#like no….i can’t. don’t make me. it’s too painful it’s too much.

[salty-autistic-writer]

Buck sits on a hospital bed and looks down at his bandaged hands. Mild burns. They add to the considerable amount of smoke inhalation that makes his throat feel as dry as sandpaper. At least his coughing already got better. Buck's doctor assured him he would be able to leave soon. Too bad there's no home he can return to. 

He stares at his hands and feels … numb. It happened so fast. So fast, it almost seems like a dream. But it’s real. And everything still smells like smoke.

His loft. It’s gone.

In the middle of the night, flames consumed the walls in that scary astonishing speed he’s so well familiar with. And he couldn't stop it.

So many memories. Burnt down to ash. Buried underneath rubble. Gone.

A light knock at the doorframe makes him perk up. Buck expects to see Maddie who left to get some water and a snack. Or Chimney. Or Hen. Or Bobby. But it’s neither one of them.

“Tommy?” Buck looks up, too surprised to prepare himself for the pain he feels when he actually sees Tommy. For the first time in weeks. “What … what are you doing here?”

“I … Howie called me,” Tommy says, avoiding direct eye contact.

“Of course he did,” Buck mutters, looking back down at his hands, picking at a loose thread. Chimney. The ever-hopeful matchmaker.

Tommy clears his throat. “Are you okay?”

Buck flinches. The soft tone with which those words are spoken feels like a punch to his gut.

Are you okay? 

Okay. 

Anger wells up inside Buck’s tight chest like dark ice water, rising to the surface of his mind and fading out all the sadness. Buck glares up at Tommy. “Seriously? That’s what you’re asking about? After weeks of silence. Of nothing. You dare to show up here just like that and ask if I’m okay?!”

It’s Tommy’s turn to wince, his eyes widening slightly. “I’m sorry.”

Somehow, that only makes Buck even angrier. He knows it’s true. Honest. He knows that Tommy cares. And he kind of wishes Tommy wouldn’t. But here they are. Still care about each other way too much.

Tiredness creeps into the murky combination of anger and sadness.

“It burnt,” Buck says quietly.

“What?” Tommy asks.

“My scrapbook. It burnt. All the pictures too. The pictures I put on the fridge. And now I have nothing left.” Buck can feel the tears coming. He doesn’t want them. Doesn’t want to cry in front of Tommy. “All the memories I started to collect. They’re gone.”

I used to look at them. I used to remember the time when I thought I was finally on my way to happiness.  

“It’s all gone,” Buck breathes. And then he really cries.

An ugly sob that escapes his lips. And he hates it. Hates it so much. But he has no energy left to hide.

“Evan,” Tommy says, barely audible. And even though the sadness is suffocating him, Buck has the space for a relieved sigh. Not Buck. Still Even. And it still sounds so right … How does it sound so right after all the wrong directions their path took?

The bed dips as Tommy sits down beside Buck, hesitantly putting a hand on his heaving back. “It’s not all gone,” Tommy says.

Buck wipes at his burning eyes. “It’s not?” He asks, doubtfully.

“No. I … I’ve been collecting memories too. I can share them with you. If you want them,” Tommy says.

“That would be great,” Buck admits, trying to take a deep breath through his stuffed nose with a grimace. “Because … Because they really make me happy. The memories.”

“They do?” Tommy asks, his hand still on Buck’s back, but apparently not daring to move. “Don’t they make you … angry?”

“Not really. Sometimes they make me a little sad. Because I start to think of what could have been,” Buck says. “I start to picture all the happy memories the future might have given me.”

“But you don’t know if those memories would have been happy. What if … What if that future turns out to be so painful that you end up wishing you wouldn’t have lived through it in the first place?” Tommy asks, his voice strained. “Aren’t you scared of what you can’t know?”

Buck shakes his head. “No. I can’t live like that. The future isn’t set in stone. And as long as I think the memories I want to make are worth fighting for … Things will be alright.”

We would have been alright.  

Tommy’s hand is burning him. But when it retreats, Buck almost tells him to put it back. Maybe that’s pathetic. But he can’t find the energy to care.

Tommy is silent for a long moment. He seems lost in his own thoughts, his fingers rubbing over his jean-cladded knees in rhythmic movements.

Buck glances at him. Through a blur of his lingering tears, he suddenly realizes that Tommy looks … rough. 

His edges are sharper. The lines on his face seem deeper. There are shadows under his eyes and he’s close to growing a beard. 

And maybe that’s pathetic too, but Buck suddenly wants to hope that Tommy is feeling that same ache Buck has been feeling for such a long time now. The ache that forces him to bake. To keep his hands busy and his mind empty.

He wonders. What is Tommy doing to soothe his ache?

Buck almost asks.

But before he can, Tommy gets up. He clears his throat. “Are you staying with Maddie and Howie?”

“Yeah,” Buck says quietly. “For now. I guess.”

Tommy nods. He’s chewing on his lower lip. Lingers. Seems like there’s something else he wants to say.

And the silence stretches like a rubber band. The tension is almost palpable in the room.

Finally, Tommy says, “If I would text you in a few days. Would you read it? Would you read it all?”

“I would,” Buck says, remembering the bubbles. “I promise,” he adds.

Tommy exhales shakily. “Okay. Alright. I’m truly sorry, Evan. For the loft. And for what you lost. I can't change what happened. I can’t give the past back to you. But whatever happens, whatever you do after you read what I am going to write, I will give you everything I have. So that you can start a new collection.”

“Thank you,” Buck says, his throat tightening.

Tommy nods. He starts to walk out of the room with slow heavy steps.

Before he can disappear, Buck works up the courage to say, “Tommy. Wait.”

Tommy stops, glancing back at Buck.

“Are … are you okay?” Buck asks.

Tommy’s brows furrow with surprise, but then his eyes soften. “Honestly? No. And I haven’t been in a long time. But I am finding ways to keep the hope alive,” he says. “Goodbye, Evan. Rest well.”

And then he really leaves.

Buck stares into the void and the ache is back. But the pain has a note of hope in its bite. Maybe it’s the same kind of hope Tommy was talking about. And maybe he shouldn’t allow himself to feel it. But he can’t help it.

Apparently, his heart, even though covered in the ash the night left behind, is still convinced that the future he pictured is worth fighting for.

(AO3 Link)

[monzamash]

★ bargain bin — lando norris

coming clean part II lando norris x you —no warnings, just angst (the spice will be back next time, i promise) read part I here requested by anon; "sex while there is the background noise of a rainstorm outside"

“you can only come in if you promise we’re not going to fight.”

lando nodded, eyes soft. he looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days. you didn't know that he had only flown home from a triple header yesterday, you swore once the break up happened that you wouldn't worry about him anymore. but of course you did, secretly checking the race results, betrayed by your curiosity.

“the last thing i want is to fight with you,” he replied, barely above a whisper as you took a step to the side and allowed him into your apartment. 

he was dripping wet from the storm outside, immediately ditching the bomber jacket hanging from his shoulders and kicking off the boots covered in your freshly cut lawn. he was apologetic about bringing the rain into your quaint apartment — he felt safer here than in his own place in monaco. he hated it there now, without you, swearing up and down that nothing but resentment and pain lived in those hallowed walls. 

seeing him in the flesh felt different to what you expected. your heart clenched as he leaned against your couch, hands stuffed into his hoodie and dishevelled curls sweeping across his furrowed forehead. being in the same room for the first time in months changed everything, all the fears you’d built up in your mind melted away and the deep regret of letting go of someone so kind and generous churned in your stomach. 

“you look tired, lan.” 

the nickname caught his attention, eyes locking in on your expression to see how genuine you were — hoping to god you were giving him the same look you gave when you were together. 

“i don’t even know how i managed to drive over here to be honest — just can’t sleep anymore,” lando grumbled, feet shuffling on your carpet. 

“then we should go to bed…” 

his eyes widened in surprise at your suggestion, “wha- are you… are you sure?” 

you nodded and reached out for his hand, “come on.” 

lando followed closely behind, heart thumping in his chest as you closed the bedroom door and walked to your closet, “i still have some of your clothes here,” you whispered, handing him a baggy shirt and a pair of shorts.

“thank you…” he managed to squeak out, tears slightly forming in his eyes, “you always look after me better than anyone else.” 

“i know you’d do the same for me if i was struggling,” you stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as you exited the bathroom in your pyjamas. 

lando sighed and held his tongue. all he wanted to do was tell you how beautiful you looked and how much he appreciated your caring nature. instead, he crawled into bed beside you and rested his weary head on the pillow. the sound of the thundering storm outside your window would have been enough to lull him to sleep, especially with the warmth of your body so close to his. but he didn’t want to sleep, not with so many thoughts swirling around his busy mind.

“how have you been?” he asked, causing you to look over at him with a chuckle.

“i thought you were tired…”

lando shrugged and attempted to disguise his small smile, “i was but like i said in my text — i miss you a lot. miss talking to you and hearing your voice…”

“sounds like you’re down bad.”

“so bad.” he quipped back, shuffling closer to you like a magnet. 

you shook your head and turned onto your side to face him completely, “i miss you too.” 

“yeah?” he almost sounded shocked, playfully so but there was a hint of genuine scepticism in his cracking voice.

“yeah. miss a lot of things about you…”

“like what?” he taunted. 

“just shut up and kiss me, you dork.”

lando didn’t need to be told twice as he closed the small space between you, scooping your waist into his arms and holding you tight. your noses bumped before your lips made contact, making your both giggle as he kissed you into the mountain of pillows.

a loud crack of lightning outside your window made you jump, instinctively pulling him even closer than humanely possible as his lips travelled down your neck — the rumbling of thunder murmured in sync with your heart beat. it felt like the first time you’d met all those years ago, so young and stupidly in love. 

“i love being with you during storms like this… makes me feel safe.”

“i’ve got you and i’m not going anywhere.” he reassured sweetly in a whisper.  you sighed in relief, relaxing into his touch while bringing his face up to yours with shaky hands. there was a nervous surge of energy when you looked into his sparkling green eyes, slightly darkened by the dimly lit room— you believed every word he had said that night and sealed it with a kiss, slowly melting into the covers as he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

a/n — very rarely does this happen but the spice would not come to me for this one. i feel like the vibe just felt different and honestly, i don't know how to feel about it hahaha i realised a long time ago that writing angst doesn't come naturally even though i'm a moody bitch - maybe it's because writing is my escapism lol #end of (f1) season sale!! —see what other customers are buying ✨

[baigepueckers]

Nika Mühl X Reader

Beyond the Game

The arena surrounds you like a heavy blanket. It’s a sound you’re used to a mix of cheers, whistles, and the squeak of sneakers on the court. But tonight it feels different. Heavier. More personal…maybe it’s because you’re facing the Seattle Storm and more specifically, her.

Nika.

You spot her as soon as you walk onto the court for warm ups. She’s sitting on the Storm bench, her brown hair pulled into a sharp ponytail her posture upright and alert. Her warmup jacket is loose over her shoulders, but you can still make out the slight bounce of her knee a telltale sign she’s nervous. It’s one of the little things you’ve picked up about her over the years, first as teammates and later as something more.

Your heart clenches and you force yourself to look away. You can’t afford distractions tonight.

The two of you met back at UConn, thrown together in the intensity of one of the best women’s basketball programs in the country. It didn’t take long for you to click. Nika’s fiery energy balanced out your quieter focus and her teasing always managed to get you out of your head when the pressure felt like too much. Over time, the late night study sessions and post practice hangouts turned into something deeper. You fell in love…deep and unshakable.

But love didn’t keep you on the same team. The draft came and went, and now you’re a Las Vegas Ace while Nika is across the country in Seattle. Different jerseys. Different cities. Different teams.

You hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to face her on the court.

The first quarter flies by in a blur. Seattle’s defense is relentless and your team is fighting for every point. You catch glimpses of Nika on the bench, her eyes fixed on the game but every so often, they dart toward you. She doesn’t smile when you glance her way. She doesn’t need to. The way her gaze softens, just for a moment tells you everything.

The second quarter is more physical. You’re battling for position, driving into the lane when you can trying to keep your team ahead. You catch a rebound off a missed shot and bolt toward the other end of the court, the sound of your shoes pounding against the hardwood echoing in your ears. Somewhere in the chaos, you hear her voice…sharp and commanding as she shouts instructions to her team.

It sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve heard that voice a hundred times in practices, but this is different. Now, she’s an opponent.

By the third quarter, exhaustion is creeping in. The game is tight and the tension on the court is heavy. Every possession feels like a battle.. your body aches, but you push through. You always do. You’ve learned that from her…Nika, with her relentless fire.

The fourth quarter is where everything unravels.

You’re running hard, cutting toward the basket…when it happens. A Seattle forward steps into your path setting a blindside screen. You don’t see it coming. Her body collides with yours and the impact sends you flying backward. There’s no time to think, no time to react. The back of your head hits the court with a sickening thud.

Pain explodes behind your eyes, sharp and overwhelming. The world spins and the crowd’s roar becomes distant. You blink rapidly trying to clear the haze but all you can see are the harsh overhead lights and blurry shapes moving around you.

Through the haze, you hear your name.

“Y/N!”

It’s her. You know it’s her.

You manage to tilt your head just enough to see the Seattle bench. Nika is on her feet…her hands gripping the edge of her seat like she’s about to bolt onto the court. Her eyes are wide with panic, her mouth slightly open as if she’s holding back a scream.

She wants to run to you. You can see it in the way her body leans forward…as if the only thing stopping her is the weight of the game and the unspoken rules that keep her on her side of the court.

The trainers are beside you now asking questions you can barely process. “What’s your name? Can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?” Their voices are gentle but insistent. You try to answer but your attention keeps slipping back to her. To Nika, who hasn’t moved from her spot even though her entire body looks like it’s trembling with the effort to stay put.

You try to lift your hand a weak signal, something to let her know you’re okay…but it barely moves. She sees it anyway and her hands fly to her mouth, you can see the tears welling in her eyes.

You don’t know how much time passes before they help you to your feet. The crowd cheers as you’re led off the court…though the noise feels distant and strange. Your legs feel shaky and your head is pounding but you glance over your shoulder one more time.

Nika is still standing…still watching. Her hands are clasped in front of her chest now, like she’s holding herself together.

Back in the tunnel you’re taken to the trainer’s room for evaluation. Your head is spinning and the bright lights are making your eyes sting but all you can think about is her.

Your phone buzzes on the bench beside you. You reach for it, fumbling slightly as you try and unlock the screen…It’s a text from her.

Nika💗: Are you okay? Baby Please. Please tell me you’re okay. I can’t sit here anymore.

Your chest tightens and your eyes blur not from pain, but from the ache of knowing how much this is killing her. You type back with shaky hands.

You: I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. Play your game.

The response feels hollow but you know it’s what she needs to hear. You imagine her reading it…clutching her phone like it’s a lifeline.

The game finishes without you on the court. The trainers cleared you from anything serious…a mild concussion, bruises that will ache for days, but nothing crazy. The anxiety in your chest hasn’t eased…you know your girl. You know she’ll be looking for you the second she can.

You’re just outside the locker rooms, every passing second dragging. Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you glance down at the screen.

Nika💗: Where are you? Are you still with the trainers? I’m coming to find you.

You barely have time to respond before you hear hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Nika rounds the corner, her hair damp from a rushed shower and her Storm warmup jacket thrown hastily on. Her eyes are scanning the hallway frantic, until they land on you. She stops for a split second, and then she’s running.

Before you can say a word, her arms are around you pulling you into a hug so tight it almost knocks the air out of your lungs. She buries her face into the curve of your neck, her breath warm and uneven against your skin.

“You scared the hell out of me, ljubav.” she whispers her voice full of emotion. “I thought…I didn’t know if you were okay. I couldn’t come to you. God, I hated it.”

Her words spill out in a rush like she’s been holding them in since the moment you hit the court. You wrap your arms around her pulling her even closer. The tension in her body is noticeable and her hands are clutching at your jersey.

“Baby,” you murmur, your own voice thick with emotion. “I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay.”

She pulls back just enough to cup your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks. “You don’t look okay,” she says, her voice soft. “You’re pale, and your head God, your head…”

“Gee thanks babe” you tease her while covering her hands with your own. “The trainers cleared me. Nothing serious…just some bruises and a small concussion.”

Her jaw tightens and for a moment, she doesn’t say anything. Her hands drop to your shoulders, holding you at arm’s length as her gaze hardens. “Don’t you ever do that to me again Y/N, you hear me?”

You blink at her surprised by the sudden intensity in her tone. “Do what?”

“Scare me like that” she says, her voice sharp but cracking under the weight of her emotions. “I couldn’t move, baby. I couldn’t come to you when you were lying there and it was killing me.”

Her words hit you, the raw vulnerability in her voice. You reach for her hands, squeezing them tightly. “Nika, you didn’t do anything wrong. You were there in the way I needed you to be. I saw you. I felt you.”

She frowns and she shakes her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “You’re not allowed to get hurt like that again” she mutters, her voice quieter now but no less serious. “I don’t care if we’re on opposite teams. I’ll get ejected if I have to. I’ll run across the court next time.”

You chuckle softly, the sound broken but genuine. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

Her lips press into a thin line but you can see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners. “You think I’m kidding babe?”

“I know you’re not.”

The two of you fall silent for a moment, the noise of the arena and the post-game chaos fading into the background. She leans down to kiss you, it’s passionate and intense. It makes you melt against her.

“I love you,” she says suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You know that, right?”

Your chest tightens, and you nod, leaning into her touch. “I love you too. Always.”

She swallows hard and pulls you back into her arms, holding you like she’s afraid to let go.

[galactic-magick]

Cosmic Love: Viktor/Machine Herald x Reader

Summary: You try to resist your corrupted lover, but you ache too much for his touch that you can’t refuse any longer.

Words: 1.0k

Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, no pronouns but reader has afab anatomy

Author's Notes: As promised, here is the galaxy quaking, star bursting, 5th dimensional, cosmic anomaly Viktor smut. Takes place between when Jayce tries to kill him and when he goes through the full Machine Herald transformation. Hope you enjoy.

-

He’s been calling to you.

You’ve been ignoring the echoes, ignoring the voices of those he controls. You told him you want no part of it, that you won’t stand by his side if he continues down this cultist path. But even still, he finds ways to continue begging you, sending his followers your way and speaking through them. He pleads for you to join him, to experience the higher awareness and power he has gained. But you must stay strong.

After several months, the cult followers completely lose their humanity, becoming lifeless white and gold husks akin to an army of mannequins. They all look the same, retaining no glimmer of individuality, only the great Machine Herald’s voice to be heard.

As expected, one of them attempts to gain your loyalty back once again, breaking into your house and talking as a mechanized version of the man you once loved.

“I give you one last chance to join me,” it says. “I want you by my side, my love.”

“Viktor...what you’re doing is wrong. You know I can’t do that.”

The form he possesses steps closer to you, metal fingers brushing your cheek. You shiver, but you don’t turn away. You’ve yearned for his touch again for so long, that even this form of him makes you question your answer. His fingers are placed so meticulously, gliding down your neck, your breasts, your hips. It’s so easy to imagine it’s Viktor’s face you’re gazing upon, covering up the blank slate that’s actually in front of you.

“If you won’t join me…” his voice rings clear in your ears. “Allow me to have you one last time.”

You squirm, begging every damn desire in your body to say “no” while the machine’s fingers drop ever closer to the space between your legs.

But you won’t say “no.” You want this as badly as he does, even if it means casting your better judgment aside.

“Please.” you moan.

He takes action at your consent instantly, picking you up like you weigh nothing and dropping you on the bed.

“Soon, love, I will show you all I’ve discovered,” his voice gives you chills while the white figure pulls off your pants and underwear. “But I must start with what you already know, mm?”

You nod and close your eyes, sighing heavily as two fingers tease your clit and slowly enter you. He curls them, pulsing them in and out, his thumb circling your nerves. He does it exactly like he used to, having memorized your body in such detail that he can unravel you through this other vessel. The touches are so like him, you almost forget he’s not really here with you.

You lose yourself to him like clockwork, humming as the machine’s hands crawl up to your face.

“Shall I show you what I see now, dear?”

His fingertips glow against your forehead, and you feel a shock through your system. You suddenly feel weightless, like your cognizance is no longer tied to a physical form. You see beautiful stars and nebula surrounding you, the city you came from now looking so small.

Then you see Viktor, ethereal with his hair aglow. His face is just as it used to be, his body free of worldly constraints. He takes your face in his hands again, something electric pulsing through them.

“You must understand, love,” he says. “This is my destiny. But I would hate to have to accomplish it alone.”

He caresses your form, every stroke and squeeze feeling like another orgasm. Whatever higher being or dimension your consciousness is in now, it’s too much for your physical body to process back home. It isn’t painful, per se, but it is incredibly overstimulating—eliciting more intimate sounds from your mouth.

Your fingers grasp onto his iridescent locks, screaming in ecstasy as Viktor continues to give you sensations you never thought possible. He makes love to you among the stars, your mind filling with the visions of an astral plane and glorious evolution beyond your comprehension. He wordlessly shares his dreams and desires with you and for you—a life of healing, immortality, and ascension. Stars burst around you, and your physical body has likely gone numb, with your current form not far behind.

“Viktor...it’s too much,” you cry out.

The sensations slow down, fading out of your body as you regain your ability to think again.

“This place does have quite the effect on the mind,” Viktor explains, pulling you close to him. “The longer you stay, the less overwhelming it becomes.”

“What is it doing to me?” you ask breathlessly, falling nearly limp in his arms.

“The feeble human psyche cannot grasp the transformation that must take place, and the body suffers from such extremes,” he kisses you softly, “If you are to join me, you must find me, and together we will complete the process.”

You stare into his heavenly eyes, your thumbs tracing his cheekbones, “How do I find you?”

“The Noxian has been keeping my physical body alive. You must go to her.”

“Viktor…” you exhale, his face leaning into your palm and kissing it. “I want to stay with you. I do. I just...all of this is so far beyond what I can understand…”

“I know, darling. I know,” he reassures you, running a hand over your hair, now golden just like his.

“Something just feels so wrong,” you admit. “I don’t want us to do things we’ll regret.”

He shakes his head, “Trust me, love. This is our destiny.”

Ignoring the shrieks of your conscience, you wrap your form around him, inhaling his lips desperately as you both plunge through layers of galaxies. Every nerve in your body is blaring with pleasure, chasing the high you had moments ago. It’s addictive—the sensations experienced as a cosmic power—and you realize now how Viktor could get so consumed by it. Your bodies aren’t limited to any constraints, intertwined and becoming one in every way. You feel him everywhere, his mind and matter melded with yours.

Indescribable pleasure washes over both of you in constant, unstopping waves. You feel his every thought, the need to speak quickly diminishing.

But you still yearn to hear his voice.

“Viktor?”

“Yes, darling?” his hands never leave you, again pulling you into his magnetic essence.

“I’m going to come find you.”

A smirk pulls at his lips, his voice going low.

“I look forward to it.”

[inkyarcturus]

I think there’s two ways that Harry could react to this continued mistreatment, implosion or explosion. While I love a good implosion, I think that’s a lil too much angst for the night, so explosion it is >:D (I gave u some fluff at the end)

Harry’s jealousy starts getting the better of him. He starts screaming a lil louder, mouthing off more often, disobeying Severus more.

It starts slow with Harry muttering more insults under his breath, it becomes automatic whenever he sees Severus treating one of the other kiddos.

Then, he starts rolling his eyes, sighing, huffing, nearly stomping like a child whenever Severus does something. He recognizes how infantile it all is but he just can’t seem to stop himself.

Then he starts insulting him in his face, purposefully putting the wrong ingredient in while brewing, turning in poor work, coming in late to class more often than not.

At some point he stops thinking of this as retribution for the pain hes caused/missing Harry’s abuse, or as a way of protecting his friends, and instead starts seeing it as more a desperate cry for help.

A desperate “HEY LOOK AT ME!!! IM BEING A PROBLEM, WILL YOU HELP ME NOW?”

Throughout the entire time, Hermione is watching this unfold with keen eyes. She tries warning Snape, he does not listen.

It gets so bad he starts trying to get Ron and Nev to stop going to the lil check up meetings the Snape has for them throughout the year. He notices how much he’s changed and all it does is make the feelings feel bigger and worse. He is tearing everyone else apart and himself in the process.

Everything comes to a head when Snape catches one of his comments while helping Nev. Snape asked Nev to stay after class to check up on him. They had just got done with a potions class where the two of them partnered up together and their potion exploded, causing them to get harsh burns on their arms. Harry quickly hides that he was affected by the explosion.

Snape only asks Nev to stay after, not Harry. Harry stays anyways, stalling to watch as Snape grabs some burn ointment to help Nev.

“It doesn’t hurt THAT bad, it’s just some burns you don’t have to heal him.”

Fuck.

Snapes head snaps up at him and he glares.

Double fuck.

Harry winces at his own words, still pulling down his sleeves so the burns don’t show. He regrets it as soon as the words come out of his mouth. Cuz he has the same burns as Nev and he knows they hurt like hell, he knows his jealousy is what’s speaking.

Snape looks back at Nev, done applying the burn ointment and sends him off, voice soft. He forces Harry to stay back.

The argument is catastrophic. It includes Harry’s accidental magic going haywire, it includes screaming, crying, attempts at running and too many realizations to count on Snapes side.

While Harry tries to run out of the classroom, Snape grasps at his injured arm, causing him to yelp in pain. It’s the catalyst for Severus’s noticing. He pulls Harry back and pulls his sleeve back, revealing the burn. It’s quiet, it’s still as Severus is forced to confront his own negligence.

Then he moves, quickly as he can accioing a bottle of the burn ointment (a stronger dosage, of course potter was injured worse than Longbottom) he tries his best to calm the wriggling Harry in his grasp, softly shushing him as he puts on the ointment.

Harrys sobbing trying to deny it, screaming his frustrations over why Snape just couldn’t fucking see it dammit, it’s written in his mind, in his body, in his soul.

All the while Severus just continues to softly apologize for it all in hushed tones, continuing to apply the potions, not letting him run and hide from him this time. Because while Harry is right, in a way it was obvious the entire time, his body kept the score, but his brain just couldn’t seem to let anyone see the score board.

And in the end, It is not the best, but it is better. It is a start.

(Something something, Harry ending up on snapes lap sobbing his eyes out and Snape just letting him until he falls asleep, tension gone from his body as he finally feels safe and seen)

Tw: Child abuse

While I don’t envision Harry to be a particularly jealous person in the books, I can’t help but think about certain situations with Severitus where that emotion might come out.

I especially think about it when fanfics depict Severus as a protector for abused children in slytherin or Hogwarts as a whole. I think Harry seeing how Snape treats other children compared to him would enrage him.

Just seeing everything that he could have if things were just a little bit different, if he was sorted into slytherin, or if he just had a different father, or some other insignificant thing, he could have had the love, care and protection he always wanted. He could have had someone on his side who actually fought for him, was willing to do the hard stuff for him.

But he doesn’t just get jealous of how Snape treats other children, he gets jealous of the fact that Snape FINDS OUT about the other children’s abuse. He sees how easily Severus seems to pick up on other kids flinching, hiding injuries, or peculiar behavior, taking them aside after class within the first year, first month of school. Yet, after years of knowing him, Snape seems to have no clue. He sees that and can’t help but think why not him as well, he gets so so angry.

The anger and jealousy doesn’t stick however as he just ends up thinking maybe the way the dursleys treat him isn’t so bad, after all, if the number one person in the school for detecting abuse can’t see it, maybe it’s not actually abuse. And anyways, he should be grateful the other kids have someone to go to.

And somewhere deep down he thinks it’s his fault, because he has gotten rather good at covering up their tracks over the years. How can he blame the Professor when he purposefully hides the evidence?

Anyways hope yall enjoyed this rant :D

[ttodorokiii]

aaa soft yan!shouto with a yaoyorozu!reader ‼️ reader likes him back but tries to stop him from courting them because they knew momo liked him ;(

warnings: yándèrè, guílt, mánípùlátíòn, íntènsè.

note. LOLLL HI GUYS. Enjoy this if you can I’ll try to be more active here!!!!

•••

You have always known how much your older sister, Momo, cares for Shouto.

You love your sister so much and you could never come between him and her…

But now, as you stand in the quiet corner of the living room, watching Shouto talk to Momohis attention never fully on her, but drawn toward you with an intensity you’ve never seen before the weight of what’s happening presses down on you like a crushing weight.

You like him too. You feel it in the way your heart races when he’s near, the flutter in your chest when his monochromatic eyes catch yours. It’s always been subtle at first, just a passing thought that you pushed aside, thinking it was nothing. But it’s undeniable now. He looks at you like he sees no one else. Like you’re the only one that matters.

And it terrifies you.

Because you know. You know that Momo has feelings for him,

feelings that have never been confessed but are still there, hidden beneath the surface. You know what it would do to her if she found out. And you can’t—no, you won’t—be the one to destroy her heart.

So, you try. You try with every ounce of willpower you have to push Shouto away. When he gets too close,

you step back. When he smiles at you, you turn your gaze elsewhere. You refuse to let your feelings show, afraid that the moment they do, it will ruin everything.

“YN,” he says your name with such quiet affection that your breath hitches. You look up at him, and your heart does a strange, painful twist. He’s standing too close again. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”

Your stomach churns at the thought of what he might say. But it’s more than just that.

It’s his presence, his gaze, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. It’s suffocating. It makes you feel trapped, like there’s nowhere to hide.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but…” He pauses, his expression softening, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart skips, but your mind races. “Shouto…” You bite your lip, your thoughts frantic. You can’t let this go any further. Momo can’t know.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, trying to steady your voice. “I can’t—It’s not right. You… you shouldn’t be thinking like that. Momo she, she likes you, Shouto. You should be with her.”

He watches you, and for a long moment, you swear his eyes darken,

like the cool blue has melted into something dangerous. But when he speaks again, his voice is gentle, almost soothing.

“Momo’s feelings don’t matter,” he says, his voice low, a hint of something darker behind it. “Not compared to what I feel for you.”

How dare he say that?

You feel a chill run down your spine as he takes a slow step closer. There’s a possessiveness in his tone now, something you hadn’t heard before. It’s like a whisper in the back of your mind, a warning. He doesn’t care about Momo. He cares about you.

“I know you’re trying to protect her,” he continues, his voice almost too soft. “But I’m not going to stop, YN. I won’t let you push me away. You’re mine.”

The words hit you like a shockwave, and your breath catches in your throat. There’s something in his eyes, something that has shifted—he’s not just the quiet, kind Shouto you once admired from afar. He’s something darker now. Something possessive.

“I know you’re scared. But I’ll make sure you’re never alone again,” he adds, the promise in his tone unsettling, like it’s something he’s determined to fulfill no matter the cost.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, Shouto. You don’t understand. Momo, she’s my sister. She loves you. You can’t just—”

“I don’t care about that,” he interrupts, stepping closer again, his presence suffocating. “You’re the one I want. And I’ll make sure you know that, YN.”

He cuts you off, you don’t know how to make him understand someone like him could never understand…

You can barely breathe as he stands in front of you now, his body close enough that you can feel the heat of him,

Your mind is racing, torn between the love you feel for Shouto and the guilt that gnaws at you for betraying Momo. You can’t do this to her. You can’t.

But his eyes—those eyes—are burning into you now, and the way he looks at you makes it feel like there’s no way out. It’s like he’s inside your mind, pulling at all your insecurities, your fears, your desires, until there’s nothing left but him.

“I’m not going to stop, YN. Don’t fight me,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper, and you shiver. The way he says your name, it’s a declaration. A promise.

You want to push him away. You want to scream at him to stop. You want to protect Momo, to keep the fragile peace between the two of you intact. But you can’t.

You can’t fight him, not when he’s looking at you like this. Not when he’s making it clear that he won’t let you go.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t be the reason she’s in pain.”

But Shouto just looks at you, his expression unreadable, and says one thing, his voice as cold as ice yet burning with something else.

“She’ll get over it. You’re mine now.”

And it’s in that moment you realize,

the longer you resist, the deeper his obsession grows. He’s not going to let you go. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to protect Momo, Shouto’s not going to stop.

And you wonder, with a sinking heart, if you’ve already lost.

[bobbeshwar]

18+

imagining true form sukuna prepping you to take both of his cocks…

this is the one time he chooses to be a little gentle. despite the fact that you had suggested it, he could still tell you were anxious. At first he’s calm, as his four arms circle your naked body. His touch is perfectly everywhere, one hand easing four fingers in and out of you, another squeezing one of your tits, one loosely circling your neck, and the last cupping your face, hooking a thumb into your mouth. 

your moans are muffled as you grind upon his fingers, making a mess of the sheets as you cum. 

“you’ll take me just fine.” sukuna reassures, though it sounds more like a command, he’s practically incapable of being soft. he releases his loose grip on your neck and brings the hand down to thumb at your clit, a slight smirk in his lips as you give a shocked whimper from the sudden contact. he slowly hooks a single finger from the other hand into you, relishing in the way your body trembles and you whine, “your cunt is just eating up my fingers.” 

“‘s too much,” you can barely whimper as he presses another finger in you. the feeling is mind blowing, the fullness inside you, the way his fingers practically invade your pussy, nudging at that sensitive spot that has you reeling. 

“oh you can take it.” another finger and you’re leaking, thighs trembling underneath the weight of his big body as you cum again, crying out for mercy at the overstimulation that washes over you as his fingers still ease in and out of you and thumb at your overly sensitive clit. 

“fuck, please, I can’t—”, that hand in your mouth quiets you as he shoves his thick fingers further in, slightly gagging you as you gurgle the rest of your pleas.  

“this was your idea remember?” his voice is a rumbling tease as you claw at his muscled arms. “You don’t want to be split open on my cocks?” his finger pinches at your nipple, “huh?” 

“Mmn, I do I do, ‘kuna.” You say around his fingers, so delirious and fucked out you can barely process his words, can barely feel him slipping a fourth finger inside of you. 

“good girl,” you moan at the praise, body buzzing with pleasure as his fingers fill you up. you come again, fingers digging into his arms as you groan, the force of your orgasm damn near painful. “think you’re ready to take me?”

you, fucked out of your mind do nothing but nod.

[halfwayhearted]

lamine girlfriend being so happy that he’s finally taking the time to rest, like he tells her he’s not playing and he’s not going with the national team and she almost cries because she’s always so stressed that he’s pushing himself too much

Baby, I Love You — Lamine Yamal.

Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Fem!Reader

Summary: After an intense amount of worrying about your boyfriend and his constant urge to play, he shares some news with you that leaves you feeling both worried and relieved.

Word Count: 465+

Disclaimer/s — None really, just comfort/and fluff.

A/N: And then you open TikTok and see him dancing bachata to Aventura 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ boy PLEASE.

It was nearing midnight when you received a text from Lamine asking if he could come over. It was never unusual for him to ask, but considering he had a game to practice for, you couldn’t stop the small pang of confusion that rose within you.

You opened the boy’s message and replied back quickly, ‘Hi, of course. I’ll leave the door unlocked.’

With nothing else to do but wait, you decided you’d finish up your homework, not even noticing the sight of your door slowly creaking open.

It wasn’t until you saw his figure from the corner of your eye that you gasped and jumped up, your eyes narrowing when you heard Lamine laugh.

“Lamine—no call, no text, not even a greeting!?” You exclaimed, covering your face with your hands. “Oh, my God. I can’t even look at you.”

Hearing his footsteps toward you, he uses his hands to pry your own away from your face. “I’m sorry! You said it’d be unlocked. I thought you’d be, I don’t know, waiting for me or something.”

“Well! You thought—whatever. Sit! Sit! Tell me about your day. Did something happen or…?”

Doing as told, he moves to sit on your chair, and that’s when you notice something’s wrong. It takes you a few seconds to realize, but it clicks—he has a limp. “Wait. Lamine, what happened?”

“I’m not able to play for Spain,” he grumbled.

That wasn’t what you were referring to, yet the relief you felt was unmistakable. He could rest, but at what cost? “I’m sorry. Because of that?”

Following your line of sight, Lamine offers a small chuckle and nods. “Yeah, because of that. I’m out for the break. Might be even more, I’m not sure.”

You stand up and plop down beside him. “You’ll be back. Even better and even stronger. Not that you weren’t already before. Does it hurt at all?”

“Only if I apply too much pressure on it. Nothing an ice pack can’t fix. Or help lessen the pain.”

“Ice pack,” you repeat quietly. “I’ll be right back.”

“I don’t need one now—hey,” Lamine frowned when you stand up, his hands finding both of yours. “It’s fine. Can we just… do something?”

“Sorry, of course. We can build Legos, watch a movie, a show, or just lay down. Your choice!”

“What were you doing before I came and—”

“Scared me? I was just finishing up homework.”

Your answer does absolutely nothing but make his expression morph into one of disgust, eliciting a laugh from you. “I thought so. Lay down, go on your phone, I’ll be done super soon, okay?”

“Take your time,” he hums. “Can I sleep over?”

With a shrug, you smile and say, “Well, you’re already here. I don’t really see why you can’t.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ

[lunajay33]

Why Me? Part.2

•🤎🐺🪵🍂🌑•

Summary: Bella and Y/n are twins but when Bella and Renee moved away you stayed with Charlie always growing closer with the people around La push, but when Bella comes back it’s like everything is flipped around, Bella becomes distant obsessed with the cullens, you find solace with the guys at the beach but things change after the first year and suddenly you’re all alone, will anyone come back, will Paul your best friend, your forever crush come save you from depression

Pairing: Paul Lahote x f!reader

Warnings: Depression

Part.1

•Masterlist•

Song Suggestion: Heartbeat by Nessa Barrett

Hopping down from the wolf I make my way closer to the house but before I can enter strong warm arms wrap around me I know who it is instantly

“Paul” I choke out before crumbling to the ground in tears for the second time this night , the cold ground meeting my knees his arms still secure around my hips hind chest pressing against my back hearing his cries along with mine

“Why did you leave me” I scream letting myself feel everything I’ve gone through the last month

“I’m so sorry Angel, please give me a chance to explain”

“But you hurt me so badly” my cries settling a bit seeing Sam and Emily come out the house worried

“Please I’ll do anything please” he was begging and he never begged, I nodded warily, he picked me up effortlessly and brought me into the house setting me back on the couch Emily and Sam lingering near obviously knowing what’s going on

“Is this normal Sam? For the bond to cause her these emotions to such an extent?” Paul asked from over his shoulder as he was kneeled infront of me his hands never leaving mine

“The bond can cause despair when separated but to this extent for her to be physically ill must mean you have a much deeper connection than just the bond, you can’t leave her again Paul we don’t know what could happen” the talked like I wasn’t right here and they made no sense

“What’re you guys talking about, you said you’d explain”

“I will but…….y/n how could you try to kill yourself, that would’ve devastated everyone, to lose the most precious being to walk this town”

“It was too much Paul, with you gone and Bella being preoccupied by Edward and Jacob with Bella I was alone and it just grew the pit in my heart” I sighed feeling the emotions of the day finally drain me

“Never again, I’ll never leave but what I’m going to tell you is gonna be a lot”

He told me everything, how he and Sam were wolves how it ran in their blood and only came out when vampires appeared, their truce with the cullens how I had to keep everything a secret, but most of all how I was Paul’s imprint and why he had to stay away to protect me

Everything suddenly made sense but it didn’t make it hurt any less

“Are you okay Angel?” Paul asked after the long pause that lingered in the air

I sucked in a quick sharp breath just registering everything

“But what now, will I get better, what about us what’re we now?”

“You’ll get better in time as long as we keep seeing eachother, and like I said I’ll be anything you need, your best friend, your protector, your boyfriend”

“I wanna be with you Paul, I can’t lie about it anymore, it’s always been you since day one” his warm hand caressed my cheek making some of the pain go away

“I knew it would always be you, but you have to promise to never do what you almost did tonight, even though I hate those blood suckers I’m glad he saved you in time, cause I’m never letting you go again” his head pressed against mine our lips so close

“I love you Paul”

“I love you too always”

Get home at 12 am felt different, my conscience was clear once again, me and Paul stand in the back yard as he walked me home I guess, I rode on his back as he walked in his wolf form, it was all crazy really, my best friend a shapeshifting wolf

“Can you stay the night maybe? I just don’t want you to go just yet” i ask fiddling with his fingers

“You go up to your room open the window I’ll be up”

I ran up the stairs as lightly as I could in hope to not disturb dad or Bella who was probably accompanied by Edward, then being vampires didn’t scare me atleast not them they were nice especially alice Jasper and Emmett

I flipped on my lamp and opened the window looking down to see Paul quickly climbing up the house and right through the window

“So you’re super human too”

“Still got your humour” he smiles as he huffs spreading out in my bed like usual when he comes over

Changing into pajamas and joining him in bed, it wasn’t weird we’ve been doing this kind of thing since kids

“I’ve missed this” I sighed curling up into his radiating warmth compared to the cold sheets that replaced him when he was gone

“You have no idea how much I wanted to come to you every night and make sure you were okay, it killed to have to stay away from my mate, my best friend” he sighed running his hands through my hair

“You’ll be here when I wake up right?” Worried he’ll be gone and this was all just a dream

“Always”

And he was for the rest of my life he was there every morning

Taglist: @lilredcamaro14 @cvmtitss @larissa01-blog2 @evanpetersmood @xocellyy @sbrn0905

[thedeadstoryteller1]

𝐵𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒 | 𝒵𝒶𝓎𝓃𝑒 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱 | 𝒫𝓉 . 1

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑍𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑝 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑒. 𝑃𝑙𝒶𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝑏𝑦 𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑥𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑦, 𝘩𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝘩𝑒𝑟.

𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑠: 𝐷𝑟. 𝑍𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒, 𝐷𝑎𝑤𝑛𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑟, 𝑃𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑐 𝐴𝑡𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑘, 𝐴𝑛𝑛𝑥𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑦, 𝑁𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑒, 𝐷𝑎𝑦𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚.

𝐴𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑡: 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑡

𝐸𝒹𝒾𝓉𝑜𝓇: @cordidy

“Who are you?”

“I am you, I suppose.” He whispers coldly. 

“What do you want?” I snapp. 

“Her.” 

My eyes burst open, the feeling of my heart racing in my chest causes me to sit up. The cold sweat on my forehead and the combination of heavy breathing make me shake. 

He looks like me.

He sounds like me.

But he's not me. 

He is the nightmare, the grim reaper dressed in black. 

He’s a killer, a monster, everything that I hope not to be. 

My hands are used to save lives, 

While his hands are used to take them. 

Hugging my legs close to my chest, tears running down my face as I bit my lips so no sound comes out, I try to breath in and out slowly, to contain my fear…in vain.

Don’t wake her up.

I glance over in her direction; there she is sleeping so peacefully. Even in her sleep she is beautiful.

Her hair a mess, a little bit of drool on the pillow and yet, she still manages to take my breath away. 

Looking at her makes my heart rate slow down and my breathing starts to even out.  Extending my hand to hers I try to touch her soft skin, but I quickly retrieve it, the black ice in my palms sending shockwaves of pain to my body as I race out of bed and stumble to the bathroom. 

The voices start… 

“Abomination.” 

“She only causes pain.” 

“You can’t save her.” 

“Leave her.” 

“Not worth it.” 

“Her.” 

They repeat the same words, over and over and over again. His…my  voice is louder than the others. 

Dropping to the cold tile floor my vision starts to blur and my heart rate increases again. The pain in my palms travels to my chest, cold shards of ice piercing my heart, preventing me from breathing properly as images of the Grim Reaper taking her from me, her lifeless body in his hands, then my hands flood my brain.

The fear of losing her dulls my senses.

What did I do to deserve this? I just want to help people, I’m good, I’m not a monster.

Why does it hurt to love her? I want her. She’s good for me. 

Why am I not normal? 

The cold freezing pain in my chest is too much, and I feel myself drifting away as I desperately gasping for air like a fish out of water.  

Calm down Zayne… it’s just another panic attack. Think of something, breath. 

My mind drifts to when I first saw her….

It was a sunny day.

I’d ask Mother and Father to go play with Caleb since it’s been a while since I last saw him. I wanted to show him my book about fighter planes. After agreeing, and while they were driving me there Mother told me that Caleb had a new sister. 

“A baby sister?” 

“No son, she’s a little younger than you. Her parents passed away, she’s adopted.” 

“Was it because of the Chronorift Catastrophe?” Mother and Father worked overtime at the hospital during the peak of the accident. 

I barely saw them at all during those initial weeks…

They remained silent. I knew it was my que to be quiet as well. 

Arriving at Josephine’s place, Caleb was waiting for me out by the porch, running down the stairs to greet me as soon as the car stopped.

“Zayne, look.” Caleb proceeded to show me his new ability with his Evol, taking  a small rock and levitating it off the ground. A simple swoosh, and the rock went flying into the opposite direction. “I’ve been practicing.” He smiled proudly at me. 

“It appears so, I got a new book on fighter planes. Like the ones you say you want to pilot.”  I said calmly. 

“Neeeeeerd, it better not have a bunch of words like that other one you showed me about black holes.” I shook my head, disapproving. 

“Pictures and words.” I assured him. 

“Alright, let’s look at it then. Come inside.” 

Following Caleb we made our way inside as I waved goodbye to my parents pulling out the driveway. 

I greeted Josephine politely and thanked her for having me again as she was baking cookies for us, Caleb’s grandmother telling me not to worry about it while my friend tugged at my arm and rushed me to his room. 

We sat there on the floor looking at the images of the planes, oooooh’s and aaaah’s filling the room as I read some facts out loud. 

“Caleb.” Josephine called from the kitchen. 

“Coming.” He answered, leaving for a few seconds before returning with a little black shadow tugging behind him. 

That’s the first time I laid eyes on her. 

She peaked her head off to the side, locking eyes with me and the afternoon glow illuminated her face softly. 

Her hair fell past her shoulders down to her waist, her bangs covering her forehead as her hair was parted half up half down. A cute red bow matched her jean overalls, little lambs embroidered at the bottom and white long sleeve shirt.

It was in that moment, while locking eyes with her, that I knew gravity no longer held me down.

She did.

I felt my ears turn red with embarrassment but I couldn’t move, the feeling of my heart racing in my chest distracting me from everything else around me. 

It felt like my very soul knew who she was. The feeling…indescribable for a twelve year old….

I didn't understand that what I was feeling was… love. 

“Hi.” She smiled at me sheepishly and from that moment on, I knew her smile would be the death of me and that I’de do anything to keep her smiling. 

Even if it meant I vanished in the wind. 

Feeling the cold tile floor, I’m finally able to breathe again as my heart rate starts to slow down. 

I sit up, staring at the moon outside the bathroom window before looking at my hands and arms for any new injuries. 

My palms are bleeding a bit. 

Seeing the fresh wounds on my hands among the faded ones on my arms makes me remember the first time I lost control of my evol. 

It was a few weeks after meeting her.

Caleb and I were practicing while she was playing with some flowers. 

I don’t know what happened, the ice shard flying out unexpectedly on its own accord, almost hitting her in the process. If it wasn’t for Caleb using his evol to move her out the way, the shard would have pierced her heart. 

My hand froze and the black ice crystals started to form on my arms, the cold making my skin rip as I received my first scars. 

Later that night, I saw him for the first time…..the grim reaper… 

It’s strange how my love for her causes me so much pain. 

Only twice has she seen the severity of my situation, the second time almost killing her as she tried to heal the ice crystals. 

No matter. 

I stand up and wash the fresh set of wounds on my palms, then take some water and splash it on my face. 

I face the mirror, the dark circles under my eyes visible in the moonlight. 

I know he sees me. 

I know his green eyes are looking right back at me. 

He peeks into my life, my memories and taunts me. 

I know he loves her just as much as I do. 

“You’ll never have her.” I whisper coldly, looking at my palms one last time before facing the mirror again.

“She’s mine.” 

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed. Pt. 2 with Dawnbreaker coming soon. Have a happy holidays. This is the only place I post my fics. Anywhere else was reposted without consent.

~𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒯𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇 ~

[mullet-stan101]

Werewolf Stan x Reader

Chapter 4, tw: some mentions of body transformation

Ford huffs and shakes his head, despite his annoyance he doesn’t want to leave her alone with Stan. He settles into the armchair next to the couch and scribbles in his journal as y/n aimlessly pets the big wolf. Eventually all three of them drift off, the only sound being the steady breathing of the big beast. The next morning Stan wakes up in a groggy haze, completely unaware of his surroundings…and the fact that he still has his head in y/n’s lap. He blinks and sits up quickly, blushing deep red despite her still being asleep. He groans as the motion causes his head to spin and he goes to get up but his eyes widen seeing that he’s naked under the blankets.

“Aw geesh-”

Y/n blinks slowly as he speaks and rubs her eyes as she’d fallen asleep sitting upright. She looks over, and seeing Stan that way embarrasses her just as much, flushing red.

“Oh- uh…”

Stan wraps the blanket around his waist with shaky hands as he stands, holding the blanket tight. 

“I-uh…I’m gonna change…”

A few minutes later he comes back in a t-shirt and jeans, obviously a little shaken up as he glances over to Ford.

“He drug me or something? I don’t remember anything…I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Y/n shakes her head as she stretches, her back popping as she’d been sleeping in a weird position. Despite knowing that Stan is nervous she can’t help but smile a little.

“No and no…I don’t think you’d hurt a fly.”

Stan frowns in confusion and chuckles dryly.

“Uh…you’re joking right?”

“Nope. You were a big baby.”

Stan flushes at this and despite being grateful he didn’t hurt you…his ego is bruised a little as he sits back down.

“I don’t believe you.”

Y/n laughs softly.

“You scared me at first, but once you realized Ford and I wouldn’t hurt you, you were a big sweetheart. You laid right here in my lap all night while I pet you.”

Stan rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment but his eyes soften as he hears how you comforted him.

“You did, huh? Takin’ care of the overgrown dog. You shoulda been a little more cautious.”

“Oh I was terrified at first, but it was like…you recognized Ford and I…you got my scent and it was like the flip of a switch.”

Stan smiles softly at this, breathing a sigh of relief as well.

“Well uh- thanks for not shootin’ me with a silver bullet. Lord knows Ford would…”

He trails off at this as he looks over at his twin sleeping in the corner, and y/n can see the pain in his eyes despite his nonchalant tone.

“What…what happened between you two…?” 

Stan sighs softly as he didn’t realize you could see the way he was feeling.

“It’s a long story…”

“I’ve got time…” 

An hour later the two of them sit over coffee as Stan tells his story, Ford continuing to sleep as he definitely needs it. Y/n sighs deeply as she didn’t realize the full extent of Stan’s hurt. 

“I’m really sorry you’ve had to go through all that…”

He scoffs and waves a hand dismissively as he sips his coffee.

“Ah don’t mention it, the past ten years have really been my fault. I’ve been too focused on proving myself to my pa…that I haven’t just focused on supporting myself. I’ve given up on bein’ a millionaire now…I just don’t wanna die alone in ditch.”

She nods softly and looks down at the cup in her hands. 

“Y’know…I was the same way. When Ford and I were in college we both dreamed of making a name for ourselves, famous scientists and the discovery of a lifetime. But now that I see how much Ford’s work consumes him…I just wanna be happy.” 

Stan’s eyes soften in concern. 

“Why don’t you tell him…? Why don’t you leave?” 

“Because I hoped for something…I hoped that we could just be normal…”

She trails off as she glances over at Ford sleeping, not really wanting to expose her original feelings for him. Stan of course can already tell, and he feels bad for her  and his brother…he didn’t used to be this way. He taps his fingers anxiously as he doesn’t want to steal her from Ford, but from what she’s said whatever affection she had for him is fading. Stan loves his brother, but he can’t help but be drawn to the bright girl that he’s ignoring. 

“So uh…I’ve told you my whole life story…tell me about yours.” 

She raises an eyebrow but smiles a little, despite all of the stuff he’s dealing with right now he still cares. So she tells him all about herself, the two of them talking and joking for a while until Ford wakes and shuffles back down into his lab. Stan chuckles softly as she goes into full detail about how he acted last night.

“Well I’m both embarrassed and relieved…you don’t mind dealin’ with me like that huh?”

She smiles softly as she meets his gaze.

“I don’t mind dealing with you at all…” 

Stan blushes as she meets his gaze and he feels hope blossoming in his heart. 

"You're real sweet, y'know that? You don't mind having a homeless werewolf living with you?"

She laughs softly. 

"Not when he actually talks to me...I like him a lot."

Stan smiles at this as he sips his coffee, oh he likes her an awful lot. He talks to her for a while and despite enjoying what she says he begins to zone out a bit as the words "I like him a lot" repeat over and over in his brain. A pretty girl actually likes him, better yet just someone actually likes him...And somehow these horrible circumstances have becomes better, despite his insecurities about his new condition he's slowly getting cocky. He forgets his situation and just grins at her, he's falling for this girl.

Stan finishes his conversation with y/n reluctantly as she has research to do. As Ford finally wakes up he watches as he goes into his study, following him quietly. Ford glances back with a frown as he goes to his bookcase, but stops as he doesn’t want to reveal what’s behind it.

“What do you want?

Stan frowns back, rolling his eyes. 

“Geesh you act like you’re hidin’ a dead body or something. I know you’ve got some secret lab down there, I was just wondering what you were doing.”

Ford sighs and he steps back from the bookcase.

“Stanley…this is serious research, I just don’t think you could handle it.”

Stan barks out a laugh.

“You forget that I spent last night as an overgrown dog. I’m pretty much part of your “serious supernatural research” now. Are you really just going to hide from both of us?”

Ford huffs and closes his journal roughly.

“Both of us? That early, huh? You’ve been conscious for two days, Stanley.” 

Stan raises an eyebrow, looking confused as to why that phrase made Ford upset. 

“Uh…I’m lost…what’s the problem?”

Ford chuckles dryly as he sits down.

“Don’t pull the naive card, Stanley…you think you know y/n better than me but you don’t…”

Stan rolls his eyes at this, knowing he struck a nerve, and he can already feel the jealousy in the air. 

“Oh that’s the problem. Well I’m sorry that I acknowledge there’s a second person in the house, it’s kinda hard to deal with turning into a little movie monster on your own…”

Ford sighs and he adjusts his glasses, sitting upright.

“I’m sorry…it’s just- I don’t know what I’ve done wrong to have her hate me so much…”

“She don’t hate you…”

Ford shrugs a little. 

“Maybe not…as long as she doesn’t hate me enough to leave, that’s alright.”

Stan frowns slightly at this, not liking how Ford only sees y/n as a colleague rather than a friend. But he doesn’t say anything because he can’t help but feel a little excited at this…this kind of leaves the door open for him.

“So- uh…how’d you two meet anyways?”

Ford glances up as he didn’t expect Stan to be this curious.

“We- uh…we met in college. I helped her with chemistry and she helped me with my biology courses. I suppose we were good friends at one point…”

He trails off a little as he says this and sighs.

“She’s a nice girl…you like her don’t you?”

Stan blinks in surprise, attempting to hide his blush. 

“Yeah- um…she’s pretty nice. Even if she took care of me like a pet…”

Ford chuckles softly, his mood lightening a little.

“Yes, she’s always been fond of animals, and speaking of which- do you think I could run some tests? I’d like to get some samples tonight.”

Stan shrugs as he plops down next to him.

“Yeah I guess so, as long as you don’t prick me and all that junk.”

An hour later Ford has taken some hair and DNA samples, restraining from getting Stanley’s blood at this point, even though it’s vital. He decides to try and get some tonight as well as some of the wolf’s fur. Stan isn’t fond of changing again and he can’t help but think of y/n, wondering if she’ll care for him like the night before. He doesn’t want to force her too, but it feels pretty nice to be taken care of for once, even if he can’t remember a thing.

“Hey, Stanford…? You think you got anything- for the pain?”

Ford frowns softly as he thinks, flipping through his journal.

“I don’t know…I have tranquilizers but I don’t really know if they’d work. But I don’t exactly want to use silver either. If I get some more DNA samples I might be able to see what reacts to it.”

Stan sighs in defeat. 

“So I gotta go through it cold turkey until then, huh?”

“Unfortunately yes.” 

That evening Stan sits anxiously tapping his fingers on the couch armrest. He glances over to y/n as she reads next to him, but she notices how anxious he is without looking up.

“You alright?”

Stan stiffens as he didn’t know she noticed.

“No…the suspense sucks.”

She nods and closes the book she was reading and looks at him. 

“I know…does it hurt?”

He hesitates as he tries to remember, but then the memory of body contorting and changing comes back.

“Yeah, but it’s like a crazy dream at the same time. One second I feel all of it, I can look down and see all the freaky crap that’s happening to my body, and the next- it’s like I’ve been asleep the whole time.”

“So you don’t remember anything after you’ve changed?”

“Nope, it’s like I’m knocked out.”

She frowns a little in thought, obviously wondering what part of him is conscious when he’s changed. It’s obviously a more childlike part of himself. They’re both quiet for a few moments and she glances out the window before looking back at him.

“You can stay out here with me if you’d like…”

He looks up, his eyes a little hopeful. She can’t take away the pain but he’d sure as hell feel a lot better, she cares about him more than anyone ever has.

“That’d be nice, even if it’s kinda freaky.”

She chuckles softly.

“I’ve seen walking trees, wendigos, zombies and a ton of other freaky stuff, I’ll be ok.” 

He smiles softly.

“Ok, well…thanks-” 

He abruptly stops as his hands start to shake, and he shoves them under his thighs.

“Well I guess speak of the devil…” 

Y/n frowns in concern as he starts to shake.

“Hey…hey…just relax, ok?” 

He nods quickly and grits his teeth, his eyes as fearful as they are soft.

“C-can I sit closer…?”

Her eyes soften and she nods, within a moment he scoots close. She rubs his arm a little as he takes deep breaths, and she doesn’t shy away as he groans, his body making a strange sound as he begins to grow. But her eyes widen as she looks down at his hand gripping her, already large enough as it is, it grows enormous and claws form. Fur starts to grow all over his arms and his clothes stretch and tear. He groans and shakes, his body burning as he tries to stop it even though it’s no use.

“M’sorry…it hurts…”

She doesn’t hesitate to pull him close, his head buried against her neck as he growls in pain. She rubs his back even as it grows big and covered in fur, speaking to him quietly even as a muzzle starts to press against her shoulder. 

“It’s ok, Stanley…I’m right here.”

Minutes later his body stops shaking, the enormous wolf still holding her tight, her smaller body pressed against his bulk and nuzzles her cheek with a quiet rumble, as if to say ‘thank you.’ Y/n chuckles softly as his cold nose touches her cheek and she reaches up to rub his ears. 

“You’re welcome.” 

He pulls away from her, smiling in its own way as its big brown eyes have a child-like innocence in them. He looks around the living room, empty except for y/n, and she chuckles again as she knows he’s looking for Ford. 

“He should be done with his work soon…”

A few minutes later Ford trudges up the stairs from his lab and enters the living room. Immediately Stan's ears stand up and his tail wags quickly, excited to see his brother. Ford raises an eyebrow as he stops, still surprised to see him there again. His eyes widen as without hesitation, the wolf stands on two feet and pads over to him. 

“W-when did he learn how to do that???”

Y/n laughs as Stan towers over Ford and squeezes him up in a hug. Ford stiffens as he’s pulled up off his feet, his glasses askew as he’s picked up like a ragdoll.

“What the-? Y/n help me out here!”

She takes a minute to contain herself and grins. 

“Bring him over here big boy.”

Stan grins and carries him over, plopping down next to y/n with his brother in his lap, excited like he’s his new toy. He sniffs at Ford’s glasses and coat to which his twin huffs and pushes his snout away.

“Aw, Ford be nice…he’s just curious.”

“Curious, my behind! I don’t like being squeezed like a toy!” 

Y/n smiles softly as Stan holds his brother tightly, as if afraid to let him go. Despite the innocent look in his brown eyes, it’s obvious that he wants to protect his brother. Ford sighs as he eventually loosens his hold, and he gets up to sit on the chair, Stan of course watching to make sure he stays close. With Ford out of his grasp he smiles at y/n and reaches a paw over to tug her close. She chuckles and sits close to him, his head immediately going back into her lap as it’s obvious that’s his spot now. Once Ford is settled he pulls out his journal and starts writing fervently.

“It seems he’s biped and quadruped…though I can’t tell if he has a preference yet.”

Y/n lifts up one of Stan’s paws and looks at it closely, rubbing the soft pads. Despite the claws and usual black pads of a wolf or dog they’re on his palm as well as one on the bottom of each of his fingers.

“Huh… he has five fingers too…I didn’t notice that last night.”

Ford nods and writes this down as well, Stan just smiling blissfully as he’s happy to be touched and cared for, even if he has no clue what they’re talking about. 

[sticcmann]

i compiled my season 2 thoughts

its just not that good! its really not that good! Compared to season 1 of arcane, it really is a downgrade, which is such a shame. It's too much crammed into one and I have some other points.

In no particular order, first I'd like to talk about the recontextualization of the relationships between Silco, Jinx, Vi and Vander. The Felicia bits were UNNEEDED!!! Silco adopting Jinx because he projected onto her and Vander adopting those kids because he realized his failures was so beautiful. The fact that Vander and Silco were their godfathers already does a great disservice to Claggor and Mylo.

The letter doesn’t make sense at all either. The way Vander says “there’s worse things than enforcers out there” does not say “yeah I kind of want that guy back” (+ Benzo being mad at Silco too) and so the good timeline au also doesn’t make sense. The two concepts of “oo yeah this guy is bad I don’t want to associate with him anymore” and “oo yeah what I did to this guy is bad” can coexist in Vander’s head seeing as he says that he can’t forgive himself for drowning Silco. Maybe I’m just reading too into it and Vander is alarmed about Silco because he’s hearing rumours of his uprising or something. The whole woman died I’m angry and this is our big drama thing is just not a good explanation still.

Second, the sidelining of the oppression storyline. That was easily the most compelling theme for me in season 1, and the fact that it’s resolved by a banding together to defeat the real enemy plot is lazy and frankly disappointing. I’m sure others can give a better take on this with more problems but I’m not qualified enough.

Third. Jinx’s self sacrifice. Jinx was such a good representation of mental illness, and it pained me to see her go. The arc leading to her death does not make sense! Was Isha’s death for nothing? Jinx learning to appreciate life and healing from her trauma only for her to never get the satisfying conclusion of a happy life is cruel. My personal opinion is that she was written off to eliminate problems for Caitvi.

Lastly, did not like how Ekko saved the day with the saving the day machine. Cheap.

Now for some personal takes which you can ignore:

Viktor’s new design sucks and they should have given him cybernetic shit for more robot. I like the cyborg mage a lot. Also he didn’t get to be evil long enough.

Warwicks design also sucks and they should give him the wolf head but I hear rumours they will so I won’t dwell on it.

Not enough dictator Caitlyn! She got redeemed too easily. Also caitvi happened too fast frfr like dude they had domestic violence? And gas? And the almost killing a child thing? And the jinx imprisonment thing? Jinx was literally about to end it all and these two are going at it in jail.

Ambessa is a weak villain. That’s it

Tl dr

Silco Vander and Felicia bits are not great

Sidelined oppression

Sidelined Jinx’s arc

Time Machine deus ex machina is not great

Viktor and Warwick look like ass but that’s just my opinion

Bad caitvi resolution

Ambessa is not interesting

Now I can only hope that they don’t mess up on the Noxus spin-off, because I’m really looking forward to that! Mel interacting with the hardened politicians of that region would be so interesting to see. Swain is one of my major favourites and I wonder what they’ll do with him.

[amalythea]

aly!! !!! congratulations on being older than you were a year ago 💚 it has been a pleasure to be your mutual...

i would enjoy (cry over) prompt 47: "given your history, i should have known better." with alhaitham.... angst (；∀；)

「 alone 」

⤷ info: alhaitham x gn!reader || angst, hurt/no comfort || wc: 626

⤷ warnings: messy break-up, mentions of injury

⤷ extra: june!! hello hi thank you so much :> it's been great knowing you, as well! I hope you like this hehe

The room was too quiet. Alhaitham stood by the window, his back to you, staring out into the dark expanse of the Sumeru night. The moonlight cast long, sharp shadows across the room, accentuating the tension that hung in the air.

You sat at the table, your hands clenched into fists on the surface, trembling with an emotion you couldn’t name—was it anger, or something closer to despair? Your voice broke the silence, brittle and strained.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

He didn’t turn around. His reflection in the window barely moved, save for the faint rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. "It wasn’t necessary for you to know."

Your chair scraped against the floor as you stood abruptly. "Not necessary? You were ambushed. Injured. You could’ve died! And you think I didn’t need to know?"

"You couldn’t have done anything about it," he replied, his tone as flat as ever. "What would telling you have accomplished? Other than adding unnecessary worry to your life?"

Your breath hitched, your hands shaking as you gripped the back of the chair. "Unnecessary worry? Alhaitham, I care about you. Knowing you were out there, hurt and alone—do you even understand what that feels like?"

"You were overreacting," he said, finally turning to face you. His expression was calm, his teal eyes cool and detached. "I handled the situation. I always do. This isn’t something to dwell on."

You stared at him, your chest tightening with every measured word that left his mouth. "How could you say that? How could you stand there and act like this didn’t matter?"

"Because it didn’t," he said bluntly. "Not in the grand scheme of things. If I burdened you with every minor setback, we’d never move forward."

"Minor setback?" Your voice rose, cracking with the weight of unspoken pain. "This isn’t just about you, Alhaitham! I thought we were partners, but you keep me out of everything! Am I just—just someone you tolerate? Someone convenient to have around?"

He hesitated for a moment. Just a fraction of a second, but it was enough. Enough to break something fragile between you.

"You’re important to me," he said finally, but the words felt hollow, like a practiced response to an unimportant question. "But I make decisions based on logic, not sentiment. That’s who I am."

You laughed bitterly, tears stinging your eyes. "Logic? You think this was about logic? Gods, I should have known better. Given your history—how you push everyone away—I should have known you’d do the same to me."

"That’s not fair," he said, his voice still maddeningly even. "I didn’t ask you to—"

"To what? Care about you? Worry about you?" You stepped back, your voice trembling as you fought to keep it steady. "No, you didn’t. And that’s the problem. You don’t need anyone, do you? Not me, not anyone else. You’re perfectly fine on your own."

Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Alhaitham didn’t argue. He didn’t try to stop you when you turned toward the door, your heart breaking with every step.

"You’re right," you said quietly, your hand on the doorknob. "You don’t need me. And I—I can’t keep pretending that doesn’t hurt."

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Alhaitham alone in the quiet room. He stared at the space you had occupied moments ago, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned back to the window, the moonlight cold and distant on his face.

And he stayed there, alone, as the night stretched on—alone still when the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, and alone even as the world around him awakened to a new day he would face in solitude.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[kumabeom]

saudade love 🫧

seventeen : i can do it with a broken heart

synopsis : actress!yn and actor!soobin are forced by their companies to date as a publicity stunt to promote their latest releases. however what’s to happen when yn and soobin spend more and more time together even though yn’s closest friend is keeping secrets.

my sweet love, yn, how i love you oh so very much. how i wish to wake up to your warmth every day. every single day is so worth living, because im able to see you everyday. how you melt away all my problems with your warmth that is stronger than the sun. how you pull me into a hug and i can automatically feel your radiant heat. i feel like im in heaven when i am in your arms.

it’s not that i want you, which i do, but it’s that i need you.

you’re the joy in my life. the reason that im able to go to sleep and wake up without a singular worry in my mind.

but sometimes you’re the reason for my sleepless nights.

the nights that i spend thinking about you. thinking about what we can do together on an adventure with each other.

we’ve spent so much time together, originally it was something i didn’t want. something that you didn’t want. because we both thought we would ruin our lives by going with what our hearts wanted. was it so wrong to love the person i worked with? what if the company found out and they were unhappy with our decision? would be forced to break up?

relationships, all relationships are full of questions. the future is full of questions. at times you’ll question to yourself if you even feel happy with me by your side.

and i won’t be upset if you one day decide to leave my side, why would i be? your future is yours and my future is mine. but for my future, i always want to see you happy. if it’s with me or not.

this all sounds like im trying to part ways with you, but im not. of course not. not when you’re the person i love the most in the world.

when you’re the person who keeps me going. the person who i can always go to when things are not going so well.

my love.

you will always be my love. want to spend every moment with you. want to cherish your love. want to bathe in your warmth.

it’s all so selfish.

to want you. to need you.

but i can’t deny it any longer.

you’re my true one and only.

i know it. and i don’t have any doubts about it.

how can someone like you not be my one and only.

and you’re so unique, i’ll never find anyone in the world like you, yn.

all i need.. is you.

i’m reminded of your love every morning that i wake up and see the flowers that you get me on my desk, fully basking in the sunlight. the second i wake up and there’s a good morning message as soon as i open my phone. when you burst into my room right after i respond, and we just cuddle in bed for a while.

you always wondered why i used to comfort you so much when your alleged scandals were reported by the media..

yn, i always did that.. i always wanted to be by your side because i felt like you didn’t deserve the amount of negative attention you were getting. false accusations, lies, they have the power to ruin you, to ruin everything.

yn, i really love you. i always will.

i promise to you that i’ll always be by your side. i’ll always be the person you can turn to when you need a hug, or when you’re having a bad day. i’ll be that person. i want you to be happy. i promise to make you happy. to continue all the loving acts that i hope are enough to make you feel loved.

i promise myself to you, yn.

oh it was so ironic. the way soobin was now remembering his little ‘speech’ that he was going to use. a red velvet box in his pocket, special necklace inside of it. soobin made it back into your shared apartment, he knew you weren’t there, probably off with yeonjun, already moving on from him.

soobin didn’t want to let his mind wander on you too much. he didn’t want to feel pain from your departure, he was the one who brought it up, and you were the one who betrayed him. he didn’t even try to give himself a chance to miss him, no because why would he miss the person who hurt him so so much.

he placed the box on the coffee table. sitting himself on the couch, the same couch that he had spent with you, the first time that the two of you watched ‘10 things i hate about you’ together. fuck. he hasn’t meant to reminisce on his memories with you. he quickly got up from the couch, entering the restroom, washing off his makeup to remove the icky feeling of it.

you, on the other hand, were also not doing so well. yes, you had turned to yeonjun for help, but it wasn’t anything that wasn’t out of the ordinary. the two of you were friends, and only friends. you knew that and he knew that, the two of you had been friends for so so long that it nearly felt like you were siblings.

you laid your head back, hitting yeonjun’s couch, no matter how many times he asked you to sleep in his bed, you always declined. a thin yet soft blanket covered your body, as much as yeonjun wanted to offer you comfort, you told him that you would rather just go to sleep. yeonjun was smarter than to fall for your bluff, he walked into the dark room, laying down on his loveseat and covering himself with the blanket that he dragged from his room.

your staring contest with the ceiling ended, turning on your side to face yeonjun.

“isn’t it crazy..?” yeonjun speaks up, a tiny smirk on his face, not that you could even see it, it was nearly pitch black. the only reason you even noticed he was walking in the room was because of the very small creak in the floor.

“what is ?” you questioned, yeonjun couldn’t help but sit up, hoping to get a few words out of you.

“i don’t know.. i was just hoping you would spill what happened…”

“you know you could’ve just asked..” you felt your silk pajamas, a pair that you always left at yeonjun’s place in the case of an emergency movie night, beginning to stick to you as you began to feel a little warm. typically when you had a serious deep conversation with yeonjun, you always got nervous, that feeling always occurred because you knew you would have a break down due to whatever the topic was that you would feel so sad.

“what’s wrong, yn? what happened between you and soobin.” yeonjun questioned, taking your advice to ask you straightforwardly, even though you had rejected his request a few hours ago.

“i think.. well i kinda know, i know that yeji set us up.. remember when i said that yeji told me that you needed me..” yeonjun hummed in response, remembering the situation clearly. “well.. you didn’t.. but she took the chance to spew whatever nonsense to soobin.. and at first i kinda understood that maybe whatever she said might’ve gotten to his head.. he was saying that he knows that you and i are a thing, and i turned it down.. and i wanted to be so so patient, but i couldn’t. and at one point i just kind of gave up, i just got really mad and i told him that if he wanted to end our whole relationship then he could’ve just said so.. and then he did..” you felt your eyes beginning to sting, a small sigh leaving your lips after you finished.

“and i don’t know if he really did want to end it, i don’t know if i was maybe being too harsh, or if maybe he just believed whatever yeji told him.. but i also think that, why would he believe yeji.. yeji who had always seemed to know where we were, the same yeji who barged into his trailer that one day, yeji who has been spreading fake rumors about me..”

yeonjun felt his heart drop, he wasn’t sure if what you had been saying was true or if you were just saying something due to your anger. “yn, what do you mean?”

“yeonjun… isn’t it so obvious that it’s yeji..? all of this started when i got with soobin, when we announced our relationship..”

“yn, that doesn’t mean anything, surely you’ve just got things mixed up.. yeji is our bestfriend and i’m nearly sure that she wouldn’t be spreading fake rumors about you..”

“yeonjun.. i get it, but she told soobin something, she’s capable of anything.. she’s not my bestfriend.. not anymore.. not after what she just did. and my whole situation with soobin, she 100% orchestrated that.. there’s no doubt about it at all.” yeonjun sighed, he agreed with you for the most part, except for this whole yeji rumor situation. originally yeonjun was going to tell you that yeji wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, so why would she spread false rumors, but to be honest, he was also certain that soobin was misled by yeji. it didn’t mean that yeonjun felt bad for soobin, afterall he did watch as you internally struggled; attempting to deal with the heartbreak without letting a smile leave your face until yeonjun dragged you to his place.

“yeonjun.” you whispered, he could hear your voice beginning to tremble, this was the beginning. the beginning of your heartbreak, the first few signs that you were truly going through something. the questions placed in your head, the doubts, the worry.. yeonjun hummed once again, letting you know that he was still listening. “we are just friends right ? we’ve never done anything that is weird or inappropriate in stance of our friendship..”

“yn, we are not the problem. you are not the problem. there is nothing we have ever done to seem like we are even remotely interested in each other in a romantic way. if soobin wants to project his insecurities he can. but yn, you’re like a sister to me and i don’t want to ruin our bond because soobin and yeji decided to play games and mess around.” yeonjun was right. the two of you had multiple of boundaries to ensure a sibling like relationship that wouldn’t hurt anyone. neither you or him. you’ve never had feeling for yeonjun.

you hadn’t ever seen him in that kind of light, yeonjun had a moment where he questioned his friendship with you, but that time he realized that you were more than just his friend, rather you were like his sister.

you pulled up the blanket up to your chin. “thank you, jun.. thanks for letting me stay.. and for getting me out of the party, and thanks for always listening to me..”

yeonjun let out an exasperated sigh, “to think he wanted to replace me, but he can’t even listen to you, it’s what i do best.. i literally majored in psychology.”

“.. no you didn’t..” you responded, small giggle leaving your lips as you heard yeonjun’s white lie. that was the reaction he wanted, he wanted to hear you laugh, he didn’t want to see you going through such a rough heartbreak. he knew you had to at some point during your life, but he wanted to help alleviate the sadness you would go through.

you found yourself exactly in the situation that you wanted to avoid. heart throbbing as if it was about to explode, shaky breath. you were sitting next to soobin, on your way to a joint photoshoot. you were nearly 100 percent sure that your staff could sense something was wrong, the lack of affection the two of you were having. not to mention the complete silence in the long car ride. the staff caught on as soon as they saw your bloodshot eyes, soobin’s hand not trying to find its way into yours, even when the two of you were exhausted, you always found away to still show each other love. oh something was definitely wrong with you two.

you weren’t sure if it was the tickle from the brush that was touching up against your cheek, or if it was genuinely the stinging in your heart that was making your eyes water. a tiny tear rolling down your cheek, and soobin saw it from across the room, his hands in the pockets of the suit he was wearing, the same suit he wore on the saudade love movie night. and unfortunately your were wearing the same blue dress that caused your itchy reaction that night.

“oh yn!” the mention of your name brought your attention back to the entire scene, suddenly feeling the wet tear on your cheek as more threatened to spill. your makeup artist rushing to grab a fan, blowing the air into your face, catching you a bit off guard. the tear dissipated, your artist rushing to fix any mistakes that were made. “are you okay? you’ve been out of it this entire time..” you just nodded in response, a tiny reaffirming smile appearing on your lips before leaving nearly immediately. “it’s not the dress, is it? i told the stylists and the company to not force you into it again, but you know how they get..”

“n-no, the dress is okay for now. i think it’s just good to be quick about this shoot..” and just by the sound of your voice anybody could tell that you wanted to cry. your red eyes had also been a bit of a sign that you had been crying, but nobody really wanted to comment on it, afterall the editors would find a way to make you look fine.

“you’re all set !” you whispered a quick thank you, walking over to the white screen, no color anywhere in the room. soobin quickly joined your side, pretending to help you with your dress, spreading it out beautifully.

“can you maybe not?” you whispered, trying your best to keep up a good look. pretending to smile with pure joy at soobin.

“do you have a better idea? we’re dating and as much as i hate to be doing this stuff, i’d like to keep it professional..” soobin kept a clear face, trying his best not to show any emotions. he was upset, the way his narrative was working, the fact that you had the nerve to be the one who seemed so upset.

by the end of the shoot, you were nearly so sure that you were going to have a breakdown any second. furrowed eyebrows as you walked into a closet, finding only yourself and your clothes in there. although you found yourself suddenly pressing your ear against the locked door, hearing your name mentioned.

“was it just me? or did it look like soobin and yn were so.. i don’t know.. but something definitely happened. soobin was like upset the entire time and yn looked like she was about to cry every other second..”

“you don’t think they broke up? do you?” another voice chimed in.

“i don’t know, but as actors, theyre not that good at acting…”

“girl, if you broke up with your lover would you be okay? if you would be then that’s kinda crazy, but either way, somethings you can’t just pretend you’re okay.”

“all i’m saying is that, they’re in a fake relationship either way so it shouldn’t be that bad..”

“fake relationship? you believed that?”

“of course i do, love is one of those things that you can’t act about, and they don’t do a good job ‘loving’ each other.”

“please, honestly i just think you’re jealous.” you finished listening in on the conversation, changing into your clothes, deciding to fully dedicate your job and put your emotions aside. you stepped out from the changing room, accidentally scaring the staff crew that were walking down the hallway. suddenly keeping they seemed uptight, although you just shared a genuine smile with them.

“thank you so much for your hard work..” you gave them a small yet sweet bow, moving past them and attempting to find soobin, noticing him with your manager. you practically skipped your way towards him, your hand immediately finding his, soobin swore that he must’ve missed out on a whole episode of some kind of drama.. why had you been acting like you were actually happy with him..? like you were still dating, i mean you were, just not in the sense that the two of you used to be. your hand in his, his hand held in both of your hands. your manager, kept talking to soobin before deciding to give the two of you some space.

“can you let go, your hands are clammy..” soobin spoke up, before being met with pure rejection.

“no, i cant.. everybody is catching on..” you replied in a dull tone..

©️kumabeom

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[soulofapatrick]

"I’m your idiot" - Senami Shinazugawa x female reader

Summary: You get injured and Senami panics for once

Words: 4K 

Warnings: blood; injury 

Notes: I just finished Demon Slayer hehe

Y/N’s POV 

The Butterfly Mansion is so close now. Its rooftops peek through the dense forest, like a distant promise, barely visible above the treetops. The faint clash of swords echoes on the wind, sharp and rhythmic, a sound that’s both reassuring and agonising. Every step I take feels heavier, as though my body is being pulled down by invisible chains. My legs tremble beneath me, struggling to carry my exhausted frame. Blood, sticky and hot, pools beneath my uniform, seeping through the fabric and staining my skin. It’s a constant, unrelenting flow, a reminder that I’m barely holding on.

Sanemi’s going to be furious.

The thought cuts through the fog of pain clouding my mind like a blade. His voice, sharp as always, rings in my ears: Why didn’t you call for backup? What the hell were you thinking? Those words will bite—harsh and unforgiving—but what stings more than the anger in his voice is the worry that always follows. It’s the worry that weighs heavier on me than anything else.

I stumble, my foot catching on a loose rock, and I barely manage to grab hold of a tree trunk to stop myself from crashing down. My knees threaten to buckle, but I force myself forward, one step after another, despite the waves of dizziness that threaten to swallow me whole.

The courtyard is so close now—just ahead, an open space where the Hashira train. My heart stutters in my chest, a jarring mix of relief and dread. I don’t want him to see me like this, vulnerable, broken. But I know I can’t make it much farther. I’m too far gone.

By the time I reach the courtyard, my vision is nothing but a blur of shapes and colours, spinning as if I’m caught in a storm. The sound of sparring fills my ears—Mitsuri’s laughter, light and infectious, Obanai’s dry remarks laced with annoyance, the sharp clang of steel meeting steel as Giyuu’s blade clashes against Sanemi’s. The noises are distant, muffled, like they’re reaching me through a thick veil of water, as though I’m standing at the bottom of a deep well.

I take one more step.

My body betrays me. My legs give way beneath me, and the world tilts violently. The ground rises up to meet me, hard and unforgiving, as I crash to my knees. My palms scrape against the dirt, rough and raw, and a sharp jolt of pain shoots through my side. I choke on the coppery taste of blood in my mouth, swallowing back a cry that threatens to escape.

For a moment, I can’t breathe. The world spins, my vision darkening at the edges. The pounding of my heartbeat fills my ears, drowning out everything else. But then, through the haze, I see them—the Hashira—training under the sun, their movements swift and fluid, their presence grounding me, even as my strength fades.

“Y/N!” Mitsuri’s voice slices through the fog, high-pitched and laced with panic. My head jerks toward her, and I catch the sight of her wooden sword slipping from her hands, forgotten as she freezes in horror. Her eyes widen in disbelief, her face draining of colour as she takes in the sight of me.

Her cry cuts through the air, sharp and unrestrained, drawing everyone’s attention in an instant. Giyuu’s movements falter, his typically serene composure briefly disrupted by a flicker of concern that crosses his stoic features. Obanai stiffens, his eyes narrowing as they fixate on me, sharp and calculating, the gears in his mind turning in silence. And Sanemi—

Sanemi freezes mid-swing, his body tensing as if time itself has slowed. His sword, once poised to strike Giyuu with practiced precision, slips from his grip and crashes to the ground. The clang of metal against stone echoes across the courtyard, the sharpness of the sound making my already fragile heart skip a beat.

“Y/N!” His voice shatters the tension, cracking with raw, unfiltered panic, cutting through the chaos like a blade.

I barely register the rush of his footsteps—fast, determined—as he breaks into a dead sprint toward me. My arms tremble, the last vestiges of my strength giving way, and before I can crumple entirely to the earth, his presence is there, like a storm rushing in to steady me.

Sanemi drops to his knees beside me with such force that the earth beneath us seems to shudder in response. His hands are on me instantly—rough, urgent, but somehow tender—as he pulls me against his chest, cradling me like I might slip away if he isn’t careful.

“Shit, shit,” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely a whisper but full of panic and disbelief. His eyes rake over me, taking in the blood soaking through my torn uniform, the tremors that wrack my body with every shallow breath. His fingers press against my side, and I can’t help the sharp intake of breath, a flinch of pain that I can’t hide. “What the hell happened to you?”

The words barely reach my mind through the haze of pain clouding everything. I try to respond, but my throat is so dry, parched, that all that escapes is a weak, rasping sound—an echo of a voice that feels like it belongs to someone else.

“Damn it, don’t talk,” he snaps, his voice harsh, but the fury in his words is quickly undermined by the trembling of his hand against my side, the softness that lingers despite the anger in his tone. “You’re bleeding everywhere—how long have you been walking like this?”

I summon what little strength I have left to lift my gaze to his, meeting his eyes—stormy and frantic, filled with a mixture of disbelief, anger, and something softer, something buried deeper that I can’t quite place. With great effort, I force my lips into the faintest of smiles, even though every fibre of my being aches in protest. “Didn’t... want to bother you,” I whisper, each word a struggle, each breath like shards of glass in my chest.

His expression contorts, his lips parting as though to say something, but no words come. For a moment, he simply stares at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as though he's at war with himself. He’s torn, and it’s painfully evident—torn between the fury that surges within him and the vulnerability that threatens to break through.

“Bother me?” he growls, his voice thick with emotion, his hand tightening around me, but not in a way that would hurt. “You’re—” He stops himself, inhaling sharply through his nose as though trying to calm the storm inside him, trying to keep himself from unraveling.

Behind him, Mitsuri hovers anxiously, her hands clasped over her mouth, her wide eyes filled with worry. Obanai stands a few steps back, his usual calm indifference replaced by a rare flicker of unease. The atmosphere around us is thick with tension, heavy and suffocating.

“Giyuu, go get Shinobu,” Sanemi barks, his voice cutting through the silence like a whip, his command sharp and unwavering despite the chaos swirling inside him. He doesn’t look up from me, his focus entirely on the fragile weight of my body in his arms. He’s shaking, but he won’t let it show—not yet.

I hear the rapid retreat of Giyuu’s footsteps as he races off to find Shinobu. His footsteps fade into the distance, and in the silence that follows, Mitsuri takes a hesitant step closer. Her voice trembles, barely more than a whisper, as she asks, “Is she—Sanemi, is she going to be okay?”

Sanemi’s jaw tightens at the question, and his lips press into a thin line, a flicker of something dangerous flashing in his eyes. He lifts his gaze to hers, the flicker of panic momentarily giving way to a controlled mask of determination. But when his eyes dart back to my face, the fear he’s trying so desperately to hide is unmistakable. It’s there, in the way his pupils constrict, in the way his hand—still cradling me—quivers.

“She will be,” he says, his voice firm, though the conviction falters like a thread pulled too tight.

His forehead drops to mine, and I can feel his breath—hot, uneven—against my skin. His presence envelops me, grounding me in a reality that feels dangerously distant. “You’re an idiot,” he murmurs, his voice low, cracking with restrained emotion. His words sting, but it’s not the anger that cuts deep. It’s the tremble beneath them—the rawness, the fear. “You could’ve died out there, and for what? To spare me a little worry?”

I manage a weak laugh, though it comes out more like a dry, desperate wheeze, and a bitter taste coats my tongue. “Figured you’d... yell at me less.”

His fingers tighten against my side—almost painfully so—and his shoulders tremble with the weight of emotions he’s fighting to suppress. “You think I care about that right now?” His voice cracks, fragile and breaking. “You think I care about how much I yell at you when you’re bleeding out in my arms?” His words are strained, raw with anguish, and the desperation that laces his voice sends a chill through me, more potent than the pain. “I just—” He stops himself, biting back whatever else he wants to say, his chest rising and falling as he draws in a shaky breath.

“Sanemi...” I whisper his name, my voice barely audible, but it seems to carry the weight of everything unsaid between us.

His lips tremble, and then, before I can even blink, he interrupts me, his forehead pressing harder against mine. “I’ve got you,” he says, his voice a fierce promise, though the cracks in his tone betray the fear that’s clawing at him. “You’re going to be fine. Just—just stay with me, okay? Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

Mitsuri kneels beside us, her hands hovering over me, as though afraid that the slightest touch will make everything worse. “Sanemi, I think—” she begins, but her words falter in the air, swallowed by the tension.

“I know,” he snaps, but then his voice softens as my breathing catches in a strained gasp. “I know,” he repeats, almost to himself, a mantra in the silence that follows.

The world around me tilts, fading further into a haze as the darkness creeps at the edges of my vision. But still, I feel him—his strength, his warmth—as he gently, but urgently, lifts me into his arms. The movement is careful, as if he believes that any jolt will shatter me into a million pieces. And still, his heartbeat pounds in my ears—loud, frantic, wild—but steady enough to hold on to. His arms are like iron bands, yet there’s a tenderness to them, a desperation that breaks through the tension.

As he rises to his feet, his voice drops to a mutter, too low for anyone else to catch, but not too low for me. “You’re everything, you idiot,” he breathes, his words laced with an agony so pure it almost cuts through the darkness threatening to swallow me whole. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

And even as the shadows tug at my consciousness, pulling me deeper into oblivion, I cling to him. To the sound of his voice, jagged and frantic. To the heat of his body, holding me together. To the promise buried in the depths of his words, a lifeline tethering me to the world, even as everything slips away.

——

The first thing I register is the sterile scent of herbs and salves, mingling with the faint scent of wood and fire. My body feels heavy, weighed down by exhaustion, but the softness of the futon beneath me is a welcome reprieve from the unforgiving battlefield. Each muscle aches as if I’ve been torn apart and stitched back together again, but for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m allowed to rest.

I try to shift, but a warmth at my side stops me, pulling me back into the stillness. Slowly, my senses sharpen, and I realise my hand is wrapped in something rough, something solid. A warm, unyielding presence. I blink, my vision blurry at first as the light filters through the window, and my gaze lands on him.

Sanemi.

He’s slumped in a chair beside the bed, his body curved toward me like a lifeline, his head resting gently on my thigh. His white hair spills messily over the edge of the blanket, soft strands caught in the light like streaks of moonlight. His grip on my hand is firm, almost desperate, as if even in sleep, he’s afraid I might slip away.

I blink back the sting of tears at the sight of him, his exhaustion written across every line of his face. His brows are furrowed even now, as though he's still fighting, still caught in some nightmare he can’t wake from. I feel a pang deep in my chest—this man, this warrior, so strong and unwavering, yet here he is, vulnerable, caught between the worlds of dreams and fear.

My free hand moves without thought, trembling fingers sliding gently through the mess of white hair, like I can anchor him to me in the way he’s always done for me. His hair is coarse, yet soft to the touch, like him—tough and unyielding, but full of unexpected warmth. I thread my fingers through it, offering a gentle, soothing stroke.

He stirs almost instantly, his head lifting slightly, his eyes blinking open slowly, groggily at first. The confusion on his face fades almost immediately, his eyes locking onto mine with wide-eyed shock. And then, a relief so intense it fills the room with the weight of it.

“Y/N?” His voice is rough, hoarse, as though he’s been yelling at the world for days, his throat raw from disuse. But the fear in his eyes, the way they soften when they settle on me, tells me everything I need to know.

“Hi,” I whisper, my throat dry and scratchy, the words barely leaving my lips.

For a moment, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even breathe. His whole body freezes, like he’s afraid if he so much as blinks, I’ll vanish. Then, his hand tightens around mine, and he leans forward, his face hovering just above mine.

“You’re awake,” he breathes, his voice cracking, his face inches from mine. His hand drops from my hand only to cradle my face, his thumb brushing along my cheek in a gesture so gentle, it feels like the softest of prayers. “You—damn it, you’ve been out for four days.”

Four days?

I echo his words softly, my voice faint, barely audible. “Four days?”

He nods, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. His breath is shaky, uneven, and I can feel the tension in his body, the weight of everything he’s carried these past days, all of it pouring out in that single exhale. “Four damn days of you lying here while I—I thought I might lose you,” he mutters, the words laced with the kind of pain I’ve never heard from him before.

My hand moves again, resting softly against his cheek, feeling the roughness of his skin beneath my palm. His eyes snap open, and I smile faintly at him, the curve of my lips weak but genuine.

“I’m here, Sanemi,” I murmur softly, my voice a quiet assurance against the storm he’s been weathering. “You didn’t lose me.”

His breath hitches, and for a moment, he doesn’t speak. He only stares at me, his jaw clenching as if he’s fighting to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over. And when his voice finally breaks the silence, it’s barely a whisper—so quiet, yet so charged with everything he’s been holding in.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he says, his voice low and trembling, the words laden with an intensity that shakes me to the core. His grip on me tightens, and I feel the weight of his heart pressing against mine, raw and unfiltered.

“Don’t,” he cuts me off, his voice sharp but his touch impossibly gentle. “Don’t apologise. Just... just promise me you won’t do something that stupid again. Promise me, Y/N.”

His words slice through the air with a force that makes my chest tighten. There’s a desperation in his tone that I can’t ignore, an unspoken fear that tugs at the deepest part of me. He’s trying so hard to be the brash, no-nonsense Sanemi—the one everyone knows, the one who wears his pride like armour—but here, in this moment, with me, he’s stripped bare, vulnerable and raw in a way I’ve never seen before.

“I promise,” I say, and the weight of the words makes them feel like a vow. I mean it—more than I can even put into words. I won’t put him through that again.

His shoulders sag in visible relief, and for a moment, he just holds me there, his forehead still pressed against mine, grounding me. It feels like time slows, the world outside of this room falling away until there’s nothing left but the two of us—this fragile moment, this fragile promise.

Then, almost as if remembering who he is, he pulls back slightly, his face hardening in the way only Sanemi can. But his hand doesn’t leave my face, his thumb still tracing idle patterns along my skin, a touch so soft it contrasts with his words.

“You’re still an idiot for not calling for backup,” he mutters, the sharpness in his voice still there, but it’s tempered with something softer, something more... tender.

I can’t help but smile at him, the corners of my lips lifting in a small, genuine way. “I’ll call next time,” I promise, the words coming easy now.

His brows furrow in mock frustration, but the softness in his eyes betrays him. “There better not be a next time,” he growls, and despite the threat, there’s a protective warmth in his gaze that melts something inside me.

I laugh weakly, the sound light, but enough to ease something in him. He lets out a breath, low and quiet, like he’s been holding it in for days, and then... he leans down. The pressure of his forehead against mine relieves some of the tension that’s been mounting in his body, but then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he presses his lips—barely a touch, a whisper—against my forehead.

It’s fleeting, a soft, warm caress that holds more weight than any words could. The kiss sends a spark racing through me, igniting something fierce and unrelenting in my chest. The fear, the pain, the exhaustion—it all fades into the background, leaving only one undeniable truth in its place: I almost died without ever telling him how I feel.

I can’t let that happen.

Before I can overthink it, my hand shoots up, fingers curling around his jaw. His eyes widen in surprise, and I see the shift—his guard goes up, just for a second, before I tug him down, closing the space between us. His lips are still warm from the kiss on my forehead, but this time, the kiss is mine to give.

He doesn’t pull away. There’s a hesitation, a moment of shock in his eyes before they soften, and then he’s kissing me back. The world outside of this moment ceases to exist—there’s only the feeling of his lips on mine, the pressure of his body against me, the taste of relief and longing. His hand moves to the back of my head, holding me to him like he’s afraid I’ll slip away if he lets go.

When we finally break apart, my breath is shallow, my heart pounding in my chest as if it’s trying to make up for lost time. His forehead rests against mine again, and I can feel his pulse—rapid, frantic—matching my own.

“You’re... you’re still an idiot,” he whispers, his voice a little more hoarse than before, but there’s something softer in his tone now. Something he hasn’t allowed himself to say, something I can feel through the way his fingers tremble lightly on my skin.

“I know,” I breathe out, my voice shaky. “But I’m your idiot.”

He huffs out something between a laugh and a sigh, his lips quirking into a small, lopsided grin. “Damn right you are.”

The weight of everything we’ve been through lingers in the space between us, heavy but comforting, as if we’re both silently acknowledging the unspoken bond that’s been forged through our shared trials. It’s a quiet understanding—one that only the two of us can fully grasp.

Then, without warning, he leans down again, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that’s softer this time, slower. There’s no rush, no desperation. It’s about something deeper, something more meaningful. Every brush of his lips against mine feels like a confession, a promise of everything he hasn’t been able to say. It’s a tenderness I’ve never seen from him before, and it catches me off guard in the best way.

But, of course, nothing can stay perfect for too long.

Behind us, there’s a faint cough—awkward, yet still loud enough to interrupt. Sanemi jerks back slightly, his body stiffening as he glares over his shoulder, his face flushing an impressive shade of red. Mitsuri stands a few feet away, her hands pressed against her flushed cheeks, eyes wide with an excitement she’s struggling to contain.

“I—sorry!” she squeaks, her voice high-pitched and practically vibrating with excitement. “I didn’t mean to interrupt! I just—um—should I get Shinobu?”

Sanemi’s scowl is quick to return, but the harshness of his usual tone is absent, replaced by something softer, more resigned. “Go!” he barks, though his voice is far from venomous. The slight embarrassment in his eyes gives away his true feelings. “Just... go.”

Mitsuri, clearly trying not to burst out laughing, nods eagerly before darting off, her excited giggles trailing behind her like a whirlwind. I bite back my own laughter, my hand still resting gently on Sanemi’s face as I meet his gaze again.

The shift in energy is palpable. What had been a tender, quiet moment now feels lighter, more relaxed, even though a faint blush still colours his cheeks. Sanemi’s scowl softens as soon as he looks at me, and I can see the weight of his emotions finally beginning to settle.

“We’re going to talk about this,” he says, his voice firm, though there’s no anger behind the words—just an undeniable sense of care.

I can’t help but smile, the corners of my lips twitching up as I stare at him. “About what? The fact that I’m still breathing?”

His eyes narrow in mock suspicion, and I can see the mix of affection and frustration swirling in them. “Don’t push your luck,” he mutters, though there’s a spark of amusement dancing in his gaze.

“I’m serious,” I tease, my fingers gently tracing the outline of his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere, Sanemi. Not now. Not ever.”

His expression softens again, and for a moment, it’s like the world outside of this room has stopped spinning. It’s just the two of us, wrapped in the aftermath of everything we’ve survived and everything we’ve yet to face. The unspoken words between us are more powerful than any argument or confession could ever be.

He finally gives a small nod, his thumb brushing across my cheek. “I know,” he says quietly. “I just... I wasn’t ready for it. But I’ll get used to it, I guess.”

I laugh softly, the sound light and free. “Good,�� I say, my voice full of affection. “Because I’m not planning on going anywhere either.”

Demon Slayer Masterlist To be made TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[daisymbin]

hello!! such an amazing writer ! 🩷🤗 can I request an angst prompt with # 6 with the member mingyu?

of course cutie!! & thank you 🥹

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

angst prompt #6: "you chose them over me."

the soft hum of the city outside. mingyu is sitting on the couch, arms crossed, his usual warmth replaced by a cold distance. you stand near the door, hand resting on the doorknob, hesitation thick in the air.

"you chose him over me."

the words hit you hard, sharper than you were ready for. mingyu’s voice is soft but laden with so much hurt that it knocks the breath out of your lungs. you freeze, unsure of how to respond. he looks at you, his eyes dark with frustration, disappointment, and something else you can't quite name.

"mingyu…" you start, but your voice falters, thick with guilt. "what are you talking about?"

"don’t act like you don’t know," he interrupts, voice strained as he stands, towering over you. "you’ve been running after him. him, from your office. i see it. i see the way you talk about him. how you choose him over me every single time."

your heart drops, panic rising in your chest. him. the guy from your workplace. you hadn't meant to let it get this far, hadn't meant for mingyu to notice how often you were texting him, how your conversations about work often stretched into personal territory.

"mingyu, it’s not like that," you say quickly, trying to keep your voice steady, but failing. your fingers curl around the doorknob, your heart racing.

"don’t lie," he says, shaking his head in disbelief. "you think i don’t see it? you talk to him more than you talk to me now. when we’re together, you’re on your phone, texting him, making excuses about work. him," he spits the word as if it tastes bad on his tongue.

"i didn’t mean to make you feel that way," you say, your voice shaky, guilt swallowing you whole. "it’s just… i didn’t want to make things weird. it’s just work, mingyu."

he steps closer, his breath warm against your face, his expression filled with frustration and hurt. "and what about us? what about me? i’ve been here, with you, and you’ve been so distant lately. you’ve been choosing him over me every time."

you can’t look him in the eye. you chose him. those words replay in your mind over and over again. you hadn’t meant for it to be like this, hadn’t meant to hurt mingyu. but now, you see the truth of what he’s saying. you’ve been choosing him.

"mingyu, i didn’t think—" you start, but he interrupts again, his voice quieter now, but it stings just as much.

"no. don’t tell me you didn’t think. you knew exactly what you were doing. i’m just the backup. the afterthought. i’ve been here all this time, waiting for you. and you’ve been too busy with him."

the words land like a blow. you want to reach out to him, to apologize, but the guilt makes it impossible to speak. everything you say feels hollow.

"i didn’t know how to make it right. i didn’t mean to hurt you," you whisper, your throat tight. "but he’s just someone from work. i swear, mingyu, it’s not like that. i never meant to choose him over you."

he looks at you, eyes searching for something—anything—that might tell him you’re telling the truth. but the hurt is too deep, too raw, for him to believe you right now.

"you don’t get it, do you?" he says, stepping back, his arms falling limp by his sides. "you chose him. and now you’re standing here, trying to make it sound like it was nothing. i’m not some backup for when your work life doesn’t get in the way."

you feel the weight of his words settling deep within you. you did choose him. in so many small ways, you chose him over mingyu. and now, the truth stings more than you can bear. You chose him.

"mingyu…" you begin, but your voice cracks. your heart aches at the sight of him, standing there, the distance between you more painful than anything physical.

"no, don’t. i can’t do this anymore." he turns away from you, shoulders slumped, his back to you. "you chose him. you didn’t choose me."

you stand there in the silence, your chest tight, unable to find any words that can undo what’s been done. the truth hangs heavy in the air. you chose him. you didn’t choose mingyu.

the door between you both feels like a boundary neither of you can cross anymore. you reach out, but your hand stops short, knowing it’s too late. mingyu’s already made up his mind, and so have you.