavy cock; the sound is squelching in the stale air around you, “tell ‘em how you cream on Daddy’s cock after everyone leaves.”

“I- please, I-” You’re cut off by your own mewl when a string of saliva breaches Sakusa’s lips and falls towards your chest, watching as it ascends onto the valley between your tits. As it rolls down your sweat-sheened skin, the black-haired man rubs his weeping cock down the map his spit makes. Your brain is fuzzy at the attention of both men, warming your boyfriend's cock as his teammate grinds himself on your naked chest.

Sakusa grabs your wrists, causing your thighs to wobble weakly from their squatted position, and presses your palms to hold your breasts against his shaft. The pressure has Sakusa’s head falling back as soft, warm skin welcoming his shallow thrusts.

“Such a complaint little pet you have, Miya.” His hand brushes against your cheek and trails downwards to find purchase on your chin. “Dirty little girl,” his voice coos you, “Open wide.”

Your mouth falls at his order, fussing weakly at the nickname. Another sharp putt meets your ears and his warm spit hits the fattest plane of your tongue. Tears escape at the sides of your eyes with the overwhelming presence. Atsumu begins a slow assault on your aching pussy, removing the hand on your throat to pull your hips against his lap. The rhythm is a salacious duet with the cock nestled between your tits and has you clenching even tighter.

“Ya’ better not swallow Omi’s spit until I say so, princess. Keep that wicked tongue out for him to paint.” You do as you're told, as always, tongue lolled out with a pant. At your passivity, Atsumu rewards you with tight circles to your throbbing clit. His cheek presses against your own, peering over to watch his friend’s cock against your chest with wonder. Such a distinct beauty is found in the ruined body on top of him. As much as Atsumu appreciates the sweet, loving moments that he shares with you, the sight of your precious body bent to his will makes his dick twitch acutely. It’s sick how much he enjoys seeing how far he can push you-

“I’m going to cum on your girlfriend's sweet face, Miya. Christ, it’s disgusting how much she seems to want it.”

However, your enjoyment in your own depravity and humiliation is much more sickening.

Atsumu’s pace picks up, skin slapping against your sore pussy with new resolve. He wants to see you break into pieces right on the locker room bench. Your vision is spotting at the pressure on your clit, mixing with the dulled sting of being split open on the blond setter's thick cock. All you can do is produce a garbled squeal from around your dangling tongue. Sakusa pulls his cock from your chest, pumping his hand feverishly against the soft skin. The sight is almost unbelievable: a man who barely allows his teammates a high-five has your hair wrapped around his other fist. Your head is yanked back, eyes entrapped by Sakusa’s. Atsumu’s fingers are unrelenting against the bundle of nerves that now feels more like a ticking time-bomb.

“C’mon princess, don’t hold back on us. I wanna see ya’ cum right in front of Omi. Show’em how much team spirit ya’ got.” Atsumu’s teeth bite down onto your neck, angling his tip to press against that deepest spot inside of you. The fraying cord in your stomach is pulled taught, snapping at the feeling of Sakusa’s hot cum against your face, thick spurts landing on your cheer uniform and splattering against your already marred tongue.

Your own orgasm tears through you, burning deeply through every vein in your body. It’s sinful how your body reacts to the messy splotching of a stranger's cum against you, thrown head-first into release at the ministrations of the men on either side of you. Your tight rings of muscles pulsate around Atsumu’s cock, coaxing his own orgasm out to meet your silky insides. There’s nothing better in the world, Atsumu thinks to himself, than fucking his hot cum into your sweet, submissive body.

As the pair of volleyball players steady their own breathing, another menacing laugh escapes your boyfriend’s mouth. He peers over the mess in front of him, strings of cum drawing random patterns against your chest and cheeks. He turns your face towards him and smiles, finding that you did exactly as he asked. Your mouth wide, tongue still stuck out and awaiting further instruction. Such a perfect girl you are, letting Atsumu’s most debased fantasies play out on your innocent little body. Your job is to motivate his team after all, and there’s no better way to boost comradery after a win than to celebrate the best way he knows how.

“Team spirit, huh?” Sakusa tucks himself back into his shorts, leaning in to swipe his cum against your lips as a parting gift. You watch him with glassy eyes and suck on the digit when pressed against your tongue.

“That’s for sure.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[whimsicallyreading]

Part Four~

(Part Three)

Aelin loved Elide. She did. The tiny brunette was like a little sister to her.

But if she said Lorcan Salvaterre’s name one more time she was going to throttle her.

Aelin smiled through her annoyance, as Elide filled her in on her new boyfriend. They organized shelves, set up displays, cleaned couches, as she gushed on and on.

If it was anyone besides that walking, talking, ass, she would be thrilled for Elide. She didn’t go on dates often. After the car wreck when she’d lost her left leg, Elide became shy and timid with people she was unfamiliar with.

Aelin wanted to fill her in on what happened the night before. Tell her that exactly how her new boyfriend treated women when she wasn’t around, and the crowd he hung out with. She just- Aelin frowns and rubs the space between her eyebrows. She didn’t want to damper Elide’s happiness.

“He took me to this little restaurant on the Avery River last weekend. It was adorable,” Elide babbled as she rearranged the new releases. “He didn’t even blink when I told him I don’t drink and ordered a Shirley Temple.”

Aelin laughs. “Your ordered a Shirley Temple on a date?”

Elide blushes, “they look fancier than a soda.”

That was a lie. Elide just loved everything cherry flavored.

“Enough about me,” Aelin startled as the tiny girl turned on her. “Tell me how your night went!” Elide beamed. “You went to the rodeo with Aedion, right?”

She gasps as the realization strikes her. “Did you see Lorcan ride? I haven’t even seen him compete, yet! I’m so jealous.”

“Yeah, I saw him.” Aelin answers vaguely, hoping Elide would take the vague answer and carry on.

“He told me he came in second last night.” Elide frowns. “He was really unhappy about it, and I told him that second was great. I don’t think he believed me. Lorcan is such a perfectionist.”

Yeah. So perfect he does drugs with his crappy, friends in a dimly lit bar. Aelin shoves a book onto the shelf a little too aggressively.

“I wish he wasn’t so hard on himself. It’s such a competitive sport, though. His buddies ride as well, and I think that makes it worse. He wants to impress them.”

Aelin looks back, realizing she’d stacked over half the shelf by herself, and sees Elide sitting on the floor behind her. She had a far off look on her face, and her chin was rested on one knee while her prosthetic leg was stretched in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, she tries to swallow back the annoyance creeping up on her. “Elide.”

“It’s just, a lot of peer pressure you know?” Elide continues talking as if she hasn’t heard her. “Despite all of that and the drama, he still makes time for me. It’s honestly really sweet and-“

“Elide,” Aelin tries to catch her attention gently.

“I still haven’t met his friends yet. I’m not sure if it’s just too soon for that, but his best friend Rowan is coming over tomorrow and-“

“Elide,” Aelin bites our sharply, cutting the girl off mid sentence. “I’m glad to hear you are happy, and that your boyfriend gives a shit but can you please help me do the shelving like I pay you to do?”

Guilt. Instantaneous guilt as the younger girl wilts like a flower under a gale-force wind. “Sorry, Lin.” Elide whispers and scurries away, her cheeks reddening.

Shit. Aelin taps her head against the shelf in front of her. She felt like a piece of shit.

Aelin has been dealing with her issues for years, going to therapist after therapist, but she was still prone to bouts of anger and depression. She had it mostly under control, but sometimes it slipped from her. Being tired and skipping lunch hadn’t helped.

As Yrene always told her- “The first step in better mental health is taking care of your body” Something Aelin had never been good about.

Elide hadn’t deserved her ire, she would have to figure out a way to make it up to her. Aelin sighs in resignation, already knowing what she’d have to do.

Aelin finishes the shelves first, figuring Elide would need a minute to compose herself. Her phone dings with the reply to her text message.

Lysandra- Tonight at 6:00

“Elide?” she searches around the shop for her and finds her sitting behind the computer at the front desk.

“Yeah?” Elide replies, her voice is a little gravely and she refuses to meet Aelin’s eyes.

Aelin slinks behind the desk and wraps an arm around Elide’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I wasn’t kind.” She wouldn’t lie, she felt a bit like a toddler having to apologize for her short temper. A little embarrassment was better than an unhappy friend.

“It’s fine, Lin. I know I’m a little much to handle,” Elide still doesn’t look at her.

“No, it’s not okay, but I’m going to make it up to you,” Aelin smiles even if inside she’s cringing.

“Yeah?” Elide finally looks her in the eye, curiosity sparkling there.

“I texted Lys about the party she’s having tonight,” Aelin starts and Elide’s grow wide. “Would you want to go with me?”

“To a party? You hate parties,” she questions but Elide is already thrumming with excitement.

Aelin grabs Elide’s hand and squeezes. She doesn’t hate parties. Contrary, Aelin loves night out a little too much. That was her downfall. Now she was wary of them, but it didn’t mean she hated them.

“Really? You will go?” Elide smiles and stands up. “I’m so excited. Wow. Okay. I’ll go do with you.”

“Great, we can walk over together at five-thirty?” They lived the in the same apartment complex, it was easy for them to meet up and go places after work.

Elide is grinning ear to ear now as she hustles to finish up her chores for the day. “Sounds great. I’m so excited!”

Aelin is feeling a little upbeat herself. Even if parties weren’t really her scene anymore, attending would be fun. Elide being there would keep her from getting into any trouble, so what’s the harm?

She should know that’s the question that always goes before the fall.

~~~

Aeljn was feeling good.

She pulled on her slinky, green-velvet dress, and braided her hair into a crown like Aunt Marion used to do for her. Dressing up felt like armor to Aelin and she was a warrior who would turn heads tonight.

Elide has also done a great job dressing up. Billowing black pants and a silver singlet. She didn’t enjoy dressing up as much as Aelin, being the center of attention made her anxious, but she didn’t give herself enough credit. Elide was beautiful and Aelin would make sure her friend new that this evening.

Lysandra lived in a loft in downtown Rifthold. She was old money and Aelin was a frequent of her outrageous parties in highschool. Some of her most iconic teenage memories happened in Lysandra’s family home.

Not her proudest, but memorable for sure.

It was already in full swing when they arrived. Music played over Bluetooth speakers, various concoctions were passed around in red cups and people mingles and moved against one another in every open space.

Elide looked a little overwhelmed, but Aelin smiled at her reassuringly.

“Lin!” Lysandra appears from the crowd like a leopard from a jungle. She filings her arms around Aelin’s neck and kisses her cheek. “I’m so glad you are here!”

“It’s been too long since I’ve been to one of your get together,” Aelin wrapped her arms tightly around Lysandra.

“This is my friend Elide,” she gestures to the girl standing stiffly behind her. “Elide this is one of my oldest friends Lysandra. Possibly my soon to be sister-in-law.”

Aelin throws and wink at Lys who immediately retaliates with a pinch to her arm. “I love you and Aedion but I’m too young for that,” she scolds.

“Sure you are,” Aelin teases sliding back to Elide’s side and wrapping a comforting arm around her waist. “Those two are stupid in love don’t let her fool you,” she wiggles her fingers and Elide laughs.

“Stay right here, I’ll go get us some drinks.” Lysandra smiles and disappears into the crowd.

Almost as soon as she’s gone, there’s a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, absolute dread fills her gut. “I swear you all are stalking me,” Aelin moans.

Rowan Whitethorn is standing behind them, drink in hand and a scowl on his face. “What do you mean? This is the first time I’ve seen you since you ran out on me.” There’s an edge in his voice and Aelin knows he’s there for trouble. “I just thought I’d say hello and ask what the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Aelin is indignant. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Um,” Elide stammers. “Should I give you two space?”

“I really liked you, and you stormed out on me.” Rowan growls lowly. “I don’t know what I did wrong? You humiliated me in front of my friends.”

Aelin throws her head back and laughs. A sense of satisfaction brews in her chest when she sees the forest fire beginning in his eyes. “I embarrassed you? Your friends treated me like shit.” She hisses between her teeth.

Rowan’s frown deepens into a near snarl, “I’m not responsible for what those idiots say.”

“You-“ she jabs a finger into his chest. “Stood bye and let them say it, that makes you implicit. If you respected me in the slightest my comfort and dignity would have mattered to you.”

Aelin makes to jab him again but his hand catches her wrist and she can’t control the flinch.

His eyes widen, but a body appears in between them. Elide Lochan stands like a solider in front of the man who is twice her size. “You don’t touch her.”

Rowan backed off a step, his voice raising. “She was prodding me-“ he stops himself and takes a breath, a crease forming in his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’ll back off.”

“What’s going on over here?” Lysandra’s voice cuts through the noise of the party. She doesn’t look happy.

“He put his hands on her,” Elide hisses and Rowan’s eyes go from anger to shock.

He holds up his hands and looks to Lysandra. “I didn’t. I swear.”

Lysandra stands next to Elide forming a wall between him and Aelin. As one of the few people who knew about Aelin’s drama of the last couple of years, the look of this situation boiled her blood.

“Lys, he didn’t-“ Aelin tries to douse the scene they were about to create.

Lysandra gives her a look that makes Aelin quiet. “I love you Lin, but I don’t trust your excuses.”

That hurt. Her heart feels like it was wrung in her chest. Aelin crosses her arms in front of her, suddenly feeling withdrawn from the situation.

Elide hasn’t broken her stare from Rowan. “You should probably leave.”

“What?” He flounders looking equal parts shocked and horrified. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare her. We know each other.”

“I agree,” Lysandra tilts her chin to the door. “You aren’t welcome here any longer.”

Rowan looks at her for help, and she feels bad for him. Aelin knows she touched him first, but Lysandra’s comment was like a cold knife in her side and she was still bleeding. She didn’t know what to do or say.

“Rowan? What’s going on?” Lorcan appears behind Rowan, placing a hand on his shoulder. Aelin knows the moment he sees Elide standing in front of her, because his face deflated.

“You know him?” Elide’s voice is cold.

Lorcan, a beast of a male, cowers in front of little Elide. His mouth gapes like a fish. He can’t deny her question, but affirming it seemed worse. “Ellie,” her name comes out strangled.

“These are your friends, Lorcan? The people you seem to be keeping me from?” Elide darkens further as she looks at Rowan. “I guess I understand why.”

“Both of you can leave, then.” Lysandra smiles maliciously.

“I’m sorry, Aelin.” Rowan rubs both of his hands across his face then through his hair. “Damn it, I didn’t mean for this to go like it did. I wanted to apologize.” He says mostly to himself.

“Elide. He’s my friend. I don’t know what’s going on-“ Lorcan scrambles to cover his ass, but Elide isn’t having it.

“This is Lysandra’s house.” Elide says so calmly it would have been kinder if she yelled. “She asked you to leave.”

Lorcan looks at her, absolutely fuming and Aelin knows he’s beyond pissed. “I don’t know what this lying bitch-“

A slap broke like thunder between them.

Lorcan holds his cheek as Aelin gapes at Elide in shock. There are no tears to be seen in the younger girls expression. Her shoulders are trembling, not with fear but anger.

“Let’s go.” Rowan chokes out. He grabs Lorcan’s shoulder and pulls him away from the trio of women.

Lysandra watches them like a predator until they clear her front door. Her tense shoulders only relax when they leave. She releases a breath and looks at Elide.

“You are hella cool, Ellie. You deserve something better than that piss-poor beer I brought.” She nods to the solo cups that had been abandoned on the table. “I’ve got better shit in my room. Let’s go.”

Elide looks follows Lysandra with an elated look on her face. Aelin smiles dimly, she could see them becoming fast friends. Elide would be a good addition to the group.

They pushed through the crowd, and up the stairs. Aelin wasn’t in the partying mood anymore, which was disappointing. She’d been looking forward to it, and so had Elide.

Shaking her head, Aelin decides she will take a small reprieve in Lysandra’s room then suggest they go back downstairs. Elide was only comfortable coming to a party because she was going to be with her. Now not only was her night ruined, but she was on the outs with Lorcan because of her.

The very least she could do was make sure the night ended on a good note for Elide. Lysandra would be totally willing to help Aelin get her to let loose.

When they reach the bedroom Lysandra stops the outside the door. “You can go in, Ellie. I need to talk to Aelin for just a second.”

Elide nods happily and shuffles inside.

“Lys,” Aelin starts before Lysandra can. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“You promised me before,” her voice is hard but not unloving. “Who was that Aelin?”

She doesn’t miss the use of her full name. “Just some guy I went out for drinks with one time. I honestly don’t even know him.” Aelin assures.

“Has he been bothering you? If he is I will castrate him and feed his own-“ Aelin covers her ears.

“No, no. We just bumped into each other, it was a misunderstanding,” Aelin swears. “Honestly, you didn’t need to kick him out.”

“Yes,” Lysandra hisses. “I did. You aren’t going through that again, Aelin. Not over my dead body.”

“I appreciate that you love me so much,” Aelin whispers, not wanting Elide to pick up on their conversation. “But I can take care of myself. I’m not broken, Lys. Just hurt.”

Lysandra groans sadly, her dark lashes fan against her cheeks as if she’s fighting tears back. Suddenly Lys is hugging her again, and Aelin sinks into her embrace like always.

“I know you aren’t broken. I’m sorry that I’m so fussy.” Aelin let’s her tuck itself into Lys shoulder, aware that she was a safe person to be open with.

After a moment they pull apart. “Please. Just be careful,” Lysandra pleads.

“Of course,” Aelin promises. “Thank you for always having my back.”

“Never again,” Lysandra reiterates, reaching out to grab her hand.

“Never again.” Aeljn squeezes it.

“Lysandra! Your cat is so cute!” Elide coos from behind the door. The tension is broken and the two of them look at the other and laugh.

“Let’s go.” Aelin says, and Lysandra holds the door for the both of them.

Never again would Aelin submit to a cruel man’s will.

Not even for a man like Rowan Whitethorn.

Part Two of the birthday mass update! Thank you guys so much for reading 💚

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[flowerypeaches]

Dealmaker

Trembling hands caressed a cold face.

“Oh, Sidekick.” Hero said, tears pricking their eyes. “What happened?”

For the past couple months, Sidekick had been begging Hero nonstop to be assigned solo patrols. Hero eventually gave in, if only to stop their incessant pestering, and gave Sidekick a small neighbourhood to start off with. They had been doing so well, that Hero eventually gave them larger and larger areas to watch over. Everything had been going fine. Until today.

When Sidekick failed to check in, Hero immediately knew something was wrong. They ran out into the night, looking in every side street and roof for information.

It was after four grueling hours that Hero found Sidekick, dead in an alley and cold to the touch.

They didn’t believe their eyes, but when Hero got close enough to see the familiar freckles that peppered Sidekick's skin, they broke down. Hero knelt over Sidekick, tears dripping down their chin. Guilt clutching their chest with an iron grip. If only they said no when Sidekick asked for solo patrols, or kept them in the smaller areas, or decided to join them for the night, instead of taking a break.

Mind full of what-ifs, Hero didn’t notice the sudden drop in temperature.

“Looks like they’ve seen better days.”

Hero shot up, startled out of their grief, and hastily rubbed away their tears.

“W-who’s there?”

They searched the damp walls and cracked pavement of the alley, illuminated only by the yellow street lamps, for the owner of the voice.

But no one was there.

Did they imagine it?

A cold laugh bounced off the walls.

Hero spun, fists raised. Eyes darting around, they found a figure hidden in the alley’s deep shadows. 

“I see you. Come out!” Hero thought they saw a glint of red. A trick of the light, surely.

The figure didn’t move.

There was only one reason why someone would stick around a corpse without calling for help.

“Did you do this? Did you kill Sidekick?” Hero said, unable to hide the tremble in their voice.

The figure finally spoke. “Afraid not, Hero. The one responsible would be your darling Villain.”

Hero narrowed their eyes. Villain was a lot of things, but murderer wasn’t one of them. It was one of the few reasons why Hero let Sidekick patrol alone; Villain’s territory was safer than most crime-riddled areas. Supposed to be.

They shook their head, “You’re wrong, Villain would never kill Sidekick.”

“Not intentionally, no.” The figure moved, still lingering in the shadows, and Hero could see that the figure was incredibly tall. As if they could reach out and grab Hero from where they stood. “But when one's nemesis has the strength to lift cars, it's easy to forget that not everyone can handle the same amount of power. With how often you two fight, I’m surprised this hasn’t happened sooner.”

The hairs on Hero’s neck stood on end. This person, whoever they were, was making it up. They had to be. “You’re lying. I don’t know why, but you are. Why else would you wait around a-a…” Hero spared a glance at Sidekick. “Why else would you stay here?”

“To find you.”

Hero stepped back, heart pounding. Their instincts told them to run, to get as far away as fast as possible. But running meant leaving Sidekick, and Hero wouldn’t forgive themself if they did. Couldn’t.

The figure didn’t elaborate. Gesturing to Sidekick, instead. “Do you think any run-of-the-mill villain could inflict wounds like that?”

If the figure wanted to kill them, they would have done it while Hero’s back was to them. They took a deep breath, and knelt back down to Sidekick, still facing the figure, just in case. Hero turned their gaze down, eyeing the mess of cuts and bruises that was Sidekick’s torso. Analyzing their injuries for evidence, until...

Hero grit their teeth.

They’d recognize those stupid miniscule marks anywhere. After all, their own body was covered in them. Little scars that came from a direct hit of Villain’s power.

Mock sympathy dripped from the figure’s voice like oil slick. “And when your dear old Villain realized what they’d done, they ran.”

“T-they wouldn’t.”

“Why not? They’re a villain. Not taking responsibility is in their nature.”

They didn’t argue.

“Do you think Villain would tell you the truth? If you confronted them?” Hero could hear the smile in the figure's voice. “No, knowing them, they’d do everything in their power to convince you otherwise. That those unmistakable marks were from someone else. That they were being set up. 

“And, when they finally realize it’s hopeless, they’d beg you for forgiveness. Maybe even offering to turn themself in. All because they couldn’t bear to lose you, their darling nemesis who makes them feel whole. They have such a big soft spot for you, it’s sickening.”

Hero certainly felt sick. Their tears returned, blurring the world around them. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think we can help each other.”

“I don’t want revenge.” Hero said, though there was no conviction in their words.

“No, but I can bring Sidekick back.”

Hero’s head snapped up, ready to tell them off, when the figure walked out of the darkness.

Street lamps illuminated something that could only be described as otherworldly. Wisps of smoke trailed behind them like coattails. Piercing eyes that burned like fire. They were a walking shadow, consuming any light that got too close.

Hero froze. “You're not, you can’t, t-this isn’t real.”

The figure, creature, stalked closer, until they were looming over Hero. They could now see just how tall they truly were. Like someone grabbed their head and feet and pulled and pulled. Stretched too thin and too tall and too close. Hero fought the urge to flee.

They reached down and grabbed Hero's jaw with their massive hands, forcing Hero to their feet. “I'm as real as your friend’s corpse on the ground.” Flecks of ash flew around them, the smell of smoke filled the air.

“What are you?”

They sighed. “Demon has such nasty connotations. But, I suppose that would be the closest definition you humans understand.”

Hero winced as an ember landed on their skin. 

“No matter, I have something to offer, and you have something I desire.” Hero felt the demon’s nails dig into their cheeks as they were forced to their tiptoes. “What do you say, Hero? Care to make a deal?”

They stared into the demon’s eyes, seeing visions of hellfire. Whispers of agony in their ear. Brimstone choking their lungs. Pain and suffering swallowing them whole.

Hero pulled away, falling to their knees and gasping for air. Clutching the ground in an effort to anchor themself to reality.

“I’m not selling my soul to a demon.” Hero said.

The demon bent down, and Hero flinched, expecting to be forced to look in their eyes again.

“Not even to save your precious Sidekick?”

Hero shook their head, guilt gnawing at their insides.

The demon hummed. “And here I thought you cared for them.”

“I do care! It’s just, I just,” Hero looked at the body, then to the demon. “I don’t want to, to…”

“Go to hell?” They offered.

Hero nodded.

They were a coward. A real hero would sacrifice themself in a heartbeat, but Hero couldn’t even consider it for a second. They weren’t there to protect Sidekick, and now they were letting an opportunity to save them slip away.

But what they saw in the demon’s eyes…

Hero shuddered.

It scared them more than any villain ever did.

If they sold their soul, Hero knew their pain would be the fuel to light the flames.

Coward.

“You're in luck, Hero. For it's not your soul I desire.”

Hero’s brows knit together. They looked up hesitantly, avoiding the demon’s eyes. “Then… what do you desire?”

The smoke parted in an approximation of a smile. “A body.”

“A body?”

They nodded. “It takes a lot of energy to maintain a corporeal form on earth. Possessing a body would lessen that burden greatly.”

“W-why?”

They shrugged. “A demon needs to eat.”

This was a chance of a lifetime. Saving Sidekick without being condemned to eternal damnation. What a deal!

Letting a demon possess their body, though. Hero didn’t know what that entailed. Would it hurt? Could they be killed while the demon was possessing them? If the demon killed someone, by making deals or otherwise, would it be their fault?

As if reading their mind—maybe they can—the demon spoke. “You wont notice a thing; It will be as if you’re in a deep sleep. My visits won’t take long either, so there will still be time for you to play hero. I’ll even make sure not to mess with your civilian life. Aren’t I considerate?”

“And my hero life?”

The demon huffed, blowing smoke into Hero’s face. “I won't ruin your reputation, but I can’t guarantee people won't see me. Oh! Maybe I should get my own costume, wouldn’t that be fun?”

Hero didn’t respond.

“Unless you’d prefer me to use your civilian identity?”

“No! I-I mean, please. Please use this identity. Or make another one. Please.” Hero cringed at their pleading, but the demon seemed satisfied.

“So it's settled.” Sparks flew from the demon as they clapped their hands together, causing Hero to jump. “I give Sidekick a second chance at life, and you give me your body to possess whenever I desire, withstanding I give you time to live your silly little human life, unaffected.”

Hero looked at Sidekick. Their face tinged grey, resembling wax more than skin. If they didn’t do this… did they really deserve to be called a hero?

They swallowed.

No. They were doing this. No turning back.

Hero looked up, staring directly into the flames. “Deal.”

The demon smiled, and took Hero’s face into their terrifying hands. “Pleasure doing business.” They leaned in, and, for a moment, Hero expected a kiss.

Instead, the shadow that made up the demon dissipated, rushing into their nose and mouth, replacing the air in their lungs. Hero choked as the smoke invaded their body, spots dotting their vision. They reached out, trying to hold onto something, anything, but only found air. The essence of the demon flowed through them, filling up their entire being. They couldn’t move, couldn’t cry out in fear. All Hero could do was wait.

They opened their eyes, taking long and heavy breaths. It was done. Hero leaned back, trying to calm down.

They hoped they wouldn’t regret this.

A loud gasp followed by a series of coughs made Hero lurch upright. They scrambled towards the noise, almost falling over as they reached Sidekick.

“Sidekick? You’re alive. You’re alive!” Hero took Sidekick into their arms, holding on tight. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“H-hero? What happened?” Sidekick said, eyes unfocused.

“You were out on patrol. You didn’t check in, and I got worried.” Hero held onto Sidekick as if they’d disappear the moment they let go. “It took me so long to find you, I was so scared.”

“I saw Villain.” Sidekick looked up. “I thought I could take them by myself, b-but I couldn’t. I’m so stupid, I should have called you as soon as I saw them.”

Hero squeezed their shoulder. “You’re not stupid. I should’ve realized you weren’t ready for solo patrol. Or kept you in the smaller areas, at the very least.”

Sidekick shook their head. “It’s not your fault. I kept on bugging you, and I made the choice to fight Villain alone.”

Hero pressed Sidekick’s forehead against their own. This was real. They were alive. Any doubts Hero had vanished the moment the colour in Sidekick’s cheeks returned. They would die before they saw the waxy, greyed skin again.

A slight smile appeared on Sidekick’s face, “Where did you look for me, anyway? A chimney? Your face is covered in soot.”

“Something like that.” Hero laughed halfheartedly, trying to hide their grimace.

Sidekick must have noticed, because they took Hero’s hands in their own. “I’m sorry.”

Hero rested their chin on Sidekick’s head, “Promise you’ll call for backup next time?”

“I promise. I love you.”

A trail of smoke left their lips. “I love you, too.”

[warriorlid14]

16. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much before.” 

Ron talking to Ginny about Hermione

Loved how you showed the sibling love between them

Thank you! Enjoy my humble offering:

---

He waited until he was sure that she was in a deep slumber, and then waited half an hour more, and then finally he couldn’t ignore the pressure in his bladder, and he carefully and reluctantly removed himself from Hermione’s embrace, and practically sprinted down the stairs and to the loo.

It was when he walked out that he noticed Ginny sitting down at the dining table, a tea cup in front of her and a faraway look on her face. He had assumed she had gone to his room, and had been too preoccupied with comforting Hermione through her nightmare to make any teasing comments about not climbing into Harry’s bed.

“Hey,” he said, “what are you doing here?”

She didn’t even look startled at the sound of his voice, which he expected due to how much she appeared to be concentrated in the space in front of her. He opened his mouth to call for her again, but then she glanced at him and said, “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, and then instantly cringed at his question. They had buried their older brother less than two weeks ago. None of them were okay. But still, he felt the familiar churn in his stomach that he had been feeling since- well, maybe forever, really. But mostly since that damned locket. And Malfoy Manor, and Harry dying, and Fred. That sick feeling of not doing enough of not being enough, and- he took a deep breath. His self-doubt and guilt wouldn’t help anyone.

Ginny didn’t answer, though, and shrugged. Instead, she said, “There’s some tea in the kettle, if you want.”

He glanced up towards the stairs, towards Ginny’s room where Hermione didn’t need him at the moment, but his sister might, so he grabbed a tea cup and served himself some tea and sat next to her. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

Maybe a few years ago, they would have been able to talk about it. They had been inseparable once. But then Hogwarts happened, and he befriended Harry and Hermione. And Ginny made her own friends. And it wasn’t like they weren’t close anymore or that they didn’t talk. But they weren’t each other’s favorite person in the world, anymore, not like when they were kids. They weren’t the person they ran off to tell each other’s secrets. It was a strange sort of loss.

But then again, he hadn’t talked to Harry or Hermione, either, no matter how much they had shared already. Some things were just too painful to talk about, he supposed.

“How is she?” Ginny asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He hesitated, then said, “She’s asleep.” She nodded, knowing that it wasn’t a “she’s okay.”

And they weren’t each other’s favorite people in the world anymore, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be close anymore, and so without really thinking about it, he found himself saying, “She’s pulling away from me. She doesn’t- well, you saw. I didn’t even know she had started taking sleeping draught.”

And he still didn’t know how he had missed it. Well- he did. There had been funeral preparations, and coaxing his mother out of the bedroom, and convincing George to eat, and trying to get a word out of his father, and watching Harry for any signs of an inevitable explosion of emotions, and making sure that there was always warm food in the home. He didn’t think he had been neglecting her. It had been clear immediately after the battle that they were together, and he had to remind her to eat as well every once in a while, and he had made sure to spend time together and insisted that she could come to him for anything. And he had assumed that her waking up later and being more tired had just been the effect of the horrors that they had endured finally catching up to her now that the war was over. So he had made it his goal to get her to smile. He just didn’t know- He though she would tell him-

“She just doesn’t want to worry you,” Ginny said, interrupting his thoughts. “Doesn’t want to be a burden, what with everything going on.”

“She could never be a burden,” he said hotly.

She actually laughed at that, but there was no humor behind it. “Yeah. You’re telling me.”

He raised an eyebrow at her sudden shift in mood. “Harry?”

“He just pretends that he’s perfectly fine!” she hissed, and even though her tone was angry, he could tell that there was also fear and concern behind it. “Like we didn’t just fight a war or like he didn’t just die.”

“He’s like that,” Ron said quietly. “Just give it time. He’ll talk to you.”

She seemed to deflate. “Will he, though?” She shot a glance at him, then, looking almost guilty. “Look, I’m not- I’m not jealous of you or anything. You’re his best friend. I get that. It’s just-” she sighed “-well, the three of you have gone through everything together. It’s always been like that. And I don’t know if he’ll ever let me in like that or-” She trailed off, struggling for words. “It’s not like I want him to choose or anything like that. It’s just-”

“I get it,” he said, giving her a weak smile. “But he’s crazy about you, Gin. Has been for a long time.”

She sighed, and after a moment, said, “Yeah, I know.” She returned his weak smile. “But does he trust me, though?”

“Of course,” he said sincerely. “He doesn’t open up easily. But I’ve never seen him happier than when he was with you.” And that was true. That fact was the only thing that had kept his teasing of them at the minimum. Mostly. He added, “And if he doesn’t, maybe try getting him a few shots of firewhisky. That might be the only thing to get him to admit he has emotions.”

She laughed then, and said, “At least Hermione’s better in that department.”

“That’s true.” Then he grinned. “Hermione never hides when she’s angry at me.”

They both laughed, and set in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he suddenly blurted out, “I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much before.” He was surprised to find he didn’t immediately blush at that.

And Ginny didn’t tease him like he almost expected. Instead she said, “Terrifying, isn’t it?” She grinned at him. “Those two… they’ll really be the death of us, won’t they?”

He snorted, and simultaneously, they both clinked their tea cups against each other in agreement.

---

Thanks for the ask!

[rekrappeter]

Room for One || s.r

pairing: Spencer Reid x SSA!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angsty | post!prison reid | lmk if i forget anything

summary: your decisions affected your friendship with spencer but you never realised how serious it was until now

a/n: another spencer reid fic but y’know i can’t help it and i’m thirsty af for him. any requests, send them my way  ♡ ♡

masterlist ||

“And that leaves Y/L/N and Reid,” Your unit chief instructed, handing the two of you a key each for the same room. Smiling up at the doctor that stood beside you, you wished that he tried his best to hide his annoyance at being paired with you. Spencer stalked away towards the elevator, Emily’s eyes following his figure. “Don’t worry about him, he’s just exhausted.” 

“You and I both know that’s a lie,” You exhaled, picking up your duffel bag from the floor and walked with the brunette to catch up with the rest of the team. “He’s still pissed at me for not visiting him.” 

“Well, tonight is the night to sort out your differences.” Looking at Emily, your eyes narrowed at the smirk on her face. 

“You sly-” She shushed you, just in time to enter the elevator with the other members of your team. The case that you’re currently working on is a tiring one, it’s been four days since you landed in Atlanta and there hasn’t been in any progress to determining a suspect; it was Rossi’s idea to turn in for the night, to start fresh in the morning and hopefully close the case. You didn’t leave the precinct until two in the morning, hence the exhausted bodies leaning against the wall of the enclosed space. 

After bidding sweet dreams to the team, you followed Spencer into your allocated room. You were surprised he held the door open for you, you were used to getting the cold shoulder from him since you’ve returned from time off. Spencer has always been passive-aggressive, he was a kind man but when he was wronged by you in some way, you’d know that it affected him and the way he was around you. 

You knew what you did to him was unforgivable. He was one of your closest friends in the BAU and when he was locked up in prison, you refused to go see him, despite him begging the team to ask you to come in. You couldn’t bear to see him in pain, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. No matter how many times you were sitting in your car outside the prison. 

“Which one do you want, Spence?” You asked, you kept your voice low and you feared that he’d reject your question, again. 

“I’ll take the one by the door,” Spencer replied, he avoided looking at you as usual. You got used to his behavior, he would find something more interesting to avert his gaze to whenever you walked into the room or spoke around the round table. You wished it wasn’t just you that he felt like this with but it was, he was back to normal with everyone else. 

Sharing a room with Spencer was not new in the long run. Back when you first joined the BAU, he was the one you volunteered to stay with because you kept comfortable with him and you enjoyed the late-night conversations that you shared. Thinking back on conversations, you couldn’t believe some things that you disclosed to him but it was the late-night delirium that would set in. He was never judgemental, and he always listened, something you were grateful for. 

“Do you want the shower first?” You questioned again, cringing when Spencer exhaled a little too loudly for your liking. He was annoyed but these were questions that you had to ask. 

“No, you go ahead.” He mumbled, brushing his long hair out of his face. Lifting your bag on your bed, you took out your necessities. Why would Emily even want to put you and Reid in a room together? The atmosphere was tense, you were afraid to breathe in case he turned around to lecture you about breathing too loud or uneven. Or maybe you would rather he actually gave you time of day and talk to you. 

You tiptoed around him and made your way to the bathroom, locking the door behind you and let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. When you returned, you were surprised to see the lights were switched off and Spencer was already asleep in his own bed. It was hard to make out the route to your bed, and you grimaced when you banged your toe into the chair you didn’t know was there. You let out a string of profanities, biting down on your hand to suppress the pain. 

“Do you mind? I’m trying to sleep.” Spencer mumbled, twisting in his bed. 

“I-I’m sorry…” You whispered back, not in any mood to argue with him. You quietly made the way to your single bed, falling under the covers in a split second but you couldn’t sleep. Not with Spencer in the bed less than two meters away from you. The room was eerily quiet, barely being interrupted with deeps breaths and the darkness was black around you until you heard Spencer move, and his bedside lamp switched on suddenly. 

“Why didn’t you come to see me?” Reid asked, laying on his back with his arm tucked behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling, knowing that you were looking at him over the locker that separated your beds. You were laying on your side, eyes boring into his temple. 

“You want to talk about this now?” You whispered back, feeling your chest getting heavy. 

Spencer sighed, shaking his head. “Not really, but Emily told me that I had to become civil with you.” You sucked in your bottom lip; guilt, and rejection washing over your body. Your eyes studied his face from the side, he was exhausted and the black circles beneath his dreamy orbs were more evident than before. The stubble he grew out made him look serious and intimidating, but you knew deep down, he was still somewhat the sweet Spencer you used to know. Just more confident, which wasn’t a bad thing. 

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say,” You spoke after hesitating, you had tried to explain yourself to Spencer before but no excuse was good enough. 

“I just want the truth.” Spencer sighed, any hint of anger or annoyance vanished from his voice as he sat upon the edge of his bed, his eyes finally landing on your face. His elbows rested on his knees and he leaned forward slightly, waiting for you to answer. You lifted yourself on the bed, keeping your body hidden with the covers and you leaned your back up against the headboard. 

“The truth?” You swallowed, and he nodded not saying anything. His jaw was tense, his eyes hollow but they were gentle. “I couldn’t bring myself to go see you knowing there was nothing I could do to get you out of there.”

“That’s it?” Spencer asked, rolling his eyes. “I was dying in there and every team member came and went, except you. What made you so different? What made it so difficult for you to come see me?” His tone was fierce and you wanted to hide underneath your duvet. 

“I don’t know, Spencer! I didn’t want to have a permanent memory of you in prison imprinted in my mind, you were hurting and you didn’t deserve to be in there. I was angry and upset-”

“I was in prison!” Spencer erupted, standing from the bed. His covers dropped from his body, he wore a plain white t-shirt and plaid trousers. “You were angry? You were upset? What about me? I thought you cared about me, I thought we were friends and then when Emily told me you refused to come see me without any explanation, how do you think that affected me? I spent weeks in there thinking that you didn’t care about me, that-that the person I loved didn’t care about me.” His shoulders slouched, his breathing heavy as he got everything he needed to off his chest. He leaned against the wooden desk that was in the room, and your eyes looked up at him instantly. 

“Loved?” You whispered, climbing down the bed and standing in front of him. 

“Loved.” He repeated, his teeth clenched. “As in past tense.” 

“Spencer, I did care about you, I still do. I care about you so much,” You reached for his face but leaned away from your touch causing your heart to clench. “I couldn’t come see you because I loved you too, and I still do love you, Spence. It hurt too much thinking off you being trapped in there-” 

Before you could continue, Spencer grabbed your wrist and pushed you away gently. “I said I loved you, Y/N. The months spent thinking you didn’t care about me changed those feelings, I don’t love you anymore.” His words were like knives that were aimed straight at your chest, your heart being torn in two. The worst thing was he spoke every word while staring you in the eye without flinching. He stepped away from you, grabbing his overnight bag, and before you could say anything, he walked out of the room. 

He left you, just as you left him.

[completeotometrash]

Stressed Out (Ikesen Kenshin)

@nad-zeta asked: Hi hi love! Eeeeep! Its been a while since ive spammed ya box🥺🥺❤❤ hehehe! I see your requests are open so i just had to jump! Low key been feeling super down lately and crushed by all the work that needs to get done....... so here i am to ask for some fluff and bunnies to ease the soul❤❤❤❤❤ hehehe could i pretty please request a mc x kenshin comfort fic🥺🥺🥺 lol one where mc has been over working to the max and needs a little break❤❤😳🥺🥺 hehehe if ya need anymore detail or inspiration feel free to dm me😳😳☺☺

Love ya lots! Sending hugs!❤

___________

Ah, Zeta! I love seeing you in my askbox so much <3<3<3. You’re the cutest. I hope you are doing ok??? You better not work yourself too hard or I’ll come over there and suffocate you with my love. D: Or perhaps I will anyways, it’s quite tempting.

Anyways, this came much softer then I intended. But I must say, I’m quite happy with it ^^. Bunny boy fluff onw~!

Word count: 1.4/5k

TW: None

Reader has she/her pronouns

Tired.

Kenshin had noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the way she began tying up her hair more instead of combing it, not changing as often. He watched as the smile on her face changed to only a meek grin, how the light in her eyes seemed to crease. Her energy was draining on the daily, her bones seemingly heavy like weights by the way she walks. He looks outside, watching as the sun begins to descend from the horizon.

To tell the truth, she had not been feeling like herself lately. There was so much to do after she properly moved to Kasugama. She had become more well-known and offered to complete more sewing commissions. It seemed as if there was never any time, and if there was, it would quickly slip from her fingers. She would find herself not wanting to get out of bed in the mornings, let alone put on a fake smile for other’s pleasure. Her eyes skim across the velvety fabric in her hands, dropping it with a defeated grunt.

Setting her needle to the side, she rubs her forehead, dragging her hand down to rub her eyes. The weight of everything was beginning to crush her, it was suffocating. She was slowly losing the passion and inspiration she once felt when making clothing. Trying to find the fun in something when it becomes overwhelmingly urgent is nearly impossible.

She had not even noticed the sound of the door opening behind her, or the footsteps that followed. Shakily she inhales, head drooping downward. Her throat is dry, her hands began to shake from the tension in them. Everything had begun to crumble out of control.

When a strong pair of arms wrap around her shoulders, she gasps with surprise. Her heart races in her chest, threatening to explode. A familiar hand traces her arm gently, bringing her a slight sense of relief. Hot breath tickles the sensitive skin on her neck, lips pressing there.

“You need a break. The sun is coming down and you’ve been working since this morning.”

Kenshin’s voice is sultry, deep. It holds so much intensity that she almost melts into her chair. She wants to lean into his touch, let him take her away so that she never sees a needle again. But her actions differ from her thoughts. Straightening her posture, she cringes at an error she notices she made in her stitching. “I will later, I messed up here; the thread will be visible when wearing if I don’t fix it.”

She can feel his glare even without seeing him. His displeasure radiates off his body in an almost radioactive way. “The stitching can be done at another time, come with me.” His command makes her grimace.

“But it can’t… I promised that it would be done by tomorrow and they’re paying me for it. If I cancel now, what does that say about me as a person? I want them to buy my clothes more in the future, they are nice people. I only need a few more hours and I’ll be finished.” She lifts her needle yet again, pulling out her previous stitches from before. She had previously decided that she wanted to start making money for herself instead of just lending some off of Kenshin is she would be living in the Sengoku.

Standing up straight himself, he turns and looks around the room. Multiple different kimonos hang around them, each made by her with high amounts of precision and skill. It had been so long since they’d been intimate with one another, this was the most he’d even talked to her all day. He kneels at her side, paying attention to her hands.

He of all people knows what it’s like to consume yourself with something. For many years, his entire life was revolved around war and training. Nothing else mattered to him. At the time it seemed ideal, but looking back at it, he knows it was all just pure misery. An unhealthy way he chose to cope.

The woman he loves needs help- it became clear to Kenshin that it was his turn to do so.

He takes her palm in his own, clasping it gently with his calloused fingers. He notices how red hers have become. He rubs them gently, and she doesn’t stop him. She feels as if she cannot, for, the relaxation that encases her body is too much to deny.

She’s missed his touch; it’s been far too long.

Without saying anything, he takes the things from her lap, setting it to the side. She cranes her neck around in circles, closing her eyes. In an instant, strong arms are reaching out from under her, lifting and pulling her against his chest. She feels a tinge of guilt for giving in, but the ever-growing exhaustion triumphs all. She wraps her arms around his neck loosely, letting him take her away.

He sets her down in a chair, and she can hear him begin to pour water into a tub. Her eyes open and watch. “Oh, Kenshin, you don’t have to-”

“I want to.”

Her eyes begin to water as he helps her slip out of her clothes. She gets in the tub, letting the water sooth her tense muscles. Kenshin joins her shortly after, pulling her close to him. They sit there in silence for a while, he washes her thoroughly, wiping away all the stress he can. His hands soothingly glide against her neck, back, and anywhere else he senses even the slightest discomfort.

And finally, she presses a kiss to her temple, resting his head against her shoulder. “What’s been going on?” His question is clear, voice deep as he whispers in her ear. She didn’t know how, but it was as if everything began pouring out of her in that moment. She could feel the hot tears stream down her cheeks, ones he wiped away with the gentlest of touches known to man as she began to explain everything.

She told him about the pressure she feels and the guilt that lingers when she thinks of disappointing everyone. How she’s started to become repulsed by the thought of sewing, and that waking up and getting out of bed has become a difficult task. At one point, her gentle cries became full on sobs, her body shaking more and more.

Kenshin only pulls her close, listening to everything she needed to say before speaking himself.

“I love you with all of my heart, ___. I’d die for you. I need you to know that you do not need to work yourself so hard to make yourself useful. You are perfect, and if anyone ever makes you feel any different, then I will need their name so that I can kill them.” The seriousness in his last statement makes her shiver.

He continues, “Please do not overwork yourself. We will get through this, together. I don’t want you being so stressed out. You deserve a break, and to never feel this way again.” Kenshin takes her chin in his hand, “I am amazed with how strong of a woman you are. You are so strong, for that matter, that you make me stronger. I want to do the same in return.”

 She is truly left speechless. Kenshin was never the verbally affectionate type- or the best with words at all, for that matter. And yet, here he is, speaking from his heart. She turns around properly, looking into his eyes. They seep with love and intensity, boring into her soul. He adores her with his entire being, as he always will. The look alone stirs a warm feeling in her chest.

His tender lips crash into her own, pressing the softest of kisses there. Her mind goes blank as she hugs him tightly.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Being lifted back to their shared bedroom, he lays her onto the futon, pushing her hair out of her face. She smiles, but this time, it’s genuine. Her mind and body feel light again, she feels as if she is unstoppable. Although, she becomes slightly confused when he walks to the other side of the room, opening the door to the garden.

Suddenly, a large flash of white, black, and brown fills her vision. Balls of fluff topple onto her freshly cleaned body. Little noses tickle her sensitive skin, a fit of giggles escaping her lips. All the small furry companions only seem to be spurred on by this, laying on top of her like a warm blanket.

Kenshin can only bring himself to smile at the scene, watching her burst into yet another hysterical fit of laughter. He decides in that moment that there is absolutely nothing better than seeing her smile, and regardless of what it would take, he would always seek to find it.

[beetlegoose01]

Frostbite Chapter 5- Toxic

AN: Happy Friday y’all! Here’s a longer chapter to celebrate! It’s a little intense, but I hope you enjoy.

~~~

Morning came sooner than any of the turtles anticipated, but especially to Donnie who was running on three hours of sleep. He counted on snoozing for another twenty minutes before training, but luck wasn't on his side. Even before his own carefully crafted alarm clock robot beeped, a loud voice woke him.

"Donnie!" came Michaelangelo bounding in with the energy of a golden retriever puppy. He bounced on the crooked bed with a loud creak of movement.

He groaned, still half asleep and bleary. "I'm sleeping, Mikey."

His baby blue eyes sparkled with mischief, prepared to annoy his older brother with his charming, but obnoxious grin. "No you're not. If you were asleep, how could you be talking to me?" He poked Donnie's head playfully. "Duh. I missed you, bro." He lay flat on his back, taking up most of the space and nearly smacking Don in the face. "It was like peanut butter without the jelly. Batman without Robin. Raph without Chompy! Elphaba without Gali-"

Rolling over, Donnie sat up begrudgingly. "I get the point. But you saw me last night." He stated obviously. "Remember?"

He scrunched his nose thoughtfully. "That was forever ago! And you were all cooped up in your lab for most of the time. We never hang anymore. Like, doing fun stuff."

"I guess you're right about that." He shrugged. "Sorry, I promise we'll hang out again sometime. Maybe tonight?"

"Dude, that's gregarious!" He looked immensely proud that he used a big word, even if it was used incorrectly.

"Uh...close."

"We can have pizza, play video games, ooh! Have a monster movie marathon!" He exclaimed, listing each activity on his stubby fingers. 

"That sounds great."

"Come on bro, I'm making everyone breakfast! So you better hurry before Raph hogs it all." Mikey leapt off the bed, springing into action. Most likely the kitchen. 

It took a good five minutes for Donatello to physically move out of bed. He wasn't one for sleeping in, but he was never opposed to it either. Whereas Leo was always awake in the early morning and Mikey was chipper no matter what. And Raph...well, Raph was Raph.

The kitchen was bustling with energy, at least from Mikey's angle. He was cheerfully serving up omelettes on plates, carrying the ones he couldn't hold on top of his head with the balance of a ninja. Mikey had a talent for making even the fouled stench of the sewers comfortable and hospitable with only his charm and sweet demeanor. Not to mention his excellent cooking skills.

"Omelette au fromage made especially for Master Splinter." He said, passing the first plate to the wise rat. "Fromage means cheese in Spanish!" He explained. "Or...one of those languages."

"Thank you, Michaelangelo."

"Looks delicious, Mikey." April complimented, still residing in the lair. It was an hour or so before school, so she enjoyed having breakfast with the brothers. It felt as though she was part of their little family.

"Eh, don't forget me! I'm starved." Raph complained, eagerly stabbing his food with a fork as he dug in. Smiling softly, he cut up neat pieces for Chompy Picasso.

"Where is Leonardo?" Splinter glanced around the kitchen, noticing the blue masked turtle seemed to be missing.

"I thought he was mediating still." Raph said, puzzled.

"No, he wasn't." said Mikey. "I checked." He looked innocently at his brothers and April. "I made a plate of food for him and everything! Now it's gonna get cold." He looked down glumly.

"Maybe he's still asleep?" April suggested.

The three youngest turtles shook their heads in unison.

"Leo's always the first one awake. It's weird that he isn't here." Raph lifted Chompy onto his shoulder. "Not that I mind. I like the peace and quiet and lack of Space Heroes references to start my morning right."

"Donatello, perhaps you should check your brother's room?" Splinter suggested, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "It is possible he is still resting or feeling unwell."

"Hai Sensei."

April, sensing his apprehensiveness, stood up and rested her hand on his shoulder. "It'll be alright. I promise."

Feeling comforted by her warm tone, Donnie nodded firmly, and left the kitchen with high hopes that Leo was just snoozing longer than usual.

Something wasn't right. Donatello knew this, deep down, despite his optimism. His worry was growing the closer he moved to Leo's room, silently praying that everything would be alright. Raising a shaking hand, he opened the door.

He breathed a sigh of relief. There Leo lay in a deep slumber, even snoring lightly. It felt awful to simply wake him up, but he didn't really have a choice.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead." He murmured, patting him. "Training time."

Unexpectedly Leo retracted his head into his shell, snoring even louder. This was beyond unusual- heck, even out of character. Leo was always extremely punctual and neat, refusing to be late for any training session.

"Why are you so tired?" Donnie wondered aloud. "We went to bed at the same time..."

Leo yawned, sluggishly moving forward out of his shell and stretching. "M' awake." He blinked. "Were you talking to me?" The blank expression that he gave was enough to cause further anxiety.

"Yeah? We have training."

His eyes widened. "Training! Oh, sewer apples!" He stumbled out of bed clumsily. "I'm here, I'm-" He yawned again. "Awake."

Donnie frowned, trying to analyze why Leo was so exhausted. Sure, they went to bed fairly late, but they've gone to bed later before and Leo hadn't been nearly as tired as he was now. But he wasn't about to start an argument either.

"Right."

Training was...awkward to say the least. Leonardo, who was usually extremely precise and swift with his movements, was now sloppy and uncoordinated. Everyone seemed to notice, but no one made a comment until Mikey had successfully pinned his oldest brother to the ground after a Barai.

"Booyakasha!" Mikey cheered. "I did it!"

"Yeah, because Leo barely put any effort into it." Raph said smugly, holding Donnie in a headlock.

"Yame!" Splinter commanded.

Dropping Donnie casually, Raphael glanced at their sensei with a bored expression on his face.

April, looking uncomfortable, placed her tessen back in her bag. "Class starts soon. I should probably get to school." Turning to Splinter, she smiled. "Arigato, Sensei. See ya later guys."

Splinter nodded. "Excellent work, April."

Leo groaned, rubbing his back. Humiliated, he bowed miserably.

"Leonardo, I think it would be best for you to rest."

"Arigato Sensei." He replied gratefully.

Raph crossed his arms. "That was pathetic. Even for you." He sneered. "Sorry we can't have you leadin' without your little nap time. Should I tuck you in too?"

He glared. But he didn't seem to have the energy to argue.

Donnie watched him leave, a pensive look on his face.

~•~

April found herself trudging to school, regretting leaving the lair after remembering she had a math quiz that she forgot to study for. Funny how she'd rather be in the sewers over a classroom.

A long time ago she craved a normal life, but now she loathed it.

Though there wasn't much normality in crushing on both a deranged hockey player and a mutated turtle. With the Kraang, mutants still running rampage- her life was destined to be abnormal.

She placed her bags away in her locker, sighing loudly. The bell was about to ring, and she hadn't seen any sign of Casey. She had been hoping to chat with him at least a little bit.

"Hey April!" A pretty girl with afro puffs came towards her, beaming.

"Hi Summer," She breathed, tension breaking at the sight of her friend. Well...not really friends. But they were friendly, and that was good enough. "How was your weekend?"

"Fine." Summer said. "Very productive. The yearbook committee is in full swing!" Glancing at her quizzically, she giggled. "Are you okay? You seem a bit distracted."

"Hm? Oh yeah, I'm fine. Listen...have you seen Casey?"

Summer, who was fairly popular and seemed to know everyone at the school thought for a moment. "Casey Jones? Senior?" After April nodded, she shook her head. "Nope, I don't think so. Sorry, I know you two are close."

April felt herself blush. "It's complicated."

"Don't I know it. Come on, it's time for homeroom."

Her mind wandered throughout the day, wondering how she could possibly concentrate on physics, when the growing uneasy feeling in her stomach.

It was all going to be alright.

Convincing Donnie was one thing. But convincing herself? A totally different problem.

~•~

Instead of going to sleep as he was instructed, Leo found himself topside again. The sun was setting a beautiful peach orange color over the skyline of smoke. Teenagers roamed the streets, and he swore he caught April with a group of girls chatting animatedly about something. He smiled, happy she was having fun and some resemblance of a normal, mutant free life.

He felt like a lousy leader. Hell, a lousy brother. Sneaking out like a kid, over some girl? A gorgeous mutant girl...but still. Without even telling his own brothers, let alone father where he was going.

There was that annoying feeling. Guilt. But...he was making the right choice. By getting his siblings involved, it would only lead to trouble.

"Leonardo..." That sultry voice cooed from behind.

"Nova." He gasped, releasing his katanas back in their holders.

"Sorry I'm late, my darling. My sleep schedule has been quite difficult."

He cringed.  "Don't call me that. But, it's okay."

She curled her muscular tail around his waist comfortably. "My apologies." She slithered beside him, golden eyes meeting his ocean blue ones. His heart rate increased.

Changing the subject, he smiled easily. "Have you reconsidered my offer?"

"I have. My hunger has been satisfied for now, but that won't last long."

"What have you been eating?" Leo looked at her wearily, afraid of the answer.

"Shh...that isn't important." Lifting his chin gently with her claws, he melted at the touch.

"If you say so." Leo hugged his knees, then grazed her gnarled scales, admiring their shimmering form. Her claws brushed against him casually and he winced.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's...okay. It didn't hurt. I promise."  They were faint. Surely no one would notice.

Relaxing, she nuzzled him. "Good."

Her eyes were big, wide. The moon reflecting in her pupils made him move closer. Then he stopped.

"This is a bad idea." He said, taking his hand back. "I barely know you. Maybe...you should meet my family first? Or get to know each other? This is happening so fast I-"

"Soon." She vowed. "I trust you though. I think."

"I think so too." He uttered, soft lips pressing against hers. If this was wrong, why did he feel so right? Why did he feel so shaky, yet so bubbly inside.

This was one of his worst decisions. Why wasn't he stopping? He didn't know her. He didn't-

"It's a pretty good bad idea, isn't it though?" She smirked, stealing another tender kiss.

All he had to do was say no. That he couldn't put his family in danger.

Just say no.

Don't make the same mistake.

But he didn't want to.

"God yes."

~•~

His head felt foggy and tired, he hadn't gotten any closer to convincing Nova to stay but...he was alright. Leo hadn't had a chance to retreat to his bedroom before he was cornered by his taller brother. He hid his grimace with a forced grin.

"Donnie, I don't have time for this. I've got..."

"This'll only take a minute."

"Alright. What's up?"

"Did you really have trouble sleeping last night?" He asked, then jumped to a stronger conclusion.  "Or...did you not go to sleep at all?"

"Don't be stupid, Don, of course I went to bed." Leo said. "I just..." He raised his left arm casually, and his younger brother once again caught the scars littering. Worse, they looked fresh.

"Your arms..."

Leo flinched away. "It's nothing."

His dark eyes narrowed.

"Donnie?"

"You're lying, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Leo brushed him off, but Donnie wasn't about to give up. He grabbed a hold of his forearm, pulling him back, though Leo was unaffected by the sudden jerk of movement.

"What happened to your arm?" Donnie demanded bluntly. "And tell me the truth this time."

"Donnie, I'm really tired. I...just want to meditate for a spell. We can talk later." He hadn't meant to sound dismissive, but his tired tone and increasing frustration made it seem that way.

"How much longer are you going to keep avoiding us all, Leonardo?" Donnie asked weakly.

Leo hastily moved his arm out of the way. The hostile motion made Donnie recoil.  "I'm not."

"You keep shutting us all out. We aren't naive. We know you're stressed, but we're a family. We can help.  Don't you see? First with Karai, now..."

"This is nothing like Karai." Leo blurted out. "Nova isn't like her." When Donnie looked confused, he elaborated. "That's her name. The mutant."

"She did that to you." He said, referring to his injured arms. The dots were slowly connecting.

Silence. "Not on purpose."

"You told me you were going back to bed. You promised! And you went out and tried to fight that dangerous mutant alone? Are you crazy?"

"I was trying to protect you!" Leo snapped, temper rising, though his voice still felt oddly robotic. "It wasn't done out of a whim. I didn't try to find her for fun. I was protecting you and the others."

"By lying to us? Your family?"

"Fighting her was not an option. I wanted to persuade her to join our side. She wasn't too dangerous, just scared. And I didn't lie, I did go to bed. Just not when you did."

"Do the others know?" He was mainly referring to Raph, who he knew would be as furious as he was. Maybe even more so. Mikey would have been heartbroken had he knew that Leo was going behind their backs.

"No."

"Why? We could have gone together." 

The thought of Donnie watching Leo and Nova's last encounter made him blush profusely in horror.

"If we had gone as a group, it would have ended horribly. I needed to talk to her alone. I think..." He paused. "I think she's starting to trust me." His cheeks felt suddenly hot. He didn't want his brother to know that he had been out again, though this time with no moral intentions involved. The less Donnie knew, the better.

"Trust you?" Donnie repeated in disbelief. "You barely know her."

"You barely know her."  Leo retorted.  "You haven't even seen her. What could you possibly know?"

Those careless words set Donnie's rage into flames. "I know that you're my brother and she's hurt you, quite obviously!" Furious tears filled his eyes. "If you just listened to me- if we had a chance to go as a team, maybe she would have joined us. Willingly!" He took a deep breath. "I know what it's like to care about someone." His mind brought up sweet April, then the smirk of Casey Jones. "But it's so risky to do this. You've got to think logically. You're the leader."

Regret was hidden in his deep blue eyes, but he masked it with a scowl. "I didn't ask for this burden, to be lectured. Logic- inventions, all your science-y bullshit won't help us now. So stay out of my way. I know what I'm doing." The tone of his voice, mixed with his expressions were jarring and cold. Unlike the older, wiser brother Donatello had grown to admire as a hero.

Stunned and hurt by the harsh tone, Donnie blinked, taking a step back, as if he feared him.

Leo's eyes widened, immediately realizing his mistake. "Wait, Donnie I didn't mean-"

"Fine."

"Please, just let me-"

But as his older brother had done so many times before, Donnie dismissed his desperate pleas, stormed by him as the words flooded out of his ear slits and away from his mind.

 ~•~

The second Donnie climbed out of the manhole cover, he realized he had no idea where he was going. He knew the city by heart, sure, but he was never one to go topside for emotional reasons. Usually he locked himself in his lab. Now...he didn't know what to do or where to go. Each direction felt wrong. And the increasing feeling of wrongness calculated by the feeling of dread equaled an equation he didn't quite understand.

"I don't even know where to go..." He groaned. "I'm such an idiot." Wiping his tears, adjusting his staff, he kept walking the unknown direction, hoping to find an answer.

School had to be out, since the stars were already dotting the sky. Maybe he could swing by April's...

No, she was still living at the lair. How could he have forgotten? And he doubted her aunt would be thrilled to see a six foot tall turtle standing in front of her. That would only leave...

He stopped, looking at the cluster of apartment complexes. It would be risky, but he couldn't imagine going anywhere else. As he climbed the fire escape with ease, he had already made his decision.

As much as he longed for April's hugs or comforting words, he knew Jones was the best bet. So he carefully used his bō to tap lightly on the window, while still remaining hidden.

It swung open, and there was Casey Jones. Handsome, cocky, hair even messier than usual without its iconic black and white bandana holding it in place. He seemed ready to go to bed as he was dressed in a tank top and pajama bottoms.

"The fuck?" He rubbed his eyes. "Donnie?"

"Hey there Jones." He mused, awkwardly rubbing his neck. "Is ...this a bad time?" He couldn't tell if Jones was simply tired or had been crying, since his eyes appeared too red and dusty.

"Nah, Riley's in bed." He confirmed. "Asleep."

"And your parents?"

Casey waved him off. "Hang on a sec," and he swung over the window to the metal fire escape. Climbing up the spare ladder casually, he glanced back at Donnie. "This place is more private." He was now perched on the roof, smirking. "You comin' or d'ya need an invitation?"

Donnie joined him, sitting on the ledge with their legs hanging over. "Is everything okay?"

"It's...fine, I guess." He chewed at his lip moodily. "Well not really. It's family bullshit."

He huffed a laugh. "Boy, do I know how that feels."

"I'm assuming you didn't just come here to chat. Something happen?"

Donnie nodded meekly.

"Hey, you don't need to tell me." Casey stared at his calloused hands. "I guess I can tell you what's been going on." He picked up a stone, flicking it across the roof. It fell loudly into a dumpster. Donnie winced. "My dad is a huge dick." He stated bluntly. "But it's complicated. Normally I'd talk with Raph about this but..."

"You don't have to..."

"Nah, it's chill. Here's the Cliff Notes version of it. Basically my dad decided to drop this major bomb on me n' Ri. That he proposed to Sara. His girlfriend." He made a vomit noise. "And I can't believe it."

"Is she not nice?" Donnie wondered.

"She's okay, I guess. No, but they haven't been dating that long and- I can't believe he decided to replace Riley's mom like that."

"Riley's mom? But you..."

"She's only my half sister. My real mom died forever ago. He was cheating on my mom with Riley's mom- Grace. He's a mess. It's all a mess."

"What happened to Grace?"

"Divorced her. Like I said, he's a dick." He looked back wearily. "Sorry, I know that was a lot. I'm not good at...dealing with my feelings but I shouldn't have dumped that on you with no warning."

"No, please don't apologize. I understand."

"Cool. So...your turn."

"My turn?"

"I just dramatically revealed my trauma. That shit doesn't come for free, yo. And I know you came here for a reason. So what is it? Because I think we're at that stage where we can talk about it. Whatever it is."

The purple masked turtle hesitated.

"There's only so many Electric Skullz albums we can talk about..."

Donnie took a deep breath, finally settling on revealing his troubles. "It was just an argument."

"With Raph?"

"No, Leo. He's been acting so strange lately. With the new mutant and everything. I think he likes her. As in, having feelings for her.  I swear, this is a Karai situation all over again." He frowned. "And then we started yelling and..." Head in his hands, he groaned. "It's troubling. He's been acting so distant and it's making me so ..."

Casey waited a moment for Donnie to find the word.

"Peeved."

"So, what you're saying is: it's all a mess."

Donnie laughed. "It sure is, Jones." Their shoulders bumped together. "Thanks for letting me vent."

"Hey, no worries. You let me rant, it's only fair. But I do know one thing for sure, families are complicated as fuck."

"Here here. But um, why did you bring me here again?" Donnie cocked his head to one side.

Casey stood up, hands on his hips. "Come on."

Donnie followed suit, raising a curious eyebrow. "And?"

"Start yelling."

"What?"

"Start. Yelling. It ain't rocket science. You're pissed off, I'm pissed off, so let it out! Go nuts!" 

"But it's night out."

"This is the city that never sleeps, genius. Look, I'll do it first."

He let out a loud, ear splitting bellow from above, hands spread out and wind hitting his cheeks. When he finished, he turned to Donnie eagerly.

"Go on."

Donnie exhaled. "If you say so..." And with that, he too joined in with the screaming. At first, it felt silly but then it surprisingly felt therapeutic. As if he was letting out his pent up frustrations with life.

"How'd that feel?" Casey moved closer to him until they were inches apart.

"It felt...good." Donnie admitted. "And you're sure no one can hear us?"

"Pshaw." Casey said smugly. "Anyone who does hear us will think we're a couple of drunks. I got ya, D." He took his hand in his, squeezing it. The difference between their hands- one large, green with three fingers. The other pale, smaller, five perfectly normal fingers. Casey didn't seem to mind.

"It doesn't solve our problems though." Donnie said.

"No, but it releases a little tension. I've done this with my friends a lot from the hockey team whenever we lose. Which rarely happens, but on that off chance we do? We scream. Fuck the system!"

"You ...consider me like one of your human friends?"

Casey's hazel eyes squinted back at him, as if he was confused by the question. "Of course. Why wouldn't you be? We're friends."

"But I'm..."

"Don't." Casey stopped him, pressing a finger to his lips. "I don't say this to just anyone, okay? But you're a cool dude, Donnie. And the smartest guy I know."

Donnie swallowed. "Jones I..."

"You're perfect the way you are, you hear me? Don't go moping around. It's a little sad to watch." He punched his shoulder affectionately. "Alright?" He looked back into Donnie's mahogany eyes.

"Alright." He nodded, now fully aware how close they were. He stopped himself from staring too hard at Casey's individual freckles, dotting his cheeks like a galaxy of stars. Or his deep hazel eyes, or his perfect peach lips...

An embrace felt too forward, so Donnie simply smiled, revealing his adorable gap. Casey's heart warmed, loving every time he saw that smile. He wasn't lying. He thought Donnie was beautiful in his own way. Turtle or not. As beautiful as April, maybe but in a different way. He wanted to stay the entire night, watching the stars with him.

"I promised Mikey I'd hang with him." Donnie remembered.

"Oh," His eyes looked down, disappointed. "I can walk you there? It's getting kinda late."

"Sure."

"Listen, um, Donnie...there's something you gotta know..."

There was a rustling noise behind them. Donnie froze. "Shut up."

"Excuse me? Did you just tell Casey Jones to shut up?"

"Shut up!" He hissed. "Someone's listening. You idiot, we shouldn't have been screaming our heads off!"

Casey mumbled a curse under his breath.

"Ah, so you are the clever one. Good to know." An unfamiliar voice snarled.

"Who said that?" Casey yelled, grabbing his trusty hockey stick and taser. Donnie gripped his own bō tightly.

"How cute."

Out of the shadows approached the two boys. A mutant reptile at least twenty feet in length with massive yellow eyes staring them down.

"Jones?"

"Yeah, Donnie?"

"I think we found the mutant."

[dramaticsnakes]

The Revived - Chapter 9: Reconnecting

This is chapter 9 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @rainbowbutterfrosting​ and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Nihachu, Ghostbur

Word count: 2784

Cw: sleep problems, needle imagery, implied desire to get hurt, mentions of guilt, brief mentions of food/eating, discussions of violence, implied trust issues

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

The minutes that followed were awkward to say the least. Niki had held onto Wilbur for a while, as if he would slip out of her grasp and dissolve into nothingness at any moment. She’d let Wilbur go free shortly after, and then she started staying at a distance, her eyes never quite leaving him. In a matter of minutes, she’d gone from yelling at him and punching him, to treating him like a fragile porcelain vase that would break the second she got too close. In a way, Wilbur wasn’t sure which he preferred.

“I’m sorry.” she’d repeated several times, quietly and broken, almost as if to mimic Ghostbur’s words that had echoed in Wilbur’s mind earlier, “Wilbur, I’m so so sorry.”

Wilbur had said it was okay, because really, Wilbur had expected punches far earlier, and perhaps it was about time.

He had the chance to look at his surroundings properly, now that he was no longer blindfolded. What had previously been stairs leading to an unknown place, and a lonely room he couldn’t see, now resembled something much grander. An underground area with high ceilings, and god knows how many different rooms. It was like an entire city, right underneath the ground, and Niki was walking through it so casually, looking at Wilbur instead of the impressive sights. “What is this place?” Wilbur asked quietly.

It took Niki a few moments to realize she’d even been asked a question. “Oh! It’s my secret city.”

Wilbur hummed. “Not so secret anymore. You led me right to it.” he said, trying to lighten the quiet mood. Niki just laughed awkwardly. “Did you build this?”

“Yeah. I did.” Niki said with a nod, “I originally made it to house refugees from the war, but… Well, now I just kind of live here on my own.”

“Really?” Wilbur said, looking at what looked like the beginning to a farm, “That’s… That’s a lot of space.” he tried to dig through his memories, “Didn’t you have a bakery?”

At that, Niki’s face turned pale again. She shook her head. “L’Manberg’s gone.”

“Oh.” Wilbur said, “Oh, right. Sorry, that was stupid.” he facepalmed, accidentally touching a bruise, and he heard Ghostbur wince. 

He must’ve winced too, because Niki gave him a concerned look. “You… I’m so sorry, but we should find a way to treat the bruises. I didn’t mean to- or well, I did mean to, but not to you, I…” she trailed off, and closed her eyes, as if her own words made her cringe.

“It’s okay.” Wilbur said, walking ahead.

“It’s not okay. I should’ve…” She shook her head, and took a deep breath. After a few moments of nothing but silence and the sound of their steps, she stopped walking. Wilbur looked back, confusedly. “Wilbur… How exactly are you back?”

Ah. Wilbur should’ve expected the question eventually. “Dream.” he said, “Dream revived me.”

A range of subtle emotions seemed to flow down Niki’s face in ripples. She swallowed something in her throat. “Oh.” she said, “That’s what they said happened with Tommy, I thought… I didn’t even think he was…” she looked at the ground for a moment, her eyes closed tightly. “But why would Dream- Are you… You were dead right?”

Wilbur scoffed. “What do you mean? Yeah I seemed pretty fucking dead to me.”

Niki started whispering to herself. “Wilbur died. He was killed by Phil. Dream revived him.” She repeated the words again, and looked up again, with a smile that looked performative at best. “Okay, I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yeah…” Wilbur attempted to shift the conversation, “Why did you stop threatening me? Like are you just gonna punch me again? I’ll understand if I look punchable, I’ve gotten that quite a lot.” Wilbur chuckled. He desperately hoped Niki wasn’t going to hurt him again, yet part of him still said it was going to happen. Part of him said Niki wasn’t going to let him leave alive.

Yet, Niki managed to prove him wrong when she spoke, “No, no I’m not-” She took a shaky breath. “I’m not going to do it- any of that again. I… I realized that you were actually you when… When you called me ‘Nix.’ You were the only person that called me that.” The words were fragile in a way that made it look like Niki’s eyes were watering. He might have been the one to wipe away Niki’s tears moments ago, but he couldn’t attempt to rub away the unshed ones.

“Niki are you oka-”

“You look tired.” Niki interrupted, the words sounding sharp, “Have you had some rest recently?”

Wilbur looked at Niki disbelievingly, “I mean, I was just passed out and tied up for some hours wasn’t I?”

Niki looked apologetic for a moment again, and Wilbur almost wished he hadn’t said that. “That’s not rest.” she proceeded to say, “You should… You can borrow a bed, and lie here for a while. It’s the least I can do.”

Wilbur caught a good look at Niki’s face again. He looked at the bags underneath her eyes, and the way she looked as if years had passed. For a moment, he pondered if perhaps Ranboo and Tubbo had lied to him, about how long Wilbur had been gone. He found himself doubting this was the same Niki, Wilbur last saw thirteen and a half years ago. “How long has it been since you last slept.” Wilbur asked, and it wasn’t meant to be spiteful. In fact, he was uncharacteristically concerned.

Niki’s expression hardly changed, as she simply blinked once. “Last night.” she said, and Wilbur had enough experience with her to know that it was a lie, but he wasn’t going to say anything. He didn’t feel as if he had the right.

Soon enough, Wilbur found himself sitting on a bed. She left the room with a promise that she’d return, and Wilbur suddenly felt exposed and off, as if he had been miscast in the role of someone who needed help, rather than whichever role he previously had. Not that he was confused about his previous role, because Wilbur had gone way too far by now, to qualify as a hero.

“Ghostbur?” Wilbur whispered.

“Yeah, I’m here! Are you alone?” Ghostbur asked.

“Yes. You went quiet for a while.” Wilbur said.

“Oh, did I? Sorry. I love talking, but you usually don’t like it when I talk while you talk to others.”

In a sense, Ghostbur wasn’t wrong. Wilbur had expressed little but distaste towards it, or he’d ignored it completely, because really he had to. It wasn’t as if this was something he could explain, when people were baffled at the revival alone. Furthermore, he wasn’t sure what would happen if he tried to explain. While people held tension and disdain whenever it came to Wilbur, people held everything from fondness to mild annoyance with Ghostbur. Wilbur wasn’t an idiot. Ghostbur was so inextricably good and happy, and those were two things Wilbur had little to nothing of. There was a little part of Wilbur, however small, that felt as if people would rush to get Ghostbur back from the place in limbo he had done nothing to deserve, even at the cost of Wilbur. 

Of course he shouldn’t want Ghostbur to talk all the time. Ghostbur was annoying. Wilbur knew that. For so long, he’d had to face that fact. And yet, Wilbur still found himself saddened at Ghostbur’s words, because a ridiculous part of Wilbur insisted that the silence was worse. That the light echo-y tone, was keeping Wilbur just above the surface of the ocean, that otherwise wouldn’t hesitate to suffocate him.

Wilbur’s time in limbo must’ve done quite a number on him, for him to think such things.

“You can talk if you have something to say.” Wilbur said quietly, “I won’t always be able to respond, but you can talk.”

“Oh.” Ghostbur said, sounding a little uncertain, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. You can do what you want, you know. Not like anyone can stop you in there.” Wilbur said, but he regretted the words as soon as he said them, because they were met with the sound of a harsh inhale. Wilbur took a deep breath, closed his eyes, trying to collect his words. “I’m sorry it’s… How are you feeling there? I left you alone for a… For a while.”

“I’m fine, I think.” Ghostbur said, his cheerful tone apparent, but the words ambivalent. “I-I don’t think I like this place very much though.”

Wilbur nodded to himself, feeling his heart drop slightly. “Yeah, I get that. It’s very quiet and enclosed.” he bit his lip, almost hard enough to taste the blood within.

“It’s okay!” Ghostbur said, “I’ll probably forget it soon anyway. You’re here now.”

“Ah. Yes, of course.” Wilbur said, and perhaps the idea that Ghostbur would possibly forget soon enough should’ve been a relief, yet there was something strangely dishonest about the way the memories worked. In a sense, Wilbur related to the way memories seemed out of reach. To the way, certain parts of one's life were muddled. He carried just a bit of sympathy for the ghost, and the way he, despite everything, held on, through the vague fog of remembrance. 

“And you have to sleep sometimes! The living do that when they get tired.” Ghostbur said affirmingly.

“That’s true.” Wilbur said, a small smile on his face as he chuckled. After a moment of silence he added, “Hang in there.” because perhaps he was still cruel enough, to let the ghost fall into the illusion that it was temporary. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. 

But Wilbur had gone way too far, to qualify as a hero anyway.

Just then, Niki entered the room. She was smiling, though it seemed practiced. She was holding a plate with a pastry that was probably homemade. In her other hand, she held a glass of water. Wilbur realized that his throat was a little dry, as he laid his eyes upon it. “I had this. Are you hungry?”

Once again, Wilbur felt miscast as a victim. “Yes.” he said begrudgingly, and Niki approached, placing the plate on a table next to Wilbur. “Still baking without the bakery?” he asked.

Niki looked a little surprised at the question. “Oh, yeah! I uh- I am now.”

Wilbur nodded, feeling that the response was a bit strained and off, though he didn’t find it in himself to comment on it. “How long have you been staying here?” he asked.

“A while.” Niki said, “A couple of months, I think.”

Wilbur hesitated. “Alone?” he asked.

Niki turned visibly uncomfortable at the question. “Yeah.” she said, “Or well, I’ve had visitors sometimes.”

Wilbur wasn’t sure what he’d imagined the world to be like, after he died. Perhaps a part of him had expected a bustling community, with Niki standing tall as ever. With her smiling while trying out a new recipe. Maybe with Tommy front and center, with Tubbo by his side. Everything continuing on, as if death led to blooming rather than decay.

And perhaps another, much more selfish part of him, had expected the world to die along with him. For everything to fall to the ground along with L’Manberg, until there was nothing but a crater in the ground.

Neither of those seemed to be the case. Though sometimes, expectations had to be set aside, in order to keep a goal clear.

He took a bite of the pastry, familiar flavours filling his mouth. “Oh. This is delicious!” he said, “Prime I haven’t tasted cake at all in forever.”

Niki giggled, and for a moment everything felt normal. Wilbur wasn’t sure what normal meant at all, but it was as if no time had passed. The sound of the giggle seemed like a gateway through the past, and their voices seemed to blend comfortably, as they went on to make some more awkward conversation. 

Apparently Techno had gone as far as to make an anarchist group, though Niki didn’t go into much details of its members, or whether they’d even done anything noteworthy. She mentioned a couple of new faces, and briefly went into how Dream was in prison. Pandora’s box. Wilbur knew of it. He vaguely remembered the huge building, and he remembered vague dread that didn’t come from his own memories. Ghostbur’s breathing turned shakier at the mention, though they quickly moved on from the subject.

Wilbur noticed however, that whenever the subject of L’Manberg was brought up, Niki’s tone had a sharper edge to it. Her words became quicker and harsher, as if the topic itself stuck needles into her chest, that made her hiss, as if she was catching breath. “Did you miss me?” Wilbur asked at one point.

“Of course I did.” Niki said, her voice turning a little softer.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked.

“Of course I am.” Niki said, and she grasped her mouth once she realized she’d said it. She shook her head. “No! It’s not that bad, it’s just… You’re back now, it’s fine.” 

“I destroyed it all, didn’t I?” Wilbur asked, though it wasn’t a real question. He chuckled, “I destroyed your home. I destroyed everyone’s home.”

“Stop.” Niki said, “It’s over now. The memories are gone and-”

“And I did that!” Wilbur said, with a slight smile.

“Stop.” Ghostbur suddenly said.

“And I’m sorry.” Wilbur added, “I’m sorry I did that, but you should be mad at me anyhow.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to be mad at you Wilbur!” Niki said, a little desperation in her voice. She suddenly took his hand, and looked him in the eyes. “You left. You were gone, and now you’re back. I lost you Wilbur. We all did. And you betrayed everything you used to stand for.” She said harshly, “But I don’t want to be mad at you. Everyone here has done bad things, and you’re not the only one who has left in one way or another. Betrayals happen all the time, and now you’re here. I’m here, and I’m not a part of any of it up there, so it doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters.”

Wilbur sat in silence for a moment, feeling the heat of Niki’s hand on his, that felt all at once comforting and overwhelming. It shouldn’t be there. At most, it should’ve been punching Wilbur again, because the more he thought about everything, the more he hoped someone would take this all out on him. At least it would make him feel alive rather than confused. He wondered exactly when Niki’s outlook became so somber, and he couldn’t help but feel that he perhaps had played a part. The words hadn’t even seemed planned out, and while Wilbur didn’t doubt that they were truthful, he couldn’t help but feel as if there was more truth to be uncovered. “Okay.” he just said, because what the hell was he supposed to say, with Niki looking at him, as if this was the last second he’d spend within her sight?

“It does matter.” Ghostbur said, “There’s a lot going on, but everyone deserves to be happy. That’s important.”

Wilbur wasn’t sure if the sentiment broke his heart or poorly repaired it with some blue duct tape. “I’m sorry, Niki. For what I did.”

“Thank you, Wilbur.” Niki just said, she smiled slightly, though Wilbur wasn’t sure if his apology had gotten through. “Get some rest, alright? You still look exhausted.”

“I can talk a lil’ bit longer,” Wilbur yawned after saying the words. He caused so much pain to Niki that he wanted to at least talk for a few minutes more. Perhaps make those minutes count more than the ones in his past lives. Cherish the moment in a way.

But Niki only looked sympathetically at him. The pity, saying more than she ever could, “Can and should are two different things, Wil.”

“Aww,” Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll rephrase that. I should stay up a bit longer.”

Niki sighed in a way that could have been considered a melancholic laugh, “You really shouldn’t.” The words were quiet, genuine concern showing through them.

With the waves of exhaustion washing over Wilbur, he laid back in the bed. Although the pillow wasn’t very soft, he leaned into it gratefully, his eyes closing along the way.

“Good night, Wilbur.” Niki sat up from the bed, pulling the blanket slightly more over Wilbur. A small smile came across Wilbur’s face. He thought about returning the good night back to her, but he already fell into a dreamless sleep.

[astralglam]

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

1. What does your muse smell like?

without soap or perfume, 683 smells bizarrely sterile, chemical-ish, like a dentist’s office, bleach or cleaning supplies.  like hand sanitizer that kills 99.9% of germs.  they have that faint smell of powdery clean cosmetics, only because they wear so much foundation, face powder and setting spray.  humans like things that smell less artificial, so 683 takes to using cheap perfume (think a teenager who just learned to douse themselves with axe or bath and bodyworks spray), which is artificial in a slightly more palatable way.  their clothes (which are almost all second hand) have that mothball-musty smell of a thrifted dress that hasn’t been washed yet, like an old book.    

2. What do your muse’s hands feel like?

cold, frigid and icy, almost like a mannequin’s if you left the mannequin in the freezer. their skin is tight over their tendons and fingers, with almost waxy, plasticy skin stretched over their joints and knuckles, which makes them seem very fragile.  sometimes their palms are uncannily clammy.  their skin on their palms isn’t rough or calloused but they’re starting to get scars on their fingertips from their voyages into the realm of string instruments.  they used to have very neat, clean and unpainted nails, but nowadays, they have divots and cracks because 683 is clumsy with the strings.  

3. What does your muse usually eat in a day?

683 is often at the mercy of when their friends will decide to cook for them/buy them food.  they don’t have any cooking skills and can barely wash and cut an apple (this isn’t because they’re stupid, on atomina they were used to communal dining with a designated set of people who cooked for everyone in their unit).  683 is naturally accustomed to eating plant matter and (unlike us humans) has a way better digestive system for breaking down cellulose and gets a lot more out of their vegetarian diet than you might expect (two stomachs aint for nothin).  left to their own devices they just eat Whatever (orange? handfuls of spinach, unwashed, pesticides dont hurt them.  microwave a tomato and watch it explode.  brave cutting open an avocado and just eating it with a spoon).  dinner is when priscilla either buys him take out or sid cooks something for him (and sid is an amazing cook!!!).  sid isn’t vegetarian, but his family is, so he knows how to make all kinds of dishes perfect for 683 -- substitute the dairy for nondiary alternatives and 683′s getting matter paneer (with tofu instead), malai kofta (with coconut milk), and aloo gobi (no butter), all sorts of things !!! 

4. Does your muse have a good singing voice?

sort of.  683′s voice, by itself, is nasally and weird and a little grating, but their devotion to music lets them make the most out of their “strange” voice and almost use it to their benefit to sound unique, different, super far out !11!11111  their lyrics, instrumentals and emotion combined is what makes them a talented musician rather than just a good quality voice.  so while they might not have a very pretty voice, they’re still a skilled singer due to their delivery.  

5. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks?

im assuming this is about bad (physical) habits rather than personality deficiencies (of which 683 has many).  683 stares, like, really just stares at people with reckless abandon, they havent figured out it’s rude.  they arent good at even pretending to listen so if they’re disinterested in what you have to say, they’ll look elsewhere, pick at their nails, mumble or interrupt you.  always finds a way to make the conversation about themself.  very disorganized and messy, has a hard time taking care of objects even if they value them (ex. dropping his guitar, misplacing jewelry, yanking a belt off and breaking it).  definitely self pities and has no problem trying to guilt you for everything and anything.  is a pretty frequent smoker, but is polite enough not to smoke if you ask him not to.  

683 is always a little nervous so their nervous ticks are just their baseline state of being (wringing hands, stammering, talking really fast, making insane gestures all around you but being too afraid to touch you, etc)

6. What does your muse usually look like / wear?

683 looks very put together at all times -- not necessarily polished or professional, but very intentional, in that you can tell they definitely made a conscious choice to dress the way they do.  he wore the same dumb uniform every day for the first 20 years of his life, so he’s very excited to try new clothing options.  

more femme-ish clothing preferences go to boxy, sleeveless a-line dresses, miniskirts, bright floral patterns, big plastic earrings, headbands, scarves, etc.  they like clunky platforms and prefer to wear boots.  very 60s mod and colorblocked.  she loves bright eyeshadow but tends to go for more neutral lipstick.  can never figure out what to do with her hair so she usually leaves it down or does a half-up half-down bun kinda deal.  

more masc clothing preferences are bell bottoms, button ups with butterfly collars, paisley print, turtlenecks and fringe jackets, etc. earthy tones and weird nasty olive green.  very late 60s / early 70s. prog rock flavor or glam rock flavor.  never got into the disco style only because he cant pull it off because he’s so scrawny and twitchy and has no chest hair to impress the ladies.    

one thing about 683 is that he hates tight long sleeves and goes insane if he has to wear them.  his uniform was sleeveless, so even short sleeves feel really weird and horrible on his arms.  prefers sleeveless, can do with short sleeves, 3/4ths sleeve or loose long sleeve, really tries to avoid tight/constricting long sleeves.  

i have a pinterest board of potential fits for him although i havent updated it because i barely know how to use pinterest.

7. Is your muse affectionate?  How much?  How so?

to most people, not really, he’s kind of a weird cagey asshole.  oscillates between fascinated with physical touch (suddenly wanting to hug his friends or snuggle with them or grabbing strangers when he’s trying to talk to them) to despising contact (cringes if you touch his hand when you pass him a cup).  he didnt grown up with a culture very big on it, so he isn’t sure if he likes it or not yet.  

to people he does care about, he tends to take his friends for granted but overperform affection for those he has romantic interest in.  not that he doesnt also dearly love and adore his friends, he’s just not the best at expressing his care for them other than random bursts of kindness and dissolving back into his weird normal self.  his understanding of romance has come from a very commercial, media-influenced place (he learns about it through television, novels and commercials, it’s not really inherent to his species) so he thinks romance is about buying flowers, holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes for three hours, etc. if he has romantic interest in you, he will constantly over and over again tell you how much he likes you and your company and you are soooo funny hahahhahhfhh, and will be unusually touchy (clings to your arm, sits RIGHT next to you, drops his head on your shoulder, etc).  

8. What position does your muse sleep in?

683 didnt know what blankets were until he came to earth (or deep space nine) !!! his old room was perfectly temperature controlled and he already has a lower natural body temperature, so there was no need for blankets at all.  human beds with big pillows and blankets are THE COOLEST, so he either curls up underneath a blanket with only the top of his head poking out or he sprawls out like a starfish to take advantage of as many pillows as possible.  his special move is to roll up in the blanket like some kind of little alien lumpia.  

he’s a fitful sleeper so if you sleep in the same bed as him, he’ll punch you or kick you on accident.  he does appreciate company, though, and will also plaster himself up against you and leech your body heat with his weird cold body.

9. Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

depends.  they have a very average speaking voice and aren’t necessarily very loud (plus platforms dull footsteps), but if they were excited, they might raise their voice or yell or exclaim something.  and then they’re very shrill, so yes, you would hear her.  

Tagged by:  @sampati im sorry i took like a week it was really fun i love to type letters and words on the computer Tagging: @dynaura or @pataparty (for whoever you want) / @phantombs / @ofgentleresolve (for lamon? or anyone you want, really!!) / @bystcrdust / @kyrieleisen / @baelends / @bup1957

[wolffesimp]

This is What War Does to You

--

summary: y/n is a doctor for the GAR. after a stressful day, obi wan seeks comfort from her. 

warnings: 1.4 k words of trash. hurt to comfort fic. there is a lil bit of angst and there is also happy endings cuz i don’t write unhappy endings in MY CANON! 🥰

--

--

Rex was the first to run in, holding a trooper in his arms. In obvious disarray, he was looking around to try and find Y/N. His desperate eyes locked with hers. Y/N gaped, running to Rex. Just then, more injured troopers entered. Many familiar faces were in pain. 

“Wh-what happened?” she was horrified, grabbing Rex’s arm to lead him to the medic bay. “I need all hands on deck! Troopers will be coming in soon!”

Rex set down the clone in front of Y/N. 

“Injuries?”

“Leg and left arm.”

Stripping the clone of their armor, she found the sticky blacks hiding underneath. They had been bleeding profusely. She cringed as she unveiled their injuries. Two deep gashes from bullet wounds. Looking up, she found Rex’s tired eyes. He can’t be here, it’s just too much for him right now.

“Rex, honey, you need to leave. They are safe in my care.”

“But ma’am-”

“Do not fight with me right now. We cannot afford to have such arguments when your brothers are all in critical condition.”

Rex frowned as she began to turn on her medical droids and ready her tools. “I-I understand.”

She caressed his cheek gently. In no way did she mean to come off cold. But right now there was too much happening. Y/N couldn’t have him in her way. “Thank you, Rex. You are one of the bravest soldiers I know.”

And with that, he walked away. Assessing the troopers injuries, she mentally prepared herself for a long night. The entire bay was filled with clone troopers and their short-staffed medical team. Emitting a sigh, she began to work on the man in front of her. 

How many more would she have to treat tonight?

--

Well, Y/N was beyond stressed. By the time of 6 AM, she was still working. The last trooper was being treated. Their injury wasn’t extensive, unlike the others that she treated. She made her medical team go to sleep earlier in the morning. So, she worked silently in the shroud of stars and hyperspace. 

Suddenly she felt a presence. Looking behind her, she found a sleepy Obi Wan. He approached her, standing beside the head doctor. In his hands he held a tea and coffee. Completing the last stitch, she exhaled deeply. Y/N turned to the Jedi who offered her the coffee. Warmth filled her palms as she latched onto the cup. Eyes softening, she gave the Jedi the best smile she could muster in her drowsy state. 

“I could just kiss you right now, Obi Wan. This means a lot to me.”

Obi Wan laughed. “How are you doing, Y/N?”

This is a dandy opportunity for Y/N to release all of her internalized stress and anger! Obi Wan sat down in a nearby chair. Y/N paused to take a sip of her coffee. 

“I thought this was going to be a great way to help the GAR! Which, it is, but there is so much other shit going on! Like, I’m not just a doctor. I serve as a soldier in some situations where my medical attention is needed on the field. I help Cody and Rex strategize and provide mental support to any clone that needs it. And now, I have not one pain in the ass, but two entire legions of pains in my ass! No offense, but you Jedi are also crazy! Next thing I know you motherfuckers are gonna start flying around with your weird mind powers!”

“So, to answer your question, I am doing fan-fucking-tastic Obi Wan. Especially since you guys brought in at least 15 new soldiers for me and my team to scramble around and try to help without giving me any heads up!”

“I admit, that was inappropriate of me. But it wasn’t like we were expecting everything to go wrong.”

Sitting beside the General, she ran her fingers through his hair. “I know darling. There’s nothing you can do about it now though.”

He yawned. “Suppose so.”

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Only woke up a few minutes ago.” 

Like a puppy, he curled into Y/N’s side. 

“Just let me stay here for a little bit.” Obi Wan said

His arms wrapped around her waist. Burying his head into her upper chest, he intently listened to her heartbeat. Their position was slightly awkward, as the arms of the chairs separated their bodies slightly. But they made it work. Comfortingly, she continued to run her fingers through his hair. It always worked like a charm on the Jedi. 

“Everything went wrong. No matter what we did-”

“What happened happened. You cannot go back in time, no matter how much you want to. There will always be lives lost in war. I am not saying that these deaths are meaningless. They most certainly are not. But, it is the expectation that people you love will die. That is why I hope there is a place we go after we die, reuniting with everyone who is gone.”

“Fate works in strange ways. Like how I joined the GAR and met all of you magical people. Nothing is a coincidence. In the end, we are all connected one way or another.”

“Now, you can look at the clone’s deaths however you like. But me personally? I will be thinking about the next time I see them. Not in pain, not sick, not dying in my arms, but happy. It is what they deserve. Only the best the afterlife has to offer.”

“War is ugly. You can never forget or escape it. I know some moments still haunt me in my sleep, and I haven’t fought nearly as many battles as they have. But what we have to do is get through it. To see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know it’s there and if we fight long enough, we will find it.”

Obi Wan was crying, she realized soon after her compelling speech. His body shook as silent sobs racked through his body. Arms tightening around her waist, grabbing at her supple skin. He needed something- anything to make him feel better. Like a child, he was deadlocked onto her. The pressure of being the perfect general and Jedi was prevealant in the wrinkles on his handsome face and the callouses on his hands.

Hot tears stained her shirt as they continuously fell from his face. Y/N held him impossibly closer, hoping her affection was enough to quell the sadness in his heart. Tears also began to fill her eyes. An immense sense of guilt fell over the two. 

This is what war does to you. 

It breaks you slowly. Even the strongest of people cried.

“It’s alright darling. It’s alright.”

They both knew it wasn’t. 

“Nothing is lost so long as we continue to dream in color and fight with all we’ve got.”

To Obi Wan and Y/N, dreaming in color was fantasizing the ideal future. One where the Jedi weren’t held up to such high standards. One where the clones lived a full life doing whatever they liked, not judged by society because they all looked the same. One where Ahsoka felt like a real teenager and did teenager things. One where Padmé and Anakin get their happy ending. They could make it a reality so long as they fought hard enough. 

Obi Wan tilted his head up. Just the sight of his heartbroken eyes cued Y/N’s floodgates. His bloodshot, golden orbs continued to be beautiful even in moments of pain. Neither were used to letting their guards down. She cupped the sides of his face, thumbs running over his deep and silky beard. Tears dripped down her chin and jaw as they shared the intimate moment. 

“You stop that.” Obi Wan said 

Weakly, he kissed her tears away. Soft lips collided on her skin. Heat coursed through her veins at the gesture. Closing her eyes, she let the last of her tears slip out. The salty taste lingered as he pulled her into his lap. Her legs wrapped around his torso. Pressing their foreheads against each other, they stared back at one another. 

“You are the one that started crying first.” she teased softly

They both laughed despite the pain. It was something you learned to do after so many hardships. She rested her head in his neck. 

“I forgot how tired I was...”

“Then go to sleep, darling.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Just as she was doing to him a few moments ago, he began to play with her hair. Coaxing her to sleep, he mumbled things into her ear. But she caught one thing before she succumbed to slumber. 

“I love you.”

--

a/n: WOOOOW IT HAS BEEN A MINUTE, Y’ALL! I am so glad that I worked past my writers block! I really do hope to be posting more content soon. Sometimes it’s just hard to force yourself to sit down and FINALLY write! But I did it! I’m hoping you guys enjoyed! 

And as I always say, DO NOT BE AFRAID TO INTERACT! My ask box is ALWAYS open! My direct messages are OPEN! Comments are welcomed, as well as reblogs. I love you guys!

--

masterlist for more of my content

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Protea (Part 16)

She waited too long. 

Hesitated for too long.

And now, as she is growing used to, the damage has been done. 

She thinks that Mai has known for a while now. Likely she had overheard she and Mohi conversing. She is almost certain that this it had been a test of honesty, that she has been waiting for her to come out with the truth that she had already guessed. And, by all means, she was going to--truly, she was--but, just as likely, Mai had set a time frame. One that Azula failed to act within. 

“How long have you had your memories, Azula?” She hisses. 

“Since around the night of our first date.” Her voice is quiet and even. Level for now. 

“That long? Spirits! You and Zuko are both the same.” 

“Oh wow, she’s really mad at you, Snapdragon.” Zuko remarks as he sneaks on by.

She isn’t sure if she wants to grab him by his pompous fire lord’s robe and give him a good whack or laugh at the his ignorance to the context. Laugh at the sense of unity they might soon have in Mai’s cold resentment. 

“I was going to tell you.”

“When?” Mai asks. “Because it seems like you just like to run, whether you’re Azula or Snapdragon. You always run.” She rolls her eyes. “Just like Zuko.” This is pointedly louder than the statements prior. 

“Are you trying to get kicked out of the palace.”

Mai quirks a brow. “It’s not like I have anything important to stay for.” She rubs her hands over her face. “How am I supposed to manage the flower shop on my own?”

Azula doesn’t understand. The solution is clear. “You aren’t running it alone.”

“Yes. I am.” 

“You don’t have to.”

“I would rather try to handle everything on my own than handle anything with you.”

Azula her stomach and hopes sink in unison. “You liked running the shop with me.”

“I liked running the shop with Snapdragon. Not you.” Her lip curls into a scowl on the last word.

She wonders how it is that Mai always knows just what to say to break her...to shatter her. It is just what Azula had dreaded. Exactly why she couldn’t muster up the willingness to tell her. And yet she is almost certain that Mai would have stuck around if she did. Why else would she have waited so long to start this confrontation? 

“We’re the same person.” She doesn’t think that it is the weakest defense, but it isn’t a strong one and it is the only one that she has. 

Mai shakes her head. “Snapdragon was genuine.”

“I’m trying to be.”

“Trying isn’t good enough.” Mai hisses. “Not for you.”

“What about for me?” 

Mai rolls her eyes. “You’ve had so many chances, Zuko. I’d take Azula back before I took you.”

Azula isn’t if it is she who cringes harder or he. She grows less tense when the depth of her words seems to go over his head. At least she can take comfort in that her odds are better than Zuko’s, though she knows that he has set the bar as low as ever. 

“You are in a dreadful mood.” Zuko comments. 

“Well I guess that you and Snapdragon have something to bond over. Maybe she’ll be honest with you, she already made a mess with Mohi’s sons and I.”

Finally at her patience's end she scoffs, “why don’t you go bond with Kaz then?”

“Perhaps I will.” 

Zuko waits for her to make it down the hall, “what did you do?” He flinches. “I thought that, that reaction was reserved for me.” 

“I guess that we both just have a special talent for making her angry, Zuzu.” 

“Yeah clearl--wait, what did you just call me?”

She doesn’t repeat herself. She doesn’t need to. She has already made everyone she cares about angry with her, what’s one more person? One more person who she had never been close with or gotten close to, to begin with.

“Azula, how?” 

She sidesteps his curious touch. 

“The same way that mother did.” 

“Spirts,” he chuckles, she doesn’t see where he finds humor. “Wait until Ami finds out about this one.”

She almost certainly would have laughed if she weren’t feeling so dismal. “That’s it? That’s what you have to say.”

“I don’t know what else to say. It’s a little late for ‘welcome home’, you’ve been back for a while now. I knew that you’d turn up eventually, you always do.” 

She shrugs, “you’re usually more dramatic than this.” Evidently she is almost disappointed. “Where is the yelling and the lamenting. Bursts of fire, give me something.”

“Azula, Mai told me that you ate a whole marigold, I’m still processing that.” 

.oOo.

She doesn’t even know the man. He is charming enough in appearance, sure. She thinks that he is half Water Tribesman and half Fire National. His complexion is darker though his eyes are a bright gold. His hair a deep black but beaded and braided as they do in the tribes. He has a soft goatee in the making.

He isn’t so bad as far as personality goes. He has a sense of humor, but it isn’t one she shares. He has a passion for firebending, but it is quite generic. He is generic and she wonders if that is due to having spent so much time with Snapdragon. She cruses Azula twice over for setting a surprisingly high and bizarre standard. 

It is no matter. 

There doesn’t need to be any real connection where spite is involved. 

She thinks that he might actually have a real spark for her. One that she is too indifferent to reciprocate. But she supposes that one hurt leads to another. One heartache can make a dozen more. 

Likely it is as simple as resenting Azula more than it is actually loving one another. Anyways, she can’t imagine that one discussion and one practice kiss could ignite anything real. Kaz leans himself against the wall as they wait for the dinner crowd to arrive. 

Mostly the traffic consists of chefs and servers.

She leans closer to Kaz. If she has Azula’s schedule down, she will be making her way down the hall shortly. 

She hears her voice before she sees her. Something in her heart flutters. That voice, it had been such a delight to hear. Something to look forward to and get enthusiastic about. Mai inhales before leaning in for the kiss. 

It feels just as dispassionate as she had expected and laced with a dash of guilt. She doesn’t stop though. Not until she hears Azula’s sentence cut short. Not until she detects a familiar aura of betrayal. 

She wonders what TyLee would say if she weren’t off with they Kyoshi warriors on some thrilling mission. She wonders if TyLee has found someone she loves, someone who makes her happy. She wonders why she is thinking of TyLee at all. 

She supposes it is better than thinking about the feeling of Kaz’s lips and the whir of emotions within.

Dinner is tense. Azula hardly speaks. When she does it is to ask Mohi to pass her a spice shaker. Once or twice she exchanges words with Zuko. The uneasy fluttering in her tummy is made worse when she compares this solemn meal to the lively and chaotic ones she’d shared with Snapdragon before. 

Azula excuses herself before the main course. 

There is a part of her that wants to sigh heavily and tell her to sit back down. Most of her is still so angry. Angry and hurt. And those parts let Azula go.

She had gotten with Snapdragon to feel something and now she is feeling too much.

.oOo.

It is late, she isn’t sure just how much so, when she arrives at her factory. It has been so long since she has seen it. Somehow it looks unfamiliar, daunting and uninviting. 

That is until she touches her hand to the metal, it is still very warm from the day’s excessive heat. She closes her eyes, it is familiar. 

It is still a comfort. 

She ignores the stain that the rust leaves on her palms as she finds her first foothold. It is automatic at this point, and quick and easy ascent. She reaches the first landing, a rickety old fire exit. The last of it’s emergency staircase had crumbled a few weeks prior, it still rests haphazardly on the ground. She leaps from it to the balcony above it, with a blast of fire for good measure. 

She will make it to the top this time. 

She swears it.

She will, because this time she has her fire and no trepidations.

She makes it past the highest balcony. To the point where there are only overly large rivets to hold. She takes a deep breath and pushes forward. This is the highest she has ventured. She propels herself with a steady stream of fire, her hands find stability on one of the spokes. 

She looks down, Caldera city is a glow with lanterns and bonfires. A beacon of wealth and culture and she has the pleasure of taking it all in at once. She thinks that she doesn’t really need anything else. 

She is eager to see it from the very highest point of the factory. It isn’t so far away now. And being so close to it, she isn’t sure how she hadn’t made it to this point sooner. It should only take one more blast of fire and a careful placement of her hands. She observes it for a good while before settling on an optimal angle to propel herself from and the best place to set her hands. 

She takes another deep breath and shifts her weight. 

The spoke buckles. 

[musical-in-theory]

Caught in the Crossfire

Chapter 3: Did Someone Say Rebellion?

Chapter 1: x Chapter 2: x

Wilbur fidgeted with his beanie in his hands. His fingers trailed roughly over its fabric and caught on its worn through holes. The poor piece of clothing had seen better days, but barely anyone had ever seen the man without it. Even L’manburg’s revolutionary army could tell you he wore it underneath his tricorn hat.

Now it was being wrung through his hands in worry. Dream was supposed to meet with him hours ago, but the masked man was nowhere to be seen. He needed to get back to Tommy. They only really had each other, despite having the equivalent of a god on their side. Wilbur trusted Tommy with a lot, but Tommy had already shown that he couldn’t be trusted with his own safety. Ever since he lost his second life in the duel, Wilbur hadn’t been able to completely relax while his little brother was out of sight. 

Wilbur shivered and clutched at his coat. It was nearly nightfall, and Wilbur knew all too well how the cold could settle into his bones once the sun set. He made as if to turn back the way he came and start the walk back to Pogtopia when he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Leaving so soon?” Dream said with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

Anger blazed through his worry and frustration, or perhaps the rage was heightened by it. “Where the fuck have you been? I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I don’t exactly have all the time in the world for you to decide I’m worth yours! So unless you’ve brought something that could make up for the two fucking hours I just spent waiting on you, I’d suggest you go back to sitting on your goddamn high horse to keep looking down on us mere fucking mortals, your Highness.” Wilbur’s shoulders heaved as he tried to breathe through his outburst. 

He shook his head and put his beanie back on, steeling his expression to keep from giving away his own surprise. He worked so hard for so long to keep his emotions in check, only ever letting them out for his music. In conversations, he stayed professional, in control. He needed to be the level-headed one to his brothers’ chaos. He didn’t know what it was about Dream that allowed this control to slip away from him. It was like the green bastard could read him like a book. 

Wilbur looked back up at Dream expecting to see signs of aggression or retaliation, but instead his shoulders were shaking under the force of barely contained laughter. “Wow, it’s been a while since anyone’s had the gall to yell at me like that. If it were coming from someone who actually posed a threat, I might have even been scared. It’s kinda refreshing.” 

Wilbur resisted the urge to glare at him for the backhanded compliment. He kept his stare blank and his face neutral in a practiced fashion as he could hear the unsaid threat that loomed underneath the statement. I could destroy you and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. 

Dream cleared his throat and continued, “I do have something that could be of some value. I have an idea about our next move. As I recall, one of my most devastating moves was recruiting a spy on the inside.” Dream walked over to Wilbur and circled behind him. He placed his hands on the ex-leader’s shoulders and whispered, “As luck would have it, Schlatt is keeping quite the promising candidate close to his side. His right hand man, I believe he called him?”

Wilbur wrenched himself from Dream’s grasp and put distance between the two of them. “Tubbo? I don’t know, Dream. Eret’s situation was different. His life was already on the line with the war. It wasn’t as if he was risking anything new in that scenario. Tubbo has so much more to lose if he’s caught as a spy…” Wilbur looked away towards the direction of Manburg. 

Dream put his hands up in a placating fashion and chuckled. “I get your point. I do, but he’s also your only option. Nikki is the only other one that’s shown even the slightest bit of sympathy towards your cause, but Schlatt obviously trusts her about as much as he can throw her. She’s been very… outspoken about her dislike of his administration. Tubbo can be persuaded out of his shaky allegiance to Schlatt. He’s Tommy’s best friend. You can use that.”

The thought of using Tommy and Tubbo’s friendship for his own gain sat like lead in his stomach. It was far too much to put on the kid’s shoulders. Wilbur sighed tiredly. The anger-fueled adrenaline had all but drained from his veins. “We made a deal, Dream. What you say goes. I don’t like this at all, but-” He was cut off by more laughter from the other.

“Soot, this isn’t- this isn’t an order. This is just a suggestion. Trust me, you’ll know when the time comes for me to give you an order. For now, I just want to advise you on how to get your little rebellion off the ground. You can say no, but I’d strongly advise you to reconsider.” Dream shook his head. “Just sleep on the idea. You can give me your answer the next time we meet. But you should probably head back. It’s gonna get cold soon, and we don’t have any burning flags around to warm us up.” With that, Dream turned on his heel and walked back into the forest the way he came. 

Wilbur watched his retreating back for a moment before doing the same. That was the thing about Dream he hated the most; He was always able to point out the difficult truths. Wilbur despised the idea of using a child as a spy, especially when it was Tubbo. He already felt enough guilt about having him and Tommy fight in a war that he should have been able to prevent. But Dream was right about needing someone on the inside. 

Wilbur shook his head and picked up his pace. He could think about that later. He needed to get back to Tommy quickly. The kid had been acting off for half a week. Anytime Wilbur would seek him out for something, he’d start fidgeting and avoiding his eyes. Tommy was nervous, and it set Wilbur on edge. Now wasn’t the time for Tommy to start keeping secrets from him. Not when it was practically just the two of them left. 

His shoulders sagged in relief as he finally saw the mound of dirt that signified Pogtopia. The dirt that disguised the opening was a bit shifted out of place, but Wilbur learned early on that it was just another way to tell that Tommy had gone out and come back. He didn’t have a reason to suspect anything until he hit the stairs down into the ravine. 

Two voices sounded from below. They were hushed which immediately set Wilbur on edge. His mind raced. He was terrified of the prospect that someone else had found their base and had already found Tommy. He could easily pick out his little brother’s voice despite his unusually quiet tone. Images flashed through his head of arrows raining down on his head, chasing him, piercing him, killing him, as he fled from people he used to trust. Worry that one of them had finally found the duo had his mouth filling with bile. 

That’s when he heard the unmistakable baritone of the other’s voice. It froze Wilbur where he stood. It brought back far too many memories, almost all of which had been tainted by the bittersweet passage of time. He quickly shook himself out of his stupor and dashed down the rest of the stairs. 

His eyes immediately focused on the shock of bright pink hair standing in the middle of the walkway. He missed the look on Tommy’s face of both fear and hope. Instead, he could only watch as the man that had been speaking with the young exile turned around to face him for the first time in years.

Technoblade had joined the game. 

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

4 days earlier

Techno put the last of his netherite scraps into his chest and shut the lid with a sigh. His latest trip to the nether hadn’t been as productive as usual, but that couldn’t be helped. The mobs were starting to grow restless in this world, and a small part of Techno sympathized. This had been the longest he’d ever stayed in one place since he’d parted from his family. 

He cringed inwardly as he thought about the people he left behind. He never meant to be gone as long as he had been, but it seemed like the longer he was gone, the harder it was to return. More often than not, he’d just force himself to stop thinking about it or throw himself into another meaningless battle. 

The relentless buzz of his communicator drew him from his thoughts. His eyes widened in surprise. It was Tommy. Years ago Phil had helped code their communicators so that they could all message each other no matter if they were all on separate worlds. Not that any of them had particularly used this feature other than Phil making sure none of them were dead. 

TommyInnit: hey there bitch! wilbur needs you to come to the dream SMP land. we kinda bit off more than we can chew, and this guy schlatt went and fucked everything up. not that I don’t have everything handled and shit. being a Big Man and all. but maybe you could just stop bye and help out for a bit, yeah?

Techno snorted. He knew immediately that this was Tommy’s way of trying to brush off the fact that he needed help. He looked over the message a few more times and tried to ignore the slight sting that accompanied it being Tommy and not Wilbur that reached out. It was clear that the two of them were together, but he’d only heard from one of them. 

He looked out the window. Night was beginning to fall, and Techno could see mobs already spawning. He sighed at the thought of going through the motions of getting rid of the ones that strayed just a little too close to his base. It all had become too monotonous lately. 

He eyed the communicator again and smirked. Perhaps it was time for a change of pace. From what he heard of Dream’s land, a fair amount of people lived there. Plenty of people to fight, especially if Tommy was there to rile them up. 

Technoblade: What’s in it for me?

It was less than a second before Tommy responded. Techno laughed as he read over the message, although deep down it worried him how desperate it felt.

TommyInnit: WOMEN

Technoblade: I guarantee you don’t know any

TommyInnit: i’ll get wilbur to spar with you again

Now, that sparked Techno’s interest. He was going to say yes anyway, but getting to fight with his twin was too good a chance to pass up. He wanted to see if Wilbur had improved any from the last time they’d seen each other. It was a question that popped up every so often when his brothers’ safety ever came across his mind.

Technoblade: You’ve got yourself a deal. I need to tie off a few loose ends here, but I’ll be there in a few days. Keep an eye out and stay safe, gremlin child.

The buzz sounded again, but Techno didn’t look. He could live without the rant about being called a child. He left his communicator on the table while he left to start gathering up the necessities for world travel.

TommyInnit: please hurry…

Thanks everyone for reading! Also thanks for being patient. Finals kicked my ass and I needed some time to focus on that. Thanks once again to @the-ruler-of-rabbits for being such a lovely beta reader! I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I’m really excited for the next one. Wilbur and Techno get the chance to talk, and it might not go how either of them expect it to.

Taglist: 

@obsidiancreates @strawberiitea @coindoesstuff @unlikelypaperwitch @corrine-370 @crazymecjc @ducklingqueen @idkhowbutimgayer @whydoilovesomanyvillians @anne-the-historian-ish @wilburs-soot @belonginthesky 

Message me if you want added to or taken off the taglist!

[whumpthisway]

Huck and Stephen - Provoked

OC Nonhuman Whumpee and OC Master fic

This is a series - link to 01. Masterpost here <3

A/N: This came from @newbornwhumperfly’s really good prompt: ‘excellent!!! i love daydreaming about poor huck 😩😩😩 so, we all know that huck has very low self-esteem & thinks they’ve conned stephen into a good impression of them, yeah? so does the sense of shame at their “undeserving” status ever overwhelm the pleasure huck gets from being treated kindly? like, have they “let” a situation happen where stephen would have to yell at or punish them for being the bad pet they know they are? if they did, would that plan work? 😈😈😈 - newbornwhumperfly’ Thank you for this!!! <3 <3 rly hope you like it, it ran away a bit with me and idk if it’s the tone you were looking for but yh >.< <3 This one is set to fit in sometime after Nighttime and Huck’s been living with Stephen for around a couple months. Again, please ask me for specific tags or warnings if you need them or I miss something :) Also, this one is dark in a mental way, as Huck’s in a pretty bad place, so pls read the warnings.

Content warnings: past abuse, self-harm, very very low self-esteem, panic, self-destructive behaviour

*

(Huck POV)

With a belly comfortably full of pasta, Stephen’s gentle hand rubbing between their ears, and a blanket nestled over their back as they curled up on the sofa, Huck should’ve felt content. They shifted restlessly at Stephen’s side as he watched the same archaeology programme he watched every week, and almost always with Huck’s head resting against him. They’d become part of Stephen’s carefully maintained routines, and Huck was beginning to feel permanent.

“Getting bored?” Stephen muted his show as he turned to look down at them kindly and Huck looked back at him.

“No, Master.” The restless discomfort itching under their fur didn’t feel like boredom at all.

Stephen sighed a little, and Huck didn’t even flinch. “You don’t have to call me that, Hucky.”

Huck dropped their head and shrugged. They knew. But they’d forget their place completely if they stopped.

Stephen offered them a slight smile and rubbed a finger under their chin before he turned the sound back on for his show.

Huck settled for a while, before they couldn’t help but fidget again.

“You know you don’t have to stay, lad. Go do something else if you want, hm?”

Huck hummed back. They didn’t know what they wanted and just huffed and tried to stay still. But the blanket was too warm and they kicked it off, looking down at where it landed on the floor. They ought to pick it up and fold it; Stephen liked things neat, but they didn’t move, for reasons they couldn’t explain.

Stephen glanced over too, and Huck felt his slight tension in how his hand paused in Huck’s fur. For the first time in a long while, Huck’s heart up-ticked as they waited warily for Stephen’s reaction. But Stephen just turned back to his show after a moment, listened to a man with a trimmed, white beard talk about ancient pottery.

Huck didn’t know exactly why they’d done that with the blanket, but when they deliberately pulled away from Stephen’s fingers rubbing the back of their neck, they knew what they were looking for.

Stephen’s hand hovered in the air a second after Huck moved away from him, but he only looked over at Huck once before settling his hand on his thigh.

It was stupid. Completely stupid, but anger swelled up inside Huck and they found themself growling like Stephen had deliberately stepped on their tail, not just politely respected their space.

This time, Stephen fetched the remote and switched the tele off and Huck went stiff, their growl falling silent as their throat felt like it closed up.

“What’s the matter, lad?” Stephen looked more puzzled than angry. “You don’t want me to pet you anymore?”

The thought of Stephen never running his short-nailed fingers through their fur again made Huck want to cry. But they still felt so painfully restless and irritated and frustrated and it was all directed at Stephen, though he’d done nothing to deserve it.

They couldn’t answer, so stayed sullenly silent. The light crows’ feet at the corners of Stephen’s eyes deepened as he frowned.

“Talk to me,” he coaxed. When Huck kept their jaw clamped shut, their ears pressed back, Stephen reached out slowly as if to put a hand on Huck’s back, but giving them plenty of time to pull away.

Their hackles went up and they growled again, low and upset. “Stop it!” Huck’s exclamation startled both of them and Stephen quickly took his hand back.

“I’m sorry.” Stephen pressed his lips together, but there wasn’t a hint of anger in his face. “I won’t- didn’t realise it was upsetting you.”

Huck ground their teeth together and flexed their claws, which caught on the sofa fabric. Normally, they’d very carefully extract them so as not to pull any fibres out, but this time they didn’t care. If Stephen didn’t like their behaviour maybe he should actually do something about it.

Stephen startled at the sound of Huck’s claws digging and tearing the sofa cover. They were sharper and longer these days, without Master Parry clipping them right down to the bed on a regular basis.

“Huck!”

Huck couldn’t meet Stephen’s eyes but they didn’t stop, digging their claws in further, a growl vibrating through them. Do something, they thought viciously, do something, Master.

“What’re you-” Stephen was agitated and his hands hovered uncertainly in the air. “Huck, enough, we can talk-”

Huck ripped their claws free with an awful tearing noise. “NO!” They didn’t want to talk.

Their eyes welled up with a mix of fury and fear, and they kicked off the back of the sofa, springing off the cushions to land on the tiled floor, already scrambling for purchase to run away.

They’d never have run from Master Parry, nor damaged his possessions, nor talked back, nor talked at all, once he’d ordered them not to. But Master Parry had known what they were, had known how disloyal and awful they were deep inside and he’d known how to deal with them. Stephen thought they were too good to deserve punishment, but he didn’t know, he didn’t know Huck at all.

Sobbing uncontrollably between gasps, Huck’s frantic legs carried them up the stairs, down the corridor and into the bedroom, where they skidded under the bed. They hit their back painfully against the ridge of the bed frame when they didn’t duck down quick enough, but the sting was almost a relief.

Crawling further under, the dust making them cough, they pressed themself up against the wall and cried in great, choking heaves. They didn’t deserve Stephen even a little, but they still wanted to stay so badly it made them feel sick sometimes.

Stephen left them alone for a little while, even though Huck couldn’t stop their crying, which was definitely loud enough for Stephen to find them easily. Huck tortured themself with thoughts of Stephen making phone calls to Mariann, demanding she take Huck away, that’s he’d had enough of Huck’s stupid behaviour. It’d been more than two months, Huck thought, and Stephen had made it clear when Huck arrived that he didn’t want a long-term pet. He’d been horrified by the thought.

Huck’s breathless crying had finally petered off by the time Stephen’s slow tread climbed the stairs. Huck’s breathing hitched at the familiar sound and they hunkered down further, hiding their face in their paws, ears pressed down and tail curled up close to their legs.

“Huck?” Stephen sounded tired and Huck felt guilt surge in them, amongst the mess of their feelings. Stephen had had a long day working and he’d just wanted to relax, but Huck had messed that up for him. “Lad, where’re you?”

Huck couldn’t bear to let Stephen waste time looking for their useless hide, so they whined softly, and then again louder when Stephen didn’t seem to hear.

Stephen’s footsteps approached, scuffing a little in his tartan slippers, which appeared first in Huck’s line of sight from under the bed. Stephen crouched down slowly, and Huck could picture perfectly the grimace on his face at the strain to his knees, and Huck started crying again, silently now. They were so, so bad.

“Huck?” Stephen stuck his head under the edge of the bed and Huck couldn’t help but cringe away. Stephen’s eyes couldn’t see as well in the dim light as Huck’s could, Huck knew, but he’d seen Huck’s flinch, because his face turned briefly hurt. And why wouldn’t he be? What had he ever done to hurt or threaten Huck? Nothing. He was the kindest owner, and he deserved a creature that was as good as Stephen was, not a disobedient, sullen, damaged one.

“I’m a bit lost about what that was all about,” Stephen said quietly, in that soothing tone he’d used right after Huck had first arrived, “but let’s talk about it, okay?”

Huck sniffled and pressed their forehead to the floor, hiding. They were beginning to shiver as the rush of emotion and adrenaline burnt off and left them cold and exhausted.

“Huck, please come out.” Stephen sniffed, the dust clearly getting to him. “I’d rather cut off my own thumb than hurt you, and it’ll take more than a torn sofa to change that, love.”

Huck swallowed thickly. “You should, Master,” they whispered.

Stephen was silent for a long pause. “I should what? Cut off my own-”

“No!” Huck yelped. The thought was awful and they didn’t know why Stephen had brought it up. “Hurt me, you should hurt me, Master.”

Stephen eased into a more comfortable position on the hard floor. “Why should I?” Huck squeezed their eyes shut. Wasn’t it obvious? “Huck? Why’d you think I should-”

Huck interrupted him again, just like the shitty pet they were. “I’m bad.”

“Huck,” Stephen said softly, “you’re not bad.”

“Yes I am!” Huck yelled, loud and sudden enough to make Stephen blink and lean marginally backwards. Huck gulped and ducked their head.

“What’s bad about you?”

Huck cried harder. “Everything,” they gasped. “You should- get a- a better pet, Master.”

They thought of another creature living in Stephen’s house, a sweet, pretty one that smiled a lot and never cringed from Stephen or woke him up with nightmares or cried all over his jumper. And where would Huck be? They deserved to go to a Master that’d discipline them, but they felt so sick at the thought they choked.

“I don’t want a different… companion. I like you.”

“You- you- you,” Huck couldn’t get their words out and swallowed thickly.

“Take your time, lad.”

Huck rubbed their paw over their eyes. “You only say that because you’ve, you’ve never had a good pet, Master.”

Stephen paused and Huck tensed, expecting Stephen to finally realise that Huck wasn’t worth his time or his care.

“Huck, I care for you very much, lad. I wouldn’t trade you for any other creature or human, not now and not when we’re both old and creaky.” Stephen tried weakly to smile.

Huck’s heart squeezed. “You should have a better pet, Master.”

“Who says I should? Can’t I choose who I want to spend my time with myself?”

Huck tensed. Stephen was right; Huck’d been telling their master that his choices were wrong. They’d been trying to do what was best for him, but that was no excuse for trying to give their master orders.

“I’m sorry, Master,” they whimpered.

Stephen shifted a little on the hard floor where he was still crouched down, frowning gently at Huck.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Huck heaved a sob.

“I argued with you,” they choked out, trying so hard to make Stephen understand. “I told you what to do! I tore up the sofa! I wouldn’t let you pet me and I ran away and I cried like a weak, stupid-” They banged their forehead hard against the floor, “awful-” Their head thumped the floor again.

“Huck!” Stephen barked, before his hand shot out and reached under the bed, stretching out towards Huck’s shoulder. “Stop it!”

Huck didn’t. Stephen wouldn’t make them be a better pet, so they’d do it themself.

“Huck!” Stephen sounded sharp and desperate. “Stop right now!”

Before Huck could do it again, Stephen’s hand found their arm and he pulled them, hard, out from under the bed.

Huck yelped, more shock than pain, though Stephen’s grip was rough. They were tugged out into the brighter light of the bedroom and then Stephen wrapped both arms around them and held them tight, one hand cradling the back of their head.

“Don’t do that, don’t ever do that.” Huck was shaking badly enough that it took a moment for them to realise that Stephen was trembling too. He was holding them close, like they might try to run away again. “Why’d you do that?” Stephen had his forehead pressed to Huck’s shoulder and Huck felt his tears seeping into their fur. They were too shocked to feel properly guilty, but it’d come.

“I don’t deserve a good Master,” Huck whispered. Their head was throbbing badly and they closed their eyes, going limp against Stephen.

“Yes you do.” Stephen rocked them gently. “You deserve every good thing. You’ve been through hell and- and those asshole owners of yours,” Huck tensed, “they told you it was your fault that they treated you like shit. But Huck, it was their fault, okay? No-one should treat anyone like you were treated, y’understand? You’re a good lad, a good person. You’ve always been good.”

Huck curled their tail around Stephen’s foot and couldn’t help but melt into the comfort Stephen offered so freely, even though they shouldn’t. They weren’t a person.

“Sometimes,” Huck whispered, “I watched Master Parry get into his car, out of the window. And- and- I wished that he’d die. I wished that another car would hit his car and he’d just-” They were crying again, waiting for Stephen’s disgust. They were always just waiting for it, for the moment he’d turn away from them, but it never happened. No matter what happened, Stephen never did. And he didn’t now either.

“He beat and abused you, lad, from what Mariann’s said. You wishing him to go away… there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re allowed to be angry at him.”

Huck shook their head. “I’m just a bad pet, Master. A good pet would never, ever think like that.”

Stephen eased away from them, but only far enough that he could meet their eyes. He rubbed their back for a long moment, looking thoughtful.

“Huck… can you, can you accept that I don’t think you’re bad? That I think you’re good just as you are? Maybe you don’t believe it, but just, believe me when I say you make my life better?”

A better pet would make you even happier, Huck thought.

But they knew what Stephen meant, and they did believe that Stephen thought that. He was too just too kind.

So they nodded silently and Stephen smiled a little.

“Alright. We’ll talk about this more in the future, okay? And just, promise me if you feel like- hitting yourself again, tell me, lad, please?”

Huck chewed their lip, before nodding again. They deserved punishment, but Stephen was right; he got to decide whether or not Huck got punished, not Huck. And if Stephen wanted to spoil them, then Huck should let him, however uneasy it made them feel. Their feelings didn’t matter after all, only what made Stephen happy.

*

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[chimswae]

BTS Caretaker CH35

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 3, 685

- Author Note: Hi update update! :DDD

Previous | Next

Chapter 35

It was a good day to drink only if you choose a perfect companion as your drinking buddy. Fortunately for Jimin, Seul had time to spare today. As soon as he finished his practice, he went straight to Seul’s workplace to pick her up.

They chose to drink at the top of the hill near her place. It was the best place to drink according to Seul, yet it did not disappoint him. Taking a sip from her coke, she glanced at him “What are you going to do about it?” she warmed up.

“About what?” Jimin feigned innocence. Rolling her eyes in response, Seul nudged his shoulder lightly “You know what I mean” she whispered.

Jimin scratched his head with a shy smile “Can you stop making fun of me? I told you I will deal with it discreetly. Don’t make it sound so scandalous” Seul curled her lips into a slight pout.

“So, are you going to give up on him?” she asked out of curiosity.

“Seul, listen..  I care for Jungkook and I love him, but it won’t change the fact that it is impossible to pursue him. I am comfortable to love him this way, as time passes the feelings that I have will be washed off completely. I will no longer have this romantic feeling for him, so I can return to where I start. I want to keep Jungkook close to me. I don’t want to ruin what we have now, it is precious” Seul nodded with a soft hum.

“Understandable. I am with you till the end. Follow your heart Jiminie, don’t be pressure. About your feelings for Jungkook, let the time decides it for you. As for now, live your life as it is”

“Thank you. As for now I am not thinking about serious relationship” he squished her hand, smiling brightly.

“So, should I introduce you to a girl?” “Ji Seul!” he poked her forehead using the tip of his finger causing the latter to giggle.

Jimin was having a hard time to deal with her little tease now she’s planning to add more it, what an ignorant girl. “What? Now, that you find I am unfit to your liking. Shall I set you up with someone? There is my best friend Hwasa” grinning like a fool, Seul wiggle her brows, followed by a small dance.

“Are you playing matchmaker now? Wow, you do have a lot of time in hand” he cringed at her absurdity.

“Hey, I am being helpful. Is Hwasa okay for you? She is loud and a little rough though, but that doesn’t matter since you survive Yoongi I am sure you can survive Hwasa!” Jimin was losing his word when he barely started this banter that he’s about to have with Seul.

Scoffing in disapproval, Jimin shuddered at the thought of dating Seul’s best friend “I am sure your friend is as crazy as you. Pass” the girl jabbed the side of his torso with a nasty glare.

“Yah! Do I need to remind you that you used to like me? Tsk, ungrateful brat” she crossed her arms and made a sour face. “Do you have someone in mind?” Seul gave him a questioning look.

“I have someone in mind” it will always be Jungkook, his subconscious argued at the back of his mind.

“Oh my god who?!” she deadpanned. “Is it someone that I know? An idol perhaps? Don’t tell me you like that girl from the previous rumour. I can’t recall her name, but she is pretty” it was Seul got a little dramatic over Jimin’s statement.

His eyes grew wider as he showed his protest “Hell no, not her! I am gay Ji Seul please” he shot Seul an ‘are you kidding me’ look.

“You used to like me; you are bisexual dude” Said Seul with a pout clearly offended by his remarks.

Jimin let out a soft giggle “Well, I am sorry if it is offending you. That was to cover up my gay ass” ruffling Seul’s hair in process, his eyes literally disappeared into crescent moon when he smiled.

“There is a letter that I receive from fans” his voice faded away in process. She really could not fathom the idea of Jimin falling for a stranger through a fan letter.

“Are you saying that you like a fan?” she gawked.

“Can’t you tell that I am changing the topic here? Everything that come from your mouth worth the gossip, goodness” he pinched her lips together earning a death glare from the annoyed girl.

Seul swatted his hand and frowned deeply “You are asking for it. Tell me about this mysterious fan, do you happen to know her personally? Have you ever meet her in any of your fan meeting?” she brought her knees to her chest, looking all excited to hear his story.

“Tsk, look at you. Nosy much. No, I don’t know who this person is personally. I receive her fan letter every month, and the things that she wrote in the letter inspired me” he bit his lower lips and expelled a deep sigh.

“You are falling for her writing? I don’t know you are this soft Park Jimin. She is your fan then?” Seul blinked.

“No, she is Jungkook’s fan”

“Yah, are you trying to steal his fan!” she looked up with a puzzled frown on her face.

He glowered “It is not my fault, she mixed up my name and Jungkook’s face. The first letter that I received from her had my name written on it. I thought it was meant for me until I received another letter. I realized she meant to write it for Jungkook” the content of the letter could not be forgotten easily, that was by far one of the genuine letter that he ever received from anyone.

“How can she mess it up until the end, when you are shorter than Jungkook? There was an obvious difference between both of you” she mumbled. 

Jimin eyes widened disagreed by her teasing “Ji Seul! Do I have to remind you few years back, I used to be taller than Jungkook!” he puffed his cheeks, pouting away the last line. 

Seul giggled kneading Jimin’s fluffy cheeks. “The story doesn’t match the situation, spill the beans” she demanded.

Annoyed, he really hated her sharpness, can she not be so on point over everything. It seemed impossible to lie to her face. “I stole the letter from Jungkook. One day, she sent another letter to me and Jungkook. She apologized for mistaking me as Jungkook, and that was the last letter that I ever received from her. Ever since she got her bias name right, she had been sending her letter to Jungkook correctly” Seul raised her brows in amusement.

“And that letter never reaches Jungkook right? Aren’t you sly like a snake? How long have it been?”

“About two years?”

“Yah are you insane?! You are not her ultimate member, it is Jungkook. And I thought you have bro-code even when it comes fans” she reasoned. If people think Taehyung is weird, wait till they have their first-hand experience with Jimin. This little mochi can be quite handful sometimes.

He retorted sarcastically “That is why I stop looking for her, because it is impossible to find her in the ocean full of Armys. Recently, she wrote something about her attending Wings Tour and one of our fansign during You Never Walk Alone promotion” she places her hand over her chest dramatically.

“Does it mean you keep your eyes on Jungkook’s fans during your fansign?” he moved his head slowly, scratching his not itchy head.

“I can’t help it don’t blame me. I don’t see any sign of her though, I wonder if she ever come” she snickered in response, letting out a small giggle.

“You don’t even know how she looks like, yet you pretend as if it is the biggest mission on planet” Seul teased.

Jimin simpered, looking pleased of his own decision to track down the mysterious fan “It is worth the try. I still have to apologize to her for not delivering her letters to Jungkook” Seul sent a bewildered look at his way.

“And you continue to steal her letter from Jungkook” she stated sarcastically.

“Jungkook won’t know unless you open your big mouth” Jimin squished her cheeks together messing it up a little, mimicking her action few minutes ago. She slapped his hand whining over Jimin’s unnecessary affection towards her, it spelled ‘Bullies’ on his forehead.

“Are you going to find her till the end?” his simple nod earns a loud cheer from the small girl.

“Yes, only because she is a true fan, and I want to thank her for the letters that she wrote few years ago which comfort me. I was in a rough phase when I first read her letters which she mistakenly addressed it to me. Not gonna lie, her words were just so genuine, I was comforted by them.”

Seul smiled softly, caressing his knees “You will find her one day. Update me once you find her!” Jimin took a sip of his drink and laughed at her silliness.

“Can we stop talking about me? What about you? Have you made up your mind? About Jungkook or Yoongi hyung?” her face turned sour as soon as he brought up the topic.

She grimaced “I..gave up on Jungkook” Jimin eyes shot opened as guilt consumed her. “Seul if this is about my feelings for Jungkook..You know.. you don’t have to do this” he sighed deeply.

“It is not about your feelings for him. I don’t deserve Jungkook, he deserves better than me. He is still young, and there is another amazing person out there who deserves him better than me. Don’t worry, I am not doing this because of you.” Seul gave her assurance that her decision will remain unchanged.

“But..Jimin..after learning the truth about your true feelings, I cant just go behind your back and date him when I am aware about your feelings. That is selfish. You and Jungkook are still possible” she giggled at her own remarks earning a dissatisfied glare from Jimin.

“How thoughtful” Jimin responded bitterly. In all honesty, he loathed the ideas of forging her own feelings for him when she’s free to love and be loved especially with Jungkook. Again, he knew stubborn Seul would not let anything to jeopardize their friendship. She guarded Bangtan’s friendship with all her heart.

“How are you planning to tell him?” Jimin could imagine the pain that the maknae had to bear when the truth is out. Neither Seul nor Jungkook could be blame in this matter, like she said love is about you loving someone. Your mind can’t choose who you’re going to fall in love, because your heart does all the work.

A soft sigh escaped from her lips “I have to do it even it hurts” he felt his arm wrapped securely around her, making her lean against his shoulder. “Jungkook and you can handle this. We can’t please everyone, that is life. Does it mean you are choosing Yoongi hyung?” suddenly thinking again, she falls into deep silence.

For some reason her silence made him fear her decision. Seul deserved to be loved and to be in a relationship, Jimin knows how much his hyung loved this girl. Hell, if anything happens to her he would be the first one to be by her side without fail. That’s the beauty of Min Yoongi when he’s in love.

Seul smiled indulgently “Yoongi is a great man. Do I deserve him? He is too good for me” she doubted herself. Jimin noticed the uneasiness in her voice, so he got the idea who is in her heart.

“It is Yoongi hyung then” he chuckled softly.

Her face turned fifty shades red as she shook her head frantically “I didn’t say anything about choosing him!”

“But there are only two choices to begin with, it is either Jungkook or Yoongi hyung. Now, that you have explicitly rejected Jungkook, shouldn’t you be choosing hyung? Or do you have another guy in your mind” he looked unfazed by the idea of Seul liking someone else who isn’t Bangtan.

There is Jin. Seul hated herself for opening the chances for Jin.

Was she trying to be caught in another messy love web? She barely escaped Jungkook yet she’s making it hard for herself to decided when it involved Jin. Another thing was that, Jin had never mentioned his feelings openly. Was it safe to assume Jin only see her as a good friend?

This was confusing her.

She liked Yoongi, but there’s Jin.

“Drink up, I need to go back in a bit. Mother is alone since Hoon is in Daegu. Shouldn’t you be home by now? I heard you have a long day tomorrow for your comeback show” Jimin frowned when he noticed the latter tried to chance the topic. Maybe it is best to stop talking about serious thing like this and moved on to lighter topic.

“Yes, Mnet. Will you be able to come? I can get a ticket for you” she took a big slurp from her drink before opening a new drink for her to savour.

“I am sorry, I have to work tomorrow and accompanying mother for medical check-up. We finally get a donor that suit my mother, hopefully she is able to go for the surgery by the end of this month” her eyes glimmered in happiness.

Jimin clasped his hand together in delight “Really? Ahjumma finally got the donor! Seul-ah, that is good news! Let me know how it goes, I am happy for you and ahjumma” she tucked the strand of hair behind her ears.

“Thank you Jiminie. I will let you know how it goes okay?” Jimin was satisfied by the news and now that both of them had finally spent their first alone time as a friend together, it was even precious. They stayed for thirty more minutes finishing their snacks and non-alcoholic drinks since Seul couldn’t really take alcohol, the reason why they ended up drinking sodas.

 ---------------

She pushed the password to her apartment and made her way inside hurriedly. To her dismay, she was welcomed by the sound of her mother’s shout from the living room which sounded like she’s having a huge fight with someone.

Seul kicked her shoes hastily approaching the loud sound only to be welcomed by a horrifying sight. Her mom was pressed against the wall while she threw a fit, meanwhile a man dressed in grey suit probably in his mid-fifties had his hand wrapped around her mother throat.  

“I should have killed you ever since you decided to keep the baby” he snarled.

Seul took a moment to digest the situation and without wasting any more time, she lurched forward pulling the man away from her mother. Using her strength, she pushed the man against the coffee table and went to aid her mother.  For a man that twice her size, she sure was quite strong to be able to push him without help.

“Mom, are you okay?” her mother coughed and panted heavily. The man dusted his clothes, standing up from his feet “Finally, the princess is back” Seul glared furiously at him, while helping her mom regaining her balance.

“Who the hell are you? Get out before I call the cops!”

“Jihyun you never told her about me, don’t you? I am hurt” he stretched one of his hand out for a handshake “Let me introduce myself, I am Lee Wonsuk, your fa-“ Mrs Hwang blazed in fury stopping the man before he could finish his word.

“KEEP YOUR FILTHY MOUTH SHUT!” the older woman outburst surprised Seul leaving the girl in daze. She was desperate to know who this man in front of her for her mother is to be this furious.

The man raised his hands with a mischievous look in his eyes “Alright, we will not talk about this tonight. You know Jihyun, you can’t keep this secret forever.  I will come to claim what is mine soon” his eyes then landed on Seul, making the girl feel smaller under his gaze. It sent chill down her spine.

“Nice to see you Ji Seul” dumbfounded by the situation, Seul watched the man disappeared from their vicinity and turned to face her mother.

“Mom, are you alright?” she held her arms, sitting her down on the couch. “Are you sure we just let him escape? You almost got killed!” Mrs Hwang shook her head weakly, leaning her back against the couch.

Seul went to get a glass of water and returned almost immediately by her mother side “Who is he? He seems to know you” the older woman smiled meekly, placing the glass on the coffee table.

“He is not important Seul, forget about him. He is just an old man with rage” displeased with her mother’s ambiguous answer, Seul did not stop her interrogation until she got the answers that she wanted.

“I don’t believe you, no- I choose not to believe you at all. Enough with secrets, this is your life we’re talking, what if he returns and hurt you? For once, can you treat me like a real adult, I can handle this!” Seul sighed lightly.

There was a long silence between them for a moment. “Are you going to make me wait?” she grew impatient. No matter what happens, today is the perfect day to learn the bitter truth, even it is hurt at least she’s no longer living in the dark.

The older woman muttered lowly finally unravelling the secrets that she kept for years from Seul. “Twenty-two years ago, a month before my wedding with Hoon’s father, I was raped” Seul stared at her in utter disbelief, shaking her head.

“By who?” she squished her mother’s hand, giving her strength to continue her story.

“Lee Wonsuk, he is your father’s best friend. And there was another man with him that night. I received a call from Wonsuk, that Hoon’s father got into a fight and was badly injured. I went to his place and the last thing that I remember was seeing his face in front of the doorstep. Then I blacked out. The next morning when I woke up, I saw two naked bodies beside me” she started to sob.

Seul swallowed the knot on her throat, weary with the weight of her mother’s grief. She wondered how she could bear the pain alone all those years. She embraced her mother tight, “I am sorry that you have to go through that pain alone, mom” her tears finally cascaded down swallowing all the pain at once.

Mrs Hwang held her lovely daughter close to her “That…man..is he my father?” praying hard inside, Seul really hoped the things that came from her mother contradicted to what she had in mind.

Expelling a long sigh, she looked empty and worn out. Seul gulped down a huge breath of air through her mouth, because she was afraid to hear the truth. Even though, she realized it was not something that she can simply deny knowing they were sharing the same blood.

“I don’t know.. I couldn’t remember that night, I was drugged. He came to me out of the blue and claimed that you are his. I…dont want to trust him.. You are mine, my daughter. Even though, if he is your father, I will not let him come near you. Seul, stay away from him. He is planning to take you away from me” she said, her voice containing a hint of panic.

“I won’t let him take me away from you, I promise. You and Hoon are the only family that I have. Mom, don’t stress yourself. You are not well, we will talk about this later. You need to rest” she took her cold hand in hers, stroking it gently giving a little heat to the freezing hands.

“Are you alright?” Mrs Hwang asked worriedly. She was concerned of her daughter’s mental health though Seul had stopped taking medicine for her depression, still it could relapse.

Seul glanced over at her mother, secretly wiping her tears “I will be fine, don’t worry about me” she gave her a reassuring smile. The pain that she felt was nothing if she were to compare it with her mother, it was best to keep it to herself.

She pressed once more not convince with Seul response “Seul-ah, don’t keep it to yourself, cry if you want to cry, scream if you are angry, that is what normal people do” she caressed her cheeks softly in hope Seul would say something about her resentment. To her dismay, she remained stoic.

“It is okay, I am fine” Seul left a soft kiss on her forehead before stood up from her seat.

“Where are you going Seul?”

“I need some time alone, I won’t be late. Get some rest alright? Don’t wait for me” her weak smile was another way to indicate ‘no, im not okay please go after me and save me’ . In this situation, Mrs Hwang tried to find a solution more like somebody to ensure she would not do anything stupid.

She quietly grabbed her purse and made her way to the door leaving her mother who seemed about to lose her mind seeing her only daughter disappeared beyond the door. Pushing herself up from the couch, she grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contact. Hwasa or Wongeun were the best choice that she had, Seul needed someone by her side.

In fact, Mrs Hwang knew her daughter would not express her pain openly to anyone even with her, she was very conscious of what she’s about to say. To see how she fought back and recovered from her depression back then was a miracle.

However, that doesn’t mean it wont come back to haunt her.

Her eyes stopped at that one name in her contacts, the exact person that could be another miracle in Seul’s life. Without further ado, Mrs Hwang pushed the green button and waited for her calls to be answered.

“Yoongi-ah, it is ahjumma. I need your help..It is about Seul..”

This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2021. All Rights Reserved

[sherlollydramoine]

Detroit

Prompt 15: “not interested, thank you”

Fandom: Rami Malek/Need for Speed Movie

Pairing: Finn X Reader

Word Count: 2052

Warnings: Language, Alcohol consumption, Predatory Male Character (don’t worry–he gets his), Fist fight.

Here’s the follow up that was much requested to Broken Promises (HERE). Didn’t have time to edit this so please don’t mind my mistakes.

It had been just over a year since you’d walked out of his life away from everything that you’d ever know to start fresh. A good friend of yours from college worked for some big time corporation in Detroit whom upon hearing about what had happened and your need to start fresh had recommended you for a position. Everything was a blur after the interview having been basically hired on the spot and you needed to move quickly. The company itself owned several apartment buildings and was able to provide you housing for six months until you’d been able to secure one on your own. They’d been generous in allowing you three weeks to start, which enabled you to gather the remnants of your life with Finn, and put them on a truck.

You’d been unable to face him without feeling some kind of guilt. You did just walk out offering no explanation, after angrily expressing your frustration with his broken promises. Once you’d left there was no going back for you, you’d purposely fallen out of touch with everyone to avoid any updates on Finn. 

“Hey, YN, boss needs you to run some files down to the second office,” your co-worker and roommate Alicia informed you as she perches herself on the corner of your desk crossing her legs over each other, her heel clacking against the faux wooden front of your desk. You kept clacking away at the business email you’d needed to finish typing, hitting spell check, then sending it off to digital transmission land.

Looking up at her nodding your head, you hated this corporate job with every fiber of your being, but it more than adequately paid your bills. Alicia was the only friend you’d made since your move to Detroit. The two of you bonded quickly over the fact that in the main office of this company, you were only two of three women.

 “Yeah, sure I’ll run em down anyway since I’m out to lunch in about ten minutes anyway. Anybody need anything from the other office while I’m there?” you ask, you hated going down there. The fellas who were employed in the secondary office were far less refined than those on the top floor and were prone to make rude or outright lewd comments. The only man in the other office that never was rude or lewd was the actual office manager Doug, a kind man in his late forties that had a wife and four children.

“I don’t think so. At least no one has said anything to me about it. There is something you could do for me though?”

“Yeah sure Leesh what is it?”

“Could you give me the scoop on one of the newer guys down there? I heard some rumblings that he was gorgeous. Can’t remember his name though, Jen said he was kind of flirty in a goofy way and he talked about cars a lot.”

With a small laugh and a roll of your eyes, you agree to give her the scoop on the new hire, though a small part of you felt sad. That description could fit any number of men but it also aptly described your ex and it made your heartache a little bit. She wasn’t sure what cubicle he was located in but you figured it probably wouldn’t be overly tough to spot them. New hires were easy to spot: Ill-fitting suits, slightly tense, and they never seemed to know exactly what they were supposed to be doing.

Alicia gives you a big smile and then ambles away back towards her desk buzzing her boss to make sure that he had the files ready to go for her. You watch as she disappears into her boss’s office for a couple of minutes reappearing with a stack of manila files in her hand.

“Here ya go, darling. The top six files need to go to HR and then the rest go to Doug. I’ll see you after lunch.”

Pushing back from your desk and standing up, taking a moment to stretch as it had been way too long since you’d seated hunched over a computer answering emails for the last several hours. Taking the files from your friend you trek towards the elevator bank humming a song that had been stuck in your head. Dropping off the necessary files to HR and then getting back on the lift to drop off the last stack downstairs before your lunch break.

“Hey Doug,” you said with a friendly smile. “These are all yours,” you say as you set the large stack of manila folders stuffed to the gills with who knows what paperwork in his ‘INCOMING’ tray.

“Thanks YN, how’s it going upstairs?”

“Oh you know, the same ole same ole. I just do as I’m told,” you laugh out. You start walking back towards the door, “Anyway, I gotta go but let me know if there is anything that you need from upstairs.”

As you walk out of Doug’s office you catch a glimpse of a man with very familiar curly hair and your heart drops. You couldn’t help but stare thinking maybe you’ve hallucinated or if this was really happening. The man must have felt your eyes on him because when he looked up both of you gasped in shock.

You didn’t wait around for him to react instead sprinting down the corridor to the elevator. Trying to calm your breathing as you rode the elevator down to the main level of the building, walking across the marbled floors, and out the door as fast as you could.

What the fuck is he doing here? You thought. How fucking dare he come all the way to Detroit. He has no business being here.

After your second cup of coffee, you came to the realization that It didn’t matter as you likely weren’t going to see each other very often, you could do this. You were an adult after all. Instead of grabbing lunch, you grab another coffee and then head back upstairs to your office deciding to cut your lunch break short.

The rest of your day was spent working furiously not even realizing when it was quitting time until Alicia tapped on your desk with her perfectly manicured nails. 

“Bitch, we’re going out!”

“Do I have to Leesh?”

“Yes, yes, you do. You never did give me the deets on the new guy. Is he as handsome and flirty as Jen said he was?”

“Yeah. He is, he’s also my fucking ex,” you respond dryly, watching her face morph from curious to curiouser. 

Grabbing your bag and following her to the elevator making the quick decision that you’d go out. If there was ever a time when you needed a strong drink and some possible casual sex, it was tonight.

 Alicia ends up taking you to one of your usual spots. As was common for the place it was crowded and loud full of other ‘suits’ wanting a little bit of fun on a Friday night. After scoring you both a prime spot to hang, she flings her bag onto the seat next to you and flounces off. Her red curly hair bouncing as she dances along to the beat of some heavily auto-tuned pop song that was blaring through the speakers. 

Sitting back in your chair watching the random groups of people taking shots, sipping beers, out for nothing but another convivial Friday night.

In your observations, you failed to notice when Finn walked in with a group of co-workers still in his suit and tie. He fidgets nervously with his tie, loosening it while talking to one of your other co-workers.

Just then Alicia re-appeared with a small tray of assorted shots carefully setting it down to avoid sloshing the amber colored liquid over the shot glasses. 

“Uh-oh babe, looks like you’re in for a heck of a time tonight,” she warns, tilting her head in the direction of Finn.

You look up in time to see Finn walk past your table, your eyes briefly catching before you lower yours, grab a drink off the tray, and slam it back. 

“Fuck this night!” you yell out, grabbing another drink and repeating. Twenty minutes and five shots later you were definitely feeling good. 

Grinding against Alicia on the dance floor giggling with each other forgetting all about the issue of your ex being in the same space as you. 

Leaving the dance floor behind under the guise of thirst, Alicia goes back to the table while you grab another round of drinks. While waiting an attractive man you’ve never seen before turns to you to strike up conversation apparently, not really wanting to deal with any of that you turn your body away. Dealing with men right now was not necessarily high on your list of priorities since you were already a few shots deep.

“Hey gorgeous, let me buy you a drink?” the stranger asks. 

“Not interested, thank you,” was the only thing you could think of to say. Inwardly cringing at how rude that sounded but at the moment you couldn’t be fucked to care.

“C’mon, what could it hurt? It’s just one drink,” he responds with a tone that made you suddenly angry.

“Yeah? One drink? And then what, mister? Then another one, and another until you’ve got me so drunk that you can take me home and use me in whatever way you see fit because somehow I owe you something. No, no, no. I don’t want your fucking drink!” you were yelling now stamping your feet looking very much like a toddler throwing a tantrum in the middle of a crowded club, and the handsome stranger had the nerve to look pissed off.

“Now gorgeous that-”

“She said no man, why don’t you leave her alone,”a familiar voice sounded from behind you. 

“Oh and what are you gonna do about it pipsqueak?,”the man challenged.

Rolling your eyes at the sudden testosterone fueled fight that you can feel is about to happen.

“Nothing, I’m just letting you know that my girlfriend isn’t interested in your drinks. She’s an independent woman capable of buying her own.”

The bartender returns with your drinks, eyeing both Finn and the stranger, the aggression radiating off of the both of them. It had been a year but you could clearly see Finn with his chin up in definance, shoulders squared, strong arms tense, and fists balled. A stare down between the two until the man in the suit swung at Finn, hitting him square in the side of the head. 

Finn might be to most men considered small but he was tough, having worked as a mechanic for most of his life. He had way more muscle packed under his suit than it looked like he did. 

Finn stumbled backward, hand coming up to the side of his face where the asshole had struck him. Abandoning your drinks in favor of subduing Finn, you launch yourself at him and doing the only thing in the moment that you could think of to do, you press your mouth to his. It only took his brain approximately three seconds for him to go from aggressive to horny.

His arms wrapping around your waist pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, you moan into his mouth giving into the warmth of him. The alcohol you’d consumed making your brain foggy, slowly processing what is happening. You break the kiss without warning hoping that whatever the hell that was, the spark that you had felt would fizzle out. 

Forgetting completely about the drinks you make your way back to your table grabbing your bag ignoring the look on Alicia’s face as you then make your way out of the club in a stunned confusion.

“YN?” you heard Finn call out.

You whirl around, nearly stumbling in your half drunken state, “What Finn?”

“Do you-need some help?” he asks, unsure of how he should proceed.

“You know what, why the fuck not.”

You barely remember walking home with Finn in tow but when you woke up in the morning with Finn still in your bed a slow smile spread across your face. There would be worse ways to wake up on a Saturday morning.