#thank you for asking all of this i hope the answers are interesting to you !!!

[wvyik]

quit pouting, winchester’ d.w. ꩜ .ᐟ

dean winchester x fem! reader

summary; dean gets all jealous over something super dumb (he’d never admit it though), and ends up pouting until you kiss him to make him stop being so ridiculous.

warnings; a hint of possessiveness, jealousy with unreasonable doubts, (duh) make out sesh, but other than that — just pure fluff, because this man is soft for you no matter how much he tries to act tough. don’t kiss and drive kids!!

notes; this is my first fic ever!! send some love. thanks so much for reading through my yap sesh. ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

words; 1008

Dean Winchester is pouting.

And, yeah, he’d probably rather die than admit it, but it’s so obvious it’s almost embarrassing. Arms crossed, jaw tight, barely sparing you a glance as he sulks in the driver’s seat of the Impala. You’d think you just crashed Baby into a brick wall with how pissed he looks.

“De.. what is wrong with you?” you finally ask, leaning against the window to look at him.

“Nothin’,” he mutters, gripping the steering wheel like it personally offended him. Nothing, my ass.

You narrow your eyes. “Dean.”

“Nothin’, i already told you.” he repeats, this time with even less conviction.

You huff, shifting in your seat so you’re fully facing him now. “Oh my God, you are such a bad liar.”

He scoffs. “I’m a great liar, trust me.”

“Not to me.”

And, that shuts him up for a second. His fingers tighten on the wheel, his mouth pressing into that stubborn, self-righteous little frown he gets whenever he knows he’s losing but refuses to admit it.

You smirk, slowly realizing what could be the cause of his state. “Oh my God, you’re jealous.”

Dean’s head snaps toward you so fast you think he might give himself whiplash. “What?”

You lean in, grinning now. “You totally are.” you say with a soft chuckle, as if the thought of him being jealous is the most hilarious thing in the whole world.

He rolls his eyes, trying so hard to play it cool, but his ears are so red. “Pfft. Yeah, right.”

“You so are.”

Dean exhales sharply, turning his attention back to the road like the empty highway is the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how to dig himself out of this one.

“You’re acting all weird,” you point out, watching him squirm. “You’ve been quiet for the last hour. You barely even yelled at that dude who cut you off.”

Dean clenches his jaw. He knows you’ve got him.

“So,” you press, “what’s got your panties in a twist, huh?” As if you already don’t know.

He grumbles something under his breath. Oh, he’s embarrassed. You could tell.

You blink. “What?”

More grumbling.

“Dean.” you repeated, hoping for him to finally speak up.

He exhales roughly, hands flexing on the steering wheel. Then, finally, he mutters, “Nothin’. Just— dude was flirting with you, ‘s all.”

You blink. Then blink again. “Are you talking about the gas station cashier?” Dean says nothing. Which is an answer in itself. Oh, this is too good.

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Dean, he barely said two words to me.”

“Yeah? And he was lookin’ at you like a damn puppy,” Dean grumbles. “Like he had a shot.”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “That is so stupid.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs, jaw still tight. “‘S stupid to you.”

And okay, yeah, now you kind of feel bad, because he’s being ridiculous, but also kind of… sad about it? Not that he’d ever admit it, but the way he’s gripping the wheel, the way his lips are pressed tight like he’s trying to keep everything in—he actually cares about this. About you.

Which means he deserves to suffer just a little longer.

You scoot closer, pressing your chin to his shoulder. “You know you’re the only one I want, right?”

Dean stays silent, but you feel the way his grip on the wheel loosens. His jaw twitches when you press a slow, lingering kiss to his cheek. You smirk. Oh, he’s melting.

So, you push further, brushing your lips along the sharp edge of his jaw, taking your sweet time. You can feel the tension in him shift— not gone, but different. Like he’s holding his breath, waiting for what you’ll do next.

He clears his throat, but his voice comes out rough. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

You hum, letting your lips trail just a little lower. “Then quit pouting.”

“I ain’t—”

You shut him up with a proper kiss.

And at first, he barely moves—like he wasn’t expecting it, like it takes him a second to catch up. But the second he does, oh, you’ve got him.

Dean exhales through his nose, tilting his head to meet you fully, and then he’s kissing you like he’s making up for lost time. His hand finally lets go of the steering wheel, landing firm and warm against your thigh, fingers flexing like he’s grounding himself.

You don’t hesitate to deepen it, shifting in your seat to turn toward him, your hand moving up to cup his jaw. He’s warm, rough with stubble, and you take your time exploring it, feeling the way his breath stutters when you scrape your nails lightly along the edge.

Dean groans— low, quiet, but wrecked— and then he’s pulling you closer, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck. The Impala swerves slightly.

You pull back just enough to whisper, breathless, “Dean, focus.”

“Tryin’,” he mutters, voice low and strained. “You’re makin’ it real hard, sweetheart.”

You grin, fingers tangling in the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Ain’t that the point?..”

Dean exhales sharply, like he’s trying so hard to keep his cool, but he’s losing. And you? You’re having the time of your life watching him come undone.

You lean in again, kissing him slow and deep, dragging it out just to make him suffer. He sighs into it, fingers pressing just a little tighter into your skin, like he doesn’t want to let go.

Eventually— reluctantly— you pull back, just enough to look at him. His pupils are almost brown in this lightning, lips pink and kiss-swollen, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.

You smirk. “Told you you were pouting.”

Dean exhales, shaking his head with a grumble—but the way he looks at you? The way his thumb traces absently against your knee, like he’s memorizing the shape of you?

Yeah. You definitely won this one.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library. ⊹₊⟡⋆

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Captain's Orders 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, controlling behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The Captain takes it upon himself to change your life.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: I am still dizzy her and there but feeling a bit better.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You wouldn’t call it doom scrolling. That’s not what this is. You try not to search out the depressing headlines or the studies of the human character assuring you of your race’s inherent flaws. Yet, all those boastful posts about engagements, weddings, and promotions still make you feel crummy. 

Jealous? Sure. You don’t have any of those things and it isn’t as if you can hope for as much, either. You’re in a dead-end job, living in cramped apartment with your sister and her irresponsible friend, and your romantic life is next to non-existent; not that you’ve been looking. None of that is meant for you, otherwise, you’d have had some glimmer of interest by now. 

It’s like quicksand. Not very quick but it pulls you down lower and lower. Sinking and sinking until all you can see is the muck. There’s no way out now, you’re waist deep in it. 

You click under your favourite communities and start a new post. You don’t make many. Mostly you read and judge silently. You’re a lurker. Like in many facets of your life. You watch, you don’t do. But you’ve had a shitty day and you need to just let it out. 

Your fingers move as your thoughts boil in your head; your nagging manager, your lazy landlord, and your immature roommates. Nothing ever goes your way. Everyone else has it figured out and you’re just left to rot. You try! You do. Resumes, profiles on friendship apps, online courses; free, of course, it’s all you can afford, but you do try to improve yourself. It just doesn’t work. 

You hit ‘post’ and close the lid of your ancient laptop. It’s as thick as a book. The battery doesn’t hold a charge and the fan is as loud as a jet. You fall back onto your bed and look around your tiny room. That’s all you have. This space is as much as you can call your own and not really. You rent it, it can be taken away with one of those red stamped notices. 

You yawn and drag yourself up. A whole shift and you didn’t bother to have more than the bland break room coffee spewed from the off-brand pod machine and a couple sticks of gum. Tia got herself sushi before her shift but she can just ask her parents to send her money to cover her Door Dash addiction. 

You plod out to the kitchen. Your sister closes the fridge and cracks the tab of a beer can. You’re sure it isn’t her first.  

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Shea bobbles her head. 

Funny since Donna pretty much hollered at you for interrupting her TV show. You all pitched in on the flat screen yet it’s never your turn with it. You shrug and go to the cupboard. It’s not sushi but the spicy shrimp ramen isn’t too bad... 

“You work?” You ask. 

“Pfft, no. Didn’t I say I was going to lunch with Mason?” 

“Did you?” You take down at bowl. She probably did. You never remember. She’s always got a date or a party or a fall back. If she can’t make rent, she’ll smile a cute guy and get some money. 

“He bought me some shoes! You’ll never believe.” 

“Right,” you try not to seethe. 

You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel. You’re eating sodium-laced noodles and holding back tears against old people wanting to print out their life story from a corrupt PDF. She’s pretty. She doesn’t have to try. Shea is all the proof you need that some people are just lucky. 

You put the electric kettle onto boil and the smell of burnt—something makes your lip curl. You pop the lid and look inside. It’s brown. What the hell? 

“What’s wrong with this?” You ask as you flip off the switch. 

“Donna!” Shea yells, “what did you do to the kettle?” No answer. Your sister hollers again. 

A door swings open and Donna stomps out with a huff. Her face is green as she has a mask spread over it and eye masks pasted beneath her lashes. 

“I’m getting ready--” 

“The kettle stinks,” you reach for a pot and find none. They’re all stacked and waiting to be washed. You snatch one off the top and flip on the faucet. 

“Oh, I heated up some bone broth in it. I’m doing a cleanse,” she smirks. “Tasted kinda weird.” 

“Bone broth?” You scoff. See. You try, they can’t even clean dishes. “Great.” 

“I’m sure it’s fine, just rinse it out,” Shea says. 

You scrub the pan and ignore her. You glance up as she slurps noisily from the can. Pre-drinks. Her and Donna are going out. Again. They can afford to because they don’t buy their own drinks. They don’t need to. You went out with them once and paid for all of your own, even though you’d have been happy enough with a single round. 

“Have fun,” you dry out the pan and slam it on the burner. 

“Jeez, maybe you should loosen up?” Donna chides. 

“Yeah, come with us. Dance it out,” Shea drawls. 

“No thanks,” you twist the knob and light the burner. “I have work tomorrow.” 

“Call innnnn,” Shea insists. 

“I can’t,” you sniff and step back to wait for the water to boil. 

“Boring,” she chirps. 

“Yep, I am,” you cross your arms. Your annoyed. When the go out, you’ll have to clean up this mess. You can’t handle another bout of fruit flies. 

You put the noodles in and let them soften. You stir in the oil and powder then retreat to your room with the bowl of boiling cholesterol. You let it cool and put a video on your phone. You don’t want to think. 

You eat deliberately. You savour the processed flavouring. You can’t go out sneak a midnight snack; Donna ate all your cookies. You label all your stuff in thick marker and she apparently can’t read. 

You hear them leave. They’re loud. They leave the television on. At high volume. 

You go out and shut it off. You need to sleep soon. Opening always comes after a late shift. Otherwise, how else would the corporation keep you disempowered. 

You open your laptop. You’ll but on some lo-fi while you charge your phone. Heck, the fan is like white noise on its own. 

The little red number at the bottom of the page stops you. You left the browser open. Someone actually responded to your post. You click and your stomach drops as you read the first sentence. 

‘Sounds like you cause a lot of your own problems. Maybe try some mindful exercises and get out more. You should also consider making some friends.’ 

You read it over and over. You’re angry. Hurt, too. But most that first thing. You can’t stop from replying. 

‘You got all that from me venting? I wasn’t asking for advice. I walk to and from work and I have friends.’ 

It’s mostly true. You do walk. Most days. And your sister is a friend, isn’t she? By association, so is Donna. 

Before you can look up your favourite twelve-hour lo-fi, another notification pops up. 

‘Looking at your post history, your diet could use some improvements. More veggies. And walking is a good starting point but you need to increase your endorphins. I’d be happy to send you some helpful guides. They’re easily searchable on the internet. We live in the age of information, you should consider taking advantage of that.’ 

Wow, what an asshole. He’s smug and obviously better than you. You click on his username and scroll through. Just as you expect. He posts in fitness communities. Not any videos of him but sharing tutorials and recipes for high-protein smoothies and fibre-laced juices. He wouldn’t know flavour if it puked in his mouth. 

You his ‘esc’ and go back to your own post; ‘thanks for the advice. Have a good one.; 

That’s it. You’re not arguing with some faceless douche on the internet. His response is as quick as the first. 

‘A helpful link.’ He hyperlinks the words. ‘You should at least stretch in the morning and go outside on your breaks at work. You might work long shifts but it’s no excuse to be lazy. If you’ve been in that role for so long, you should have more than enough references to move on to something that doesn’t make you miserable.’ 

You don’t answer. You know if you do, you’ll just embarrass yourself. Judging by the few pics of his real life and his cadence, he’s got everything. He just thinks it’s a matter of mindset. There can’t possibly be anything else which could make things more difficult for people. You just don’t work hard enough. Duh, everyone always says so. 

You close out of the page. If he replies again, you’ll block him. Simple as. You put on a lo-fi track and dim the screen. You roll over and tuck into bed. You fall asleep in a ball of stress; you have to wake up, shower, do all that human stuff, then make yourself face another eight hours of hell. 

⭐

“I hate working at the fucking copy desk,” you hiss as you take your bag from the cubby in the break room. “Good luck.” 

Darcy gives you a look as she sits at one of the tables, waiting for her shift to start. You grit your teeth as you should your purse and grip your jacket tight. You punch your employee number into the clock then head out. 

As you march down the aisle of toner, a customer tries to stop you. “I’m off duty.” 

“But I need a keyboard.” 

You ignore them and keep going. 

“I’m going to tell a manager, young lady!” 

You don’t care. Besides, why are they looking for a keyboard in the toner aisle. The signs above with the giant letters clearly show that the computer accessories are in the opposite corner. 

People are stupid. They might be able to read, technically, but they definitely lack comprehension. Just like Donna who can’t keep her hands off your snacks. 

You walk home in a simmer. If you let your temper get away from you, you won’t be able to hold back when you walk into the inevitable shit show waiting for you at home. Shea and Donna hungover, probably having got into more of your sparse groceries, and amidst a brand new mess for you to tidy. You won’t not this time. 

You have a mission. Go to your room and don’t come out. 

As you enter your building, you find the elevator non-responsive. A tiny post-it is stuck to the doors. ‘Out of Order’. Couldn’t have made something a bit more legible? 

You take the stairs. The hallway smells like onion and dirty clothes. You take out your keys as you get to your door, ignoring the rabble coming from the apartment next to yours. Before you can get your key in the slot, the door opens. 

“Heyyyy, she’s back,” Shea greets. You blink at her in confusion. Is she already drunk again? 

“Starting already?” You ask as you try to get past her. 

“Hm, no,” she says tritely, “you have a guest.” 

You roll your eyes, “don’t be a bitch, alright?” 

“No, really,” she grins. You stop and look her up and down. She isn’t falling apart like usual after a Friday night. Her hair is done, her makeup too, and she’s not in her sweats.  

“Is it mom?” You whisper. 

She snorts, “you’re stupid. No, it’s your friend. Steve.” She backs up with a shimmy, “I think some people call him Captain.” 

You make a face. What? 

“Who...” 

“Ahem,” a figure appears by the corner of the kitchen counter, “I didn’t mean to intrude.” 

You crane to see over Shea’s shoulder. The man behind her is tall. And familiar. Steve Rogers. Your expression contorts as your lashes flutter in confusion. 

“Not at all, Stevie,” Shea spins, “I’ll give you two the room. So nice to meet you.” 

She squeezes by him and touches his forearm as she does. He doesn’t react. She giggles and flits off. Her door shuts but you can tell that the latch didn’t catch. She’s listening. 

“Should we go outside? Get some sun?” He asks. 

You glance at him again. You’re lost. 

“Do I know you?” You grimace. 

“After all day under fluorescent, you should really get out--” 

“I-- I’m sorry, can you slow down and explain--” 

“Outside. Privately,” he says. 

You peek past him then look into the hallway behind you. You search your mind for an explanation. The only place you know him from is the internet or a history book. 

“Like I said before, going outside can really help with mood issues.” 

You hesitate and your mouth falls open. It can’t be... 

“Was that you? Last night?” You shake your head. 

“How about I buy you a smoothie?” He offers. 

You snap your mouth shut. He can’t be serious. This can’t be real. 

[lovetaroandtaemin]

Team Building

Kwon Soonyoung x Reader

Word Count: 7,352

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff, some crack.

Rating: Explicit, MINORS DNI!

Summary: When Y/N and her annoying coworker Soonyoung are forced to share a hotel room during a business trip, tensions are high.

Content Warnings: Mentioned alcohol but everybody is sober during the smut, unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, creampie, soft dom!Hoshi, fingering in the break room, situationship, angst with a happy ending, this man is an idiot I'm sorry. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!

A/N: This fic is part of the Secret Cupid event hosted by the incredible @ddeonghwa-s! This particular fic was written for Bambi, aka @soongyeopsal. I hope you like it!

If y'all want to read the other fics that were written for this event, the masterlist can be found here!

Happy reading, and happy Valentine's Day!

Taglist: @xomakara, @notyourjaem, @heechwe, @shadowkoo

Fic is under the cut.

Kwon Soonyoung was the bane of your existence. He had his charming moments, sure, and he always performed well at work, but he was also arrogant, loud, and just plain rude, especially to you. Every conversation that the two of you had, even if you were only talking to him because you needed to get work done, left you even more irritated with him than you were before. His answers were brief, his tone was sarcastic, and his lack of interest was evident in every word. However, you figured that you could deal with an annoying coworker. After all, you loved your job, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to find something in your field that paid as well as your position at Carat Interactive.

As annoying as Soonyoung was, however, you also had to admit that he was incredibly attractive, despite his tendency to act like a douchebag whenever you had the displeasure of speaking to him. His eyes were a warm shade of brown that made you melt every time you looked into them, his smile gave you butterflies every time you saw it, and his lips looked so kissable. You almost wanted to put aside your hatred to find out just how good of a kisser he was. Almost.

If Soonyoung was being completely honest with himself, he wasn’t particularly fond of you either. He thought that you were far too pretentious and far too serious for your own good. Despite all of that, though, he still couldn’t help but think that you were absolutely beautiful. Every time he saw you in the office, he couldn’t help but stare, and he hated himself for it. That didn’t stop him from doing it, though.

One day, when your annoyance with Soonyoung was at an all-time high, Seungcheol, your boss, called a team meeting. It took longer than you wanted to admit for you to find the room, but eventually, you did. Then, when you walked through the door, the only empty seat in the boardroom was right next to Soonyoung, because of course it was. You really didn’t want to sit next to him, but your desire to avoid disrupting the meeting even more than you already had won out in the end. So, you quietly took a seat and prayed that Soonyoung would not speak to you. Of course, because the gods hated you, the moment he saw you, he asked, “You couldn’t find anywhere else to sit?”

“Look around. Do you see any other open spots?”

Seungcheol cleared his throat and asked, “(Y/N). Soonyoung. Is there a problem?”

“No, there isn’t,” you answered, “Apologies for the disruption.”

“Thank you. Now, onto the reason that I called this meeting,” Seungcheol began. “I’ve noticed several issues when it comes to cooperation and respect on this team. So, I have to ask. How are we going to get anything done if no one can work together?”

“Maybe if you didn’t hire pretentious idiots that don’t know what they’re doing, things would be easier,” Soonyoung muttered.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Soonyoung. With that attitude, we’re never going to get anything done. That’s why, as manager, I’ve decided to organize a team retreat. Hopefully, some team building exercises in a fun new location will help you all see the importance of working together.”

You wanted to complain, citing upcoming deadlines and your concerns about the nature of the “team building exercises” that Seungcheol mentioned, but you knew better than to argue with your boss, especially when he was angry.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Seokmin was the first to speak up, asking, “Will we be paid for attending this retreat?”

“Yes,” Seungcheol answered.

“How long will the retreat last?” someone else asked.

“We’ll be gone for a week. Please make any arrangements that need to be made for pet care or childcare by Saturday, since we’re leaving next Sunday,” your boss replied. “Are there any other questions?” The room fell silent, so Seungcheol added, “Very well. If something comes up, and you do need to speak to me about the retreat, just come and find me in my office. This meeting is adjourned; thank you for your time.”

With the surprise meeting officially over, everyone left the room in hopes of finishing their assigned tasks before clocking out for the day. As you sat down at your desk, however, you heard an irritatingly familiar voice ask, “So, are you looking forward to the retreat?”

“Not even a little,” you replied, not even looking up from your work. “Are you?”

“Oh, totally,” Soonyoung said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “What could be better than being stuck with ‘Cheol and his ‘team building exercises’ for an entire week? It’s gonna be the highlight of my year.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit at Soonyoung’s comment before you said, “Oh, you’re so right. I can’t believe I didn’t even consider the excitement of spending a week locked in a room with our entire team doing trust falls and talking about our feelings!”

After a brief silence, Soonyoung said, “Damn, (Y/N), I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean, you never make jokes at work. I kind of thought you didn’t know how to make jokes at all.”

“Well, I do. I also know how to be serious when it’s necessary, like when I’m at work.”

“You really need to loosen up sometimes,” Soonyoung commented, his growing frustration evident in his voice.

“I do loosen up, just not here.”

Soonyoung huffed and walked away, seemingly bored of talking to you. You wanted to tell yourself that you didn’t care about his indifference, but you found that a small part of you was disappointed that he’d walked away. Sure, he drove you insane, but you also missed his little comments when he wasn’t around. However, you knew that if you told him that, you’d never hear the end of it. So, you kept your confusing feelings to yourself.

The rest of the week passed with only a few minor arguments with Soonyoung, and before you knew it, you were driving to the hotel where you were supposed to be staying for the retreat. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t dreading the retreat as much as you did when you first found out about it. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to be stuck in a hotel with your coworkers for an extended period of time in an unfamiliar area, but you still wanted to be optimistic. After all, you were getting paid to be there, which meant that you basically had a week off from your actual job while still bringing in money. Plus, a small part of you hoped to meet an attractive guy to hook up with in your free time.

Your optimism was snuffed out like a flame when you got to the hotel. Due to a scheduling error, despite both of your requests to the contrary, you would be sharing a room with Soonyoung. You tried to talk to Seungcheol about the error, but he told you that there was nothing that he could do. So, while you weren’t happy about it, you decided that you would try to make the best of a bad situation.

When you got to your room, you found Soonyoung sitting on one of the beds and scrolling on his phone. Without even looking up at you, he said, “Before you say anything, just know that I’m not happy about this either.”

“I wasn’t planning on saying anything,” you retorted. “I just wanted to sit in the room. Is that ok with you?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. You’re the one that gets mad at me every time we talk.”

“No, I don’t. I just get tired of your pretentious fucking attitude.”

“I’m not pretentious; I just don’t screw around at work. You might wanna take some notes.”

“Why, so I can be the most boring person in the office? I’ll pass.”

“Fuck this, I’m going out.”

“Bye!”

After you left the room, you wandered around for what felt like hours before you found your friends Wonwoo and Mingyu at the hotel’s bar. When they saw you, they cheered and invited you over with smiles on their faces and drinks in their hands. Once Wonwoo noticed the look of irritation on your face, however, his smile was replaced with a look of concern as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sharing a room with Soonyoung,” you spat.

“Are you serious?” Mingyu asked. “I thought you specifically asked to share with anyone but him.”

“I did. Seungcheol said there was an error when the trip was booked, and there’s nothing he can do. Which means I have to deal with him for a week, with no breaks.”

“I mean, this is a break, isn’t it?” Wonwoo asked.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you replied.

As if on cue, you heard a voice behind you say, “Wonwoo! Mingyu! How are you guys?”

“Hi, Soonyoung!” Mingyu said, a mischievous smile forming on his face. “Wonwoo and I were just leaving to get some rest. (Y/N) just got here, though. You two should hang out!”

You gave Mingyu a death glare, and Soonyoung said, “That’s ok. I don’t think she wants to hang out with me.” If you didn’t know any better, you would have said that he sounded sad as he said it. That wouldn’t make any sense, though. Soonyoung hated you. Why would he be upset that you didn’t want to hang out with him?

You brushed off the thought and opened your mouth to speak, but before you could get the words out, Mingyu smiled again and said, “That’s not true! She’d love to spend some time with you. Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?”

In that moment, you felt like you couldn’t say no. So, you gritted your teeth and said, “That’s right. I don’t mind,” turning around to see Soonyoung’s face change from one of disappointment to one of what you could really only describe as excitement.

“Really? It’s ok if-”

“Really, Soonyoung,” you said, softening when you saw the change in his demeanor. “Why don’t you find us a spot to sit, and I’ll order some drinks.” He nodded and left to find a table, and you turned back to your friend and asked, “What the fuck was that?”

“Trust me, (Y/N),” Mingyu said. “I’ve known Soonyoung since high school. He’s an idiot, but he’s not an asshole. He just acts all weird with you because he likes you.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Watch how he acts after we leave. Then, when the two of you inevitably get drunk and hook up tonight, you can fall asleep afterward with the satisfaction that I was right.”

You rolled your eyes and said, “Sure, whatever. Bye.”

Mingyu and Wonwoo left, and you decided to order some sodas for you and Soonyoung. After all, you didn’t know what kind of alcohol he liked, and you really didn’t want to get drunk around him.

When you got back to the table with two glasses of cola in hand, Soonyoung smiled and said, “Thanks!”

“No problem. I didn’t know what kind of drink you’d want, so I just got sodas.”

“That’s ok. I don’t drink much, so I don’t really know either,” he responded with a laugh.

“Fair enough.”

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes before Soonyoung asked, “So, how was the drive here?”

“It could have been better. There was so much more traffic than I’m used to,” you responded with a soft laugh.

“Oh my god, I know! I guess Seungcheol picked a busy weekend or something. Listen, I love the guy, but his timing sucks when it comes to planning company events.”

You laughed a bit at Soonyoung’s comment, and some of the awkwardness in the air seemed to dissipate. You also noticed that there was a faint blush on his cheeks, but you decided not to comment on it. After all, you didn’t want the awkwardness to come back.

When Soonyoung heard your laugh, he was certain that it was the most beautiful sound that he’d ever heard. Sure, he still thought that you were far too serious at work, but actually interacting with you outside of the office made him start to reconsider the way he felt about you. He realized that he liked you a lot, and for a brief moment, he thought about asking you to continue the party in your room. He decided against it, however, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or come on too strongly.

As the night went on, you found yourself really enjoying Soonyoung’s company. He was one of the funniest people you’d talked to in a long time, he actually paid attention when you spoke, and he didn’t make a single rude comment the entire time you sat with him, still drinking sodas because neither of you wanted alcohol. You started to wonder what was different, since you’d been alone with him before, but you decided not to think about it too much. After all, there were far more interesting things to think about.

Whether it was the desperation that came from the dry spell you’d found yourself in for the past several months, the way Soonyoung looked at you as you told some story about a girls’ night gone wrong, or some strange combination of the two, you had no idea. All you knew was that you wanted Soonyoung, and you wanted him immediately.

After you finished your story, you looked at Soonyoung and asked, “Do you wanna go back to the room?”

With a smirk on his face that you knew would be the death of you, he asked, “Why? I thought we were having fun here.”

“Oh, I am,” you began, your nerves slowly starting to get the better of you. “I just thought we could have more fun back in the room.”

“What kind of fun?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Well, I have a few ideas.”

“I can’t wait to hear them.”

“When we get back to the room, I’d be happy to show you,” he said with a wink.

Before you knew it, you were paying for the drinks and walking back to your room with Soonyoung. When you got there, you had to wait for him to unlock the door, and it was torture. When the door finally opened, however, the frustration you were feeling shifted into something that you couldn’t quite name.

Soonyoung pinned you to the door the moment it was shut again, his lips meeting yours with a passion that could only be described as animalistic. As his lips moved against yours, a soft moan left your mouth, and he took that as an opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Eventually, he pulled away to let you breathe, and the only thing you could think to say was, “Wow.”

“Already so flustered you can’t even speak? You’re so cute,” Soonyoung commented with a soft laugh.

A soft whine slipped out in response, and you said, “Please do something.”

“What do you want me to do, baby?”

“Want you to touch me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Just, please,” you begged, desperate for anything beyond what you’d already been given.

Soonyoung pretended to think for a minute before he smiled at you and said, “Lie down on the bed for me, baby.”

You immediately did as you were told, and Soonyoung settled himself between your legs before pulling your skirt up and your panties down. Then, he started placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh, only biting occasionally. Every touch left you wanting more, and you could only take so much teasing. When it all got to be too much, you whined and said, “Please, just fuck me already!”

Soonyoung laughed against you and said, “Alright, princess.”

With no additional warning or teasing, Soonyoung slowly licked a stripe up your pussy. A loud moan left your mouth at the sudden stimulation, and it was all you could do to stay still as he continued to eat you out there was nothing in the world that he wanted to do more.

Each time he moaned against you, shockwaves of pleasure went through your body, and you knew that you probably wouldn’t last long. You wanted to be embarrassed, since your annoying coworker was the reason you were so turned on, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care. After all, Soonyoung was already better at pleasing you than any other man you’d been with before him.

“Fuck, feels so good,” you moaned, tangling your hands in his hair. Soonyoung didn’t respond verbally, but the way he started to move his tongue faster after you spoke told you that he heard you loud and clear.

It was only a matter of time before you started to feel your release building inside you. With a loud whine, you said, “’m close.” Soonyoung groaned against you one more time, and that was all it took for your orgasm to wash over you with a loud moan of his name. He continued his movements as you reached your high, stopping just before the pleasure would have turned into pain.

Once you caught your breath, you sat up and pulled Soonyoung into a kiss, and the fire of lust that you thought had been put out was lit once again. Within minutes, both of you had thrown your clothes on the floor, and Soonyoung was on top of you. After he lined himself up with your entrance, you kissed him again, and he took the opportunity to carefully push into you.

A loud moan left your mouth as Soonyoung entered you, and you held onto him for dear life while you adjusted to his size. He was much bigger than the men you’d previously been with, so it took longer for you to adjust than you would have expected. Not that you were complaining, of course.

Once you were ready, you gave Soonyoung the green light, and he slowly started moving. Every drag of his cock inside you had you seeing stars, and you swore he was better in bed than anyone else that you’d been with before him. As he increased the speed of his thrusts, however, you found that you weren’t thinking about anyone else anymore.

Soonyoung loved watching you fall apart underneath him, if he was being completely honest. Sure, he didn’t exactly plan to sleep with you when he first ran into you at the bar, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. You felt too good around him for him to complain, and he loved every moan and whine that left your lips as he pounded into you.

Just like when he’d gotten you off with his tongue, you knew pretty early on that you probably wouldn’t last long with Soonyoung’s cock inside of you. Still, you really didn’t care. All you cared about was the pleasure coursing through your veins with every movement.

“Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Like this pussy was made for me,” Soonyoung said in between groans. You were too fucked out to respond verbally, but the fact that you started moaning louder after he spoke told him that you heard him loud and clear.

“I’m close, baby. Where do you want it?”

“Inside, please, please, please,” you begged, desperate for Soonyoung to fill you.

Within seconds, Soonyoung reached his high, filling you with cum. Your release came not long after that, and you pulled him in for another kiss as you came undone around his cock. Eventually, you had to pull away for air, but the way he looked into your eyes as you came down from your high left butterflies in your stomach and a smile on your face.

After you both caught your breath, Soonyoung said, “Let’s get you cleaned up, baby,” and climbed off of you. Once you felt like you could move, you took his outstretched hand and stood up, pulling him into a hug. When he let go, you both moved to clean up and get dressed.

Once you were both dressed and comfortable again, you pulled Soonyoung into a hug and asked, “Can we share a bed tonight?”

“Of course, baby. Which one?”

“I don’t think it matters,” you answered with a laugh.

Soonyoung smiled and led you to the bed furthest from the door, and you immediately snuggled into his side. The bed was small, so you had to lie down pretty much on top of him to avoid falling off, but neither of you really minded.

While Soonyoung held you close, the two of you talked about your interests and lives outside of work, with each of you hoping to get to know the other better. The conversation didn’t last very long though, since both of you fell asleep in a matter of minutes, surprised by the events of the day but happy to end it in each other’s arms.

The next morning, you woke up on the floor in between the room’s two beds. At some point during the night, you rolled over too far and fell out of Soonyoung’s bed, much to your frustration and his amusement when he woke up and realized what had happened. Once he stopped laughing, however, he helped you up and asked, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. I guess I fell out of bed while I was sleeping.”

“I noticed. You looked kind of cute on the floor,” he replied, starting to laugh again.

You pouted at his comment and said, “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m just laughing because of how adorable you are, sweetheart.”

You started to smile when he called you cute again and pulled him into a hug. With a groan of frustration, you said, “I really don’t want to participate in whatever Seungcheol has planned for today.”

“I know. I’m pretty sure I heard him mention trust falls when we were all in the lobby last night.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said, laughing at the cliché team building your boss apparently had planned.

“I wish I was. But I swear, I specifically heard him say the words ‘trust falls’ to Jeonghan.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, dreading the event even more.

“Yeah, I’m not excited about it either. Look on the bright side, though. I’ll be right there with you the whole time, no matter how awkward and boring it gets.”

You smiled when you heard Soonyoung say that he’d be there with you, and without really thinking about it, you kissed him again. He deepened the kiss pretty much immediately, with his hands finding their way to your hair and pulling slightly. A soft moan left your lips, and he pulled away with a grin on his face before he said, “Later, baby.”

“That’s not fair! You started it!”

“Yes I did.”

You laughed at his boldness, and the two of you got ready together to face the day ahead. While you went about your morning routine, you occasionally noticed Soonyoung staring at you with a dopey grin on his face and something that you couldn’t quite identify in his eyes. The third time you caught him staring at you, you finally decided to just ask, “What are you looking at?”

“You. Why do you ask? Is it a problem?”

“No. I just wanna know what’s so interesting that I’ve caught you looking at me three different times now.”

“You are. Plus, you look really fucking sexy,” he replied with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but your soft laugh at his answer betrayed your attempt at looking annoyed.

After your little exchange, you went back to getting ready, and when it was time to leave, you and Soonyoung left together to go to the convention center near your hotel. When you got there, several of your coworkers stared at the two of you, clearly perplexed as to how you two were interacting without an argument.

When you ran into Mingyu, he gave you a knowing smile and asked, “So, how was your night?”

“It was pretty good,” you admitted, looking at Soonyoung as you spoke. “Turns out we have more in common than we thought.”

“See?” Mingyu asked. “I told you to trust me.”

Before Soonyoung could ask what Mingyu meant, Wonwoo arrived and said, “So, (Y/N), I see you had an interesting night.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment and said, “Shut up.”

“Shit, we have to go!” Mingyu groaned. “Do you remember where Seungcheol we were doing the things?”

“No, I don’t,” you answered.

“I do,” Soonyoung said. “Follow me.”

You followed Soonyoung down one of the convention center’s many hallways until you stood in front of a door that was labeled, “Carat Interactive Team Building.” When you entered the room, you noticed a very large stage, complete with a microphone and a banner above it that said, “Trust Falls.” That was when you realized that Soonyoung really wasn’t kidding about what he’d overheard the night before, and you stifled a laugh. You didn’t find the situation funny anymore, however, when your boss took his place in front of the microphone with a look of what could only be described as rage on his face. With a deep sigh, he began, “Welcome to day one of the Carat Interactive team building retreat. We’re here today so that you all can build stronger bonds with your teammates and hopefully learn something new about what it really means to work together and trust each other.”

Soonyoung snickered at Seungcheol’s introduction and said, “We wouldn’t need to learn how to work together if you were better at coordinating.”

“What was that, Soonyoung?” Seungcheol asked, clearly tired of your coworker’s bullshit.

“I said that we wouldn’t need to learn how to work together if you were better at coordinating,” Soonyoung repeated loudly, unfazed by Seungcheol’s anger.

Seungcheol sighed again before he smiled and said, “You know what, thank you, Soonyoung. Thank you so much for volunteering to start our first activity of the day.”

“Hey, I didn’t-” Soonyoung began.

“I don’t care!” Seungcheol exclaimed, his previous rage replaced with unsettling excitement. “Our first team building exercise is trust falls. Each of you will take turns coming up onto this stage and sharing something about yourself that you’ve never told the rest of the team. After you share, you will turn so that your back is facing your teammates and fall backward, trusting your teammates to catch you. Is that clear?” After a series of vague expressions of affirmation and nods from your coworkers, your boss added, “Come on up, Soonyoung! Thank you so much for agreeing to go first.”

Hesitantly, Soonyoung joined Seungcheol on stage and asked, “Why are we doing this?”

“I just told you why. Now, share something that your teammates don’t know about you!” Seungcheol replied, the unsettling excitement in his voice making him sound like a game show host that had been possessed by a demon.

Seungcheol stepped out of the way, and with a sigh, Soonyoung stepped closer to the microphone as you and the rest of your coworkers stepped closer to the stage to catch him. After another deep breath, he said, “I really don’t want to be here right now,” his solemn demeanor making it seem like he was sharing his darkest secret with the group instead of just being a smartass.

You laughed at his “admission,” which earned you a glare from Seungcheol. He didn’t say anything, though, which was a huge relief.

As everyone else on your team took turns sharing secrets and falling, you realized that Seungcheol had intentionally picked you last. You should have been upset, but all you could think about was how grateful you were that you got to put off your part of the exercise for as long as possible.

When Seungcheol called your name, you made your way onto the stage, and he said, “What would you like to share with your teammates today?”

With a deep breath to calm your nerves, you said, “I worry too much about what other people think, and sometimes I think that no one actually likes me.”

You stepped forward, turned your back to your coworkers, and fell, hoping that someone would actually catch you. After you fell, you felt several sets of arms holding you above the ground. When your feet were back on the floor, you turned and realized that Soonyoung was one of the people that caught you. With the same smirk on his face that he had at the bar, he said, “I mean, I had a feeling that you would fall for me after last night, but this seems a bit excessive.”

You laughed at his comment and said, “Thank you.”

With all of the trust falls complete, Seungcheol dismissed you all from the auditorium by saying, “That’s all we had planned for today. Enjoy the rest of your day, everyone, but don’t do anything stupid. I’m looking at you, Soonyoung.”

The man in question laughed and reached his hand out to grab yours. You smiled at the small gesture, and he said, “So, what do you wanna do now?”

“I think I’d like to just go back to the room, if that’s ok.”

“Of course, baby.”

You and Soonyoung made your way back to the hotel room, and when you got there, you collapsed on your bed and sighed. Soonyoung laughed a bit at your actions, and you asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. You’re just so cute.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Hmmm, no thanks,” he responded with a laugh. You laughed along with him, and he took a seat on his bed. Once the laughter turned to silence, however, his demeanor grew serious, and he asked, “You know that I really do like you, right?”

“What?”

“I’m talking about what you said during the trust falls. You know that I really do like you, right?”

“Oh. Well, I guess I do now.”

“I mean it.”

“Thanks,” you said with a soft smile.

There was another silence before Soonyoung asked, “So, what do you wanna do?”

“Can we just talk?”

“Yeah, of course. Getting to know you better has been really nice.”

With that, the two of you talked about anything and everything that came to mind until it got too late for either of you to keep your eyes open. That was when you both went to sleep, each of you in your separate beds this time. You briefly considered asking if you could share a bed with Soonyoung again, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable or wake up on the floor again, so you decided against it.

The rest of the week went by with no other major events, and you couldn’t wait to finally go home after being stuck in an unfamiliar city with your coworkers for a week. The drive home was far more peaceful than you expected, with significantly less traffic than when you’d driven to the hotel at the start of the week. When you finally got home, the first thing you did was text Soonyoung.

Y/N: Hi. Just wanted to say I had a lot of fun with you this week.

Soonyoung: I had fun too. Any time you wanna hang out, just let me know.

Y/N: I will, thanks. See you at work tomorrow.

Soonyoung: See you tomorrow.

After that, you decided to enjoy the rest of your day by ordering a pizza from the restaurant near your apartment and watching your favorite movie for the thousandth time while you ate it. The time to just exist in your apartment and not worry about expectations from your boss or what your coworkers thought of you was badly needed, and at the end of the day, you went to bed feeling much better about the mandatory fun your boss had spent the past week subjecting you to.

When you went back to work the following Monday, you noticed that everyone in the office was far nicer to you than usual, except for Soonyoung. He wasn’t exactly rude to you, but he also didn’t talk to you nearly as much as he had when the two of you were away. You didn’t worry too much, though, assuming that he was just tired from the trip and wanted a bit of space.

After a few weeks of Soonyoung not talking to you unless it was absolutely necessary, however, you started to worry. Had you said or done something to upset him at some point while you were at the retreat? You had no idea, so you decided to try again to talk to him whenever you could get him alone.

The opportunity to ask Soonyoung what the hell was going on came when you least expected it. You’d gone into the office break room and noticed that he was the only person there. He saw you at the same time that you saw him, and he tried to leave the room. Before he could, though, you stood in front of the door and asked, “Why haven’t you been talking to me?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he answered, clearly uncomfortable.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you answered, sick of his shit already. “Since we got home, you’ve refused to talk to me unless you absolutely have to. Why?”

With a sigh, Soonyoung said, “I just got nervous around you after the stuff that happened during the retreat. Can I make it up to you?”

“How?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, baby,” he answered, with that god damn smirk forming on his face as he spoke. Honestly, it probably shouldn’t have had the effect on you that it did, especially when you considered how upset you were that he’d been avoiding you. When you looked into his eyes, however, you didn’t care that he’d upset you. All you could think about was how badly you wanted him.

So, you turned away from Soonyoung just long enough to lock the door before turning back to him and kissing him with everything you had. The intensity almost knocked him over, but he stood firm as he wrapped his arms around you. You moaned softly into the kiss, and Soonyoung pulled away just long enough to say, “Just tell me what you want, baby, and it’s yours.”

“Want you.”

“I kind of figured as much,” he teased. “Do you want my mouth, my fingers, or my cock, princess?”

“Fingers, please?”

“Your wish is my command, my darling,” he said as he shifted your panties to the side and gently inserted two fingers into you. You cried out at the feeling, moving your hips ever so slightly as he fucked you.

With another loud whine, you said, “Feels so good.”

“I know, baby. I love how much of a mess you are for me.”

His words made your head spin, and you started to buck your hips up to meet his hand again. With every movement, you felt yourself already heading toward your release. This time, you were slightly embarrassed, but your arousal overruled any judgement or embarrassment as you lost yourself in the way Soonyoung’s fingers felt inside of you.

“I’m close,” you said, desperate to reach your high.

Once he processed what you said, Soonyoung started to lightly kiss your neck, and his mouth on you was the exact push that you needed to go tumbling over the edge. He continued to gently fuck you through your release until you started to push his hand away, overwhelmed by the continued stimulation.

Once you came down from your high, you leaned closer to Soonyoung to kiss him, but he moved at the last second, sending you tumbling to the floor. After you caught your breath, you stood up and asked, “What the fuck?”

Soonyoung didn’t answer, though, because he was too busy unlocking the door and running out of the room, since you were no longer blocking him. Once you realized that he’d left, and you were alone in the break room, you started to sob uncontrollably, wondering what you’d done wrong for him to treat you like you were nothing to him unless he was fucking you.

Once you calmed down, you stood up, brushed yourself off, and walked out of the break room to go back to the work you’d left unfinished. When you got back to your desk, Wonwoo approached you and asked, “Are you ok? Mingyu said he heard sobs coming from the break room.”

The question almost made you cry again, but you managed to maintain your composure long enough to choke out, “I’m fine. It’s a long story. Can I tell you later?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks for looking out for me.”

“That what friends are for,” he said with a smile.

Wonwoo walked away after that, and you went back to your work. For the most part, you didn’t have any additional problems, which you appreciated. The only real issue was the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened with Soonyoung. Why had he been so cold toward you after what happened in the break room? You had no idea, so you tried to the best of your ability to not think about it. All of your thoughts were on Soonyoung once again, however, when he sent you a text after work.

Soonyoung: I’m sorry I left as quickly as I did. Seungcheol texted me to tell me to get back to work, and I panicked.

Y/N: Are you fucking serious? You couldn’t have said something before you left the room?

After that, you didn’t get a reply, so you decided to try again to avoid thinking about Soonyoung. Just like every other time you’d tried to purge unwanted thoughts from your head, however, thoughts of him and what he wanted from you plagued pretty much every waking moment. After weeks of struggling with what to do, you decided to go to the man that started it all for advice.

When you showed up at Mingyu’s apartment unannounced, your friend was surprised, to say the least. Regardless, he happily let you into his apartment and asked, “What’s up?”

“We need to talk about Soonyoung.”

“What do you mean?

“He won’t talk to me unless he wants to fuck.”

“That doesn’t sound like Soonyoung. He’s an idiot, sure, but he’s not an asshole.” To prove your point, you showed Mingyu your messaging history with Soonyoung. He was surprised to say the least, but he didn’t try to argue anymore. All he said was, “I’m so sorry. If I’d known he’d act that way, I would never have set you two up.”

“I’m not here for an apology. I’m here for advice. I want to ignore the way I feel about him, but I just can’t anymore.”

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘the way you feel about him?’”

You sighed and answered, “I think I want an actual relationship with him.”

Mingyu was shocked by your admission, but once he got over that, he said, “I think you should tell him that.”

“’Gyu, I love you, but are you crazy?”

“Please, just trust me on this.”

“Trusting you is what got me into this situation in the first place!”

“And trusting me is what’s going to get you out of it. I know Soonyoung. If you tell him, he’ll realize that he’s been acting like an idiot and fix things.”

With a sigh, you reluctantly said, “Ok. Thanks for the advice.”

“It’s no problem. You know I’ll always be here for you.”

With that, you pulled Mingyu into a hug, hoping that he was right about Soonyoung. As you left his apartment, you contemplated when you wanted to talk to him. After some careful consideration, you knew exactly when and how you wanted to confront him.

In the end, you decided that Valentine’s Day was the perfect time to go to Soonyoung’s apartment and confront him. You didn’t initially want the discussion to happen on the holiday, but when you realized that it was the next time you would be free, you knew that you had the perfect opportunity to solve the Soonyoung problem once and for all. Either he would confess that he wanted more, which was perfect for the holiday of love, or he would tell you he never wanted to see you again, which would be a perfect example of dark irony. Regardless of the outcome, you figured that there was no better time to get the answers that you so desperately wanted.

You knocked on Soonyoung’s door, and it took some time for him to answer it. When he opened the door and saw you standing in front of him, he tried to close the door. Before he could fully shut it, however, you yelled, “Can we talk, please?”

Hesitantly, Soonyoung opened the door again and asked, “What do you want?”

“I wanna know why you only talk to me when you’re horny.”

“What? What the fuck do you-”

“Every time you’ve called or texted me since we’ve been home from that stupid retreat that Seungcheol put together, it’s been because you wanted sex. I want to know why you think so little of me that you think that’s ok.”

“I don’t think that little of you.”

“Then why the fuck do you do it?”

With a deep sigh, he answered, “Just come inside, and we’ll talk.”

Reluctantly, you agreed, and he moved out of the doorway to let you in. Once you were in his apartment, he led you to his couch. As you sat down, you asked, “Why did we have to talk here?”

With a deep sigh, Soonyoung said, “So I could do this,” and kissed you.

You started to melt into the kiss, just like you always did when you were with him, but it only took a minute for you to snap out of it, pull away, and say, “I’m not having sex with you today, Soonyoung.”

“I know.”

You were quiet after that, confused by the way he was acting and irritated that you let the situation get as far as it did. After a few minutes lost in your thoughts, you said, “Just tell me what you want. If you just want someone to have sex with, tell me. If you want a relationship, tell me. Either way, I’ll be ok. I just can’t stand the games.”

It was in that moment that Soonyoung realized that he fucked up. With another deep sigh, he said, “I want a relationship with you. I’m sorry that I ever made you think otherwise. Can you forgive me?”

You softened when you noticed the tears forming in his eyes, and against your better judgement, you said, “Of course.”

Soonyoung smiled and pulled you into a hug after that, relieved that he hadn’t lost you completely. While he held you close, he said, “Does this mean what I think it means?” You nodded against him, and he let go of you just long enough to cup your face in his hands and say, “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Thank you for finally giving me a straight answer about what I am to you.”

With that same smirk on his face, he asked, “So, baby, how do you want to celebrate our first Valentine’s Day together?”

“I’m happy to celebrate however you want. As long as we’re spending time together, I’m fine with anything. I still don’t want to have sex tonight, though.”

“That’s perfectly fine, princess. I’m sorry about how I treated you. You must think I’m an idiot, huh?”

“Just a little, but you’re my idiot.”

With that, you relaxed into Soonyoung’s hold, content with the way your conversation went. You weren’t entirely sure that you trusted him yet, but you still wanted to give him a chance. After all, you liked the way that he made you feel now that you weren’t angry anymore.

Thank you for reading! I loved participating in this event. Once again, thank you to @ddeonghwa-s for the opportunity to participate! If you liked this, please like and reblog! If you wanna be tagged in future works, fill out the taglist form here! If you want to check out my other works, check out my main masterlist. If you want to see what else is in the works, you can check my upcoming works list! If none of that interests you, or there's something specific you want to see, feel free to send a request via my asks or dms!

Thank you again for reading, have a lovely Valentine's Day!

[aspenmissing]

Hi! If you're up for angst, can I pls request Arcane characters (including Jayvik) with their s/o *nearly* dying from childbirth? Maybe the whole pregnancy was fine, but during the birth their s/o started bleeding out, or an embolism? (Anything complications you think will add to the emotions is fine ^^)

I feel like this would def be an unplanned pregnancy considering the characters, but it wouldn't be an unwelcome one as they love their s/o so much. Also, childbirth causing possible death yet needed to bring life into the world, is such an interesting contrast that the characters would feel so deeply. Esp as their s/o nearly dies during the ordeal.

I love your writing and the way you craft scenarios so throughly for each character ❤️✨ Thank you!!

ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ-ɪꜱʜ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 8428 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ, ᴄʜɪʟᴅʙɪʀᴛʜ, ɴᴇᴀʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ɴᴇᴀʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴠᴇʟᴠᴇᴛ! ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ! ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ꜰɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴀꜱ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴅɪᴄᴋ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ). ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ! <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

The soft glow of the moonlight filtered through the curtains as Jayce sat next to Y/N's bed, watching her sleep. Her pregnancy had been nothing short of perfect. Every doctor’s visit had been smooth, her health had been impeccable, and the baby growing inside her was a constant reminder of the life they were about to bring into the world. They hadn’t planned on having a child so soon, but as the months passed, the excitement and joy they felt grew beyond anything they could have imagined. They spent months preparing, laughing together, and even arguing over names for the baby, but the closer they got to the due date, the more Jayce found himself watching Y/N with a nervous tenderness he couldn’t shake.

He had always been a man of science, of logic, but nothing in his life had ever felt more fragile than this moment. Y/N, the woman he loved, carrying their child, and the realization that the fragile beauty of life could slip away in an instant.

=

The day arrived with the usual excitement. The contractions started slowly, and Y/N smiled, grabbing his hand with a calmness that only made his heart race more. Everything felt normal. Jayce held her hand through every wave, his eyes full of love and admiration, telling her how proud he was of her.

Hours passed. The hospital room was quiet except for the sound of medical staff moving around, checking Y/N, and adjusting monitors. Jayce stood beside her, his heart full of hope, his mind trying to remain calm.

But something changed. The monitors beeped, and suddenly there was urgency in the air. Y/N’s face contorted with pain, and Jayce’s eyes widened as he looked at the doctors.

“What's happening?” he asked, his voice breaking.

The doctor didn’t answer immediately, instead giving instructions to the staff. Y/N reached for his hand again, her grip tight but shaky.

“It’s going to be okay,” Jayce said softly, trying to reassure her even though he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself.

“Jayce,” Y/N whispered, her voice weak and strained. “I love you.”

He kissed her forehead gently. “I love you more.”

But the minutes stretched into hours. Complications set in, and the room was flooded with doctors and nurses. Jayce felt helpless, staring at Y/N, his mind whirling with every possible outcome. The birth of their child—the miracle of life—had suddenly turned into a battle for survival.

He didn’t know how long it had been since the crisis began. His hands were shaking as he squeezed Y/N’s, trying to steady himself. He watched as the medical staff worked frantically, but all he could see was Y/N's pale face, her breathing shallow, her energy fading.

"Come on, Y/N... stay with me," Jayce whispered, brushing a lock of her hair from her forehead. "I can't do this without you."

The world felt like it was crashing down around him, but still, he clung to the thought of their child—of the family they had dreamed of. They had made it through the first hurdle, but something was terribly wrong.

A soft cry broke through the tension. Their baby had arrived.

The doctor handed the newborn to a nurse, who rushed the baby away to be cleaned and examined. Jayce barely even noticed, his eyes fixed on Y/N, who had started to slip in and out of consciousness. He could see the blood seeping onto the sheets, and his heart stopped.

"Jayce," Y/N breathed, her voice barely audible.

"Hey, you’re going to be okay," Jayce said, his voice raw, his chest tightening. But his gaze was fixed on the staff working quickly around her.

The doctor immediately began to assess the situation. "She’s losing too much blood. We need to stabilize her now!"

His pulse quickened. He had heard the term “postpartum haemorrhage” before, but hearing it in real-time made the ground beneath him feel like it was crumbling. He could feel the heat rising in his body as panic surged through him.

The nurses began moving quickly, one applying pressure to Y/N’s abdomen while another attempted to administer fluids, but Jayce felt paralyzed, rooted to the spot, unable to move from her side.

“Y/N…My life” Jayce whispered, his voice breaking as he tried to catch her fading gaze. “Don’t leave me. Please, stay with me.”

Her hand, once so strong, slipped from his, her fingers slack. The room around them became a blur of movement. The life-saving attempts, the quiet, urgent orders being barked by the doctors—everything felt distant as he fixated on her pale face.

"Stay with me," he pleaded, his voice trembling.

His mind raced, his thoughts swirling into chaos. How could this be happening? Their baby had been born healthy, perfect. How could they be faced with losing Y/N now?

Another cry echoed through the room—the sound of their son. Jayce caught sight of the tiny infant in the nurse’s arms, but his attention was divided, his heart torn between the two most important things in his life.

And then, everything stopped.

A nurse came close to him. "We’re doing everything we can. You need to trust us."

Jayce couldn’t bring himself to speak, his voice a tight knot in his throat. All he could do was stare at Y/N, trying to will her to stay awake, to hang on. It felt like time had stretched to an unbearable length.

He reached for her hand again, desperate.

"Y/N…" he whispered, tears streaking down his face. "You have to wake up. Please. I need you."

=

A full day passed before she stirred. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, weak but aware. Jayce let out a shaky breath of relief, his body trembling as he held her hand tightly, his son cradled in his arms. He had spent every minute of the past twenty-four hours at her side, torn between the desperate hope that she would wake up and the overwhelming fear that he could lose her.

"Jayce," she murmured, her voice a whisper, but it was enough. "Our baby... is he okay?"

His heart soared with the sound of her voice. He kissed her forehead, his lips brushing against her skin, gentle and filled with emotion. "Yes, love. He’s perfect. You’re perfect."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked down at their son, sleeping peacefully in his arms, his tiny hands curled into fists. He couldn’t help but marvel at how fragile and yet how resilient this little life was. He looked at Y/N again, his heart swelling with love for both her and their child.

Y/N’s eyes shifted to the baby in his arms, and her expression softened. Her hand, still weak, reached out slowly, as if it took all her strength just to touch him. Jayce carefully placed their son into her arms, guiding her to cradle him. Her fingers trembled as she held him, but there was a profound tenderness in her touch, and Jayce could see the love already radiating between them.

The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the sheets, the faint sound of the baby’s breath, and the rhythmic beeping of the monitors that had kept them on edge for so long. Jayce settled beside her again, his gaze never leaving her face, his heart full of gratitude and relief.

“I was so scared,” Jayce confessed softly, his voice raw. “When you were so still... I didn’t know if I could do this without you.”

Y/N managed a weak smile, her eyes heavy with exhaustion but full of warmth. “You never had to do it without me. We’re in this together.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried all the strength he had come to love.

Jayce brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers trembling slightly. "I don’t know how I would have gotten through it without you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve always been my rock. And now we have him...”

Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears as she looked at their son. “Our son,” she whispered, the words filled with awe. “He’s perfect. Just like you said.”

Jayce’s heart clenched at the sight of her, so fragile but so full of love. The worst had passed. The crisis had been a terrifying storm, but it was over now, and they had made it through—together. But even though Y/N was stable, the road to full recovery would still take time. Jayce wasn’t naïve enough to think everything was behind them. There would be moments of doubt, moments of struggle, but they had already proven how strong they were together.

Finally, he pulled away just enough to kiss her softly on the lips, the pressure of the kiss tender and full of meaning. “You did it,” he whispered against her lips. “You’re going to be okay, Y/N. We’re going to be okay.”

A faint smile crossed her face as her eyes softened, her gaze lingering on him. “We did it,” she whispered back, and Jayce’s world was whole again.

The cries of their son filled the room, a sound so pure and full of promise. Jayce glanced at the new-born—his son—and then back to Y/N, the love in his eyes unmistakable. He had never felt more grateful, more connected to her, more determined to protect their family.

And as he held Y/N's hand in his, feeling the warmth return to her skin, he knew, despite everything, their family had made it through the storm. They had survived. Together. And there was nothing they couldn’t face from here on out.

VIKTOR

The room was eerily silent, save for the quiet hum of the machines and the muffled sounds of the bustling hospital outside the door. Viktor sat in the chair beside the bed, his cane resting against his leg, his hands gripping the soft fabric of the baby blanket as if it were the only thing tethering him to reality.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

The pregnancy had been perfect. No complications, no scares—just quiet anticipation and soft whispers in the middle of the night. Viktor had spent months preparing, ensuring that Y/N had everything she needed, that their daughter would come into the world without a single worry. He had held Y/N close at night, murmuring reassurances against her hair when she fretted over the future. He had traced circles over the swell of her belly, felt the gentle kicks beneath his fingertips, and imagined the tiny life they had created together. It had been perfect.

But now Y/N was gone—wheeled away in a frantic rush, her blood staining the pristine white sheets.

His hands trembled as he stared at the blanket, the one Y/N had crocheted herself. It was small, meant to swaddle their daughter, but now it felt heavy in his grasp. The weight of everything crashed down on him as the sterile smell of the hospital seeped into his senses.

He hadn’t even gotten to hold her.

Their daughter had been pulled into the world too soon, her first cries cut short as the doctors fought to keep both mother and child alive. There had been too much blood, too many rushed voices speaking words Viktor couldn't process. He had heard the urgency in their voices, the panic, the pleas for more hands, more supplies, more time.

Y/N was dying. The baby was barely clinging on.

And he was powerless.

His grip tightened on the blanket as his chest ached with a pain he couldn't describe. He had fought against fate for so long—against his own body, against time itself—but this? This was a cruelty he hadn't been prepared for.

How could he do this without her? How could he raise a child alone, without Y/N by his side to share in the triumphs and the sleepless nights? The thought of his daughter growing up without her mother, of him being forced to tell her about the woman she would never meet, made his stomach churn with despair.

The door creaked open, and Jayce stepped inside, his usual confidence stripped away, leaving only quiet concern in his expression. He didn’t say anything at first, just took a hesitant step forward before settling in the chair beside Viktor. He looked out of place in the stark hospital room, his broad shoulders tense, his hands clasped together like he was steeling himself for the worst.

“They’re doing everything they can,” Jayce said, his voice softer than Viktor had ever heard it.

Viktor let out a breath, sharp and uneven. “And if it is not enough?”

Jayce didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The uncertainty hung between them, thick and suffocating.

Viktor pressed a shaking hand to his forehead, willing himself to keep his composure, but it was slipping. He wasn’t a praying man—never had been—but in that moment, he would have begged any force in the universe to spare them. To let Y/N come back to him, to let their daughter breathe without struggling, to let them have the future they had planned together.

Just let them live.

The silence stretched, broken only when the distant sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Viktor looked up, his breath catching in his throat as he clutched the blanket even tighter.

Then the door opened again, and a nurse stepped inside. Her scrubs were wrinkled, and there were dark circles under her eyes, but her expression was gentle when she looked at Viktor.

“She made it through surgery,” the nurse said quietly. “It was touch and go for a while, but she’s stable now. She’ll need time to recover, but she’s alive.”

Viktor felt the breath he had been holding finally escape his lungs, though his chest still ached. His heart pounded in his ears, his body flooded with exhaustion and relief all at once.

“And… the baby?” His voice was barely above a whisper, afraid that if he asked, the answer might break him.

The nurse gave him a small, reassuring smile. “She’s fighting. She’s in the neonatal unit, but she’s strong.”

Strong. Just like her mother.

A choked sound escaped Viktor as he pressed the baby blanket to his face, his fingers curling around the soft yarn. His daughter was alive. Y/N was alive.

Jayce exhaled heavily beside him, clapping a firm hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “See? They’re fighters. Just like you.”

Viktor let out a watery chuckle, shaking his head. He didn’t feel like a fighter. Right now, he felt fragile, like one wrong move would shatter him entirely. But he would push forward, just as he always had, just as Y/N and their daughter had.

His eyes burned as he whispered, “I want to see them.”

The nurse nodded. “We’ll take you to see your daughter first. Y/N will be moved to recovery soon, and you can see her after.”

Viktor gripped his cane, using it to push himself up from the chair. His legs felt weak, but he forced himself to move, to follow the nurse down the cold hospital corridors. Jayce walked beside him, offering silent support should he need it.

=

The neonatal unit was quiet, bathed in a soft, sterile glow. The rhythmic beeping of monitors filled the air, a constant reminder of the fragile lives housed within the incubators. Viktor's steps were slow as he approached, his breath catching when he caught sight of her—his daughter.

She was so small, impossibly so, wrapped in a cocoon of wires and tubes. Her tiny chest rose and fell with each breath, her delicate fingers curled into fists as if she were already preparing to fight against the world. The nurse beside him spoke, explaining her condition, the treatments they were giving her, but Viktor barely heard any of it.

His fingers brushed against the glass of the incubator, a lump forming in his throat. "She is beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "So small… but beautiful."

Jayce stood back, watching but not intruding. This was Viktor’s moment.

Viktor felt a tear slip down his cheek, but he didn’t wipe it away. He simply stood there, gazing at his daughter—the proof that, despite all the odds, she had survived. And for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself believe that they would make it through this. Together.

JAYVIK

Y/N had never expected to be a mother, let alone so soon. When she had first told Viktor and Jayce about the pregnancy, she had been terrified. It wasn’t planned, but the fear had melted the moment she saw the way their eyes softened, the way Viktor’s fingers traced over her stomach with a rare, tender reverence, the way Jayce immediately pulled her into a secure, warm embrace.

“We’ll figure this out,” Jayce had promised, pressing a firm kiss to her temple. “Together.”

And together they had. The pregnancy had been as smooth as it could be. No unexpected pains, no complications—just blissful, uninterrupted anticipation as they prepared to meet their children. Jayce had taken on the role of the overprotective guardian, keeping Y/N from straining herself, ensuring she never lifted anything remotely heavy, doting on her in ways that both amused and frustrated her. Viktor, ever the analytical mind, ensured she had everything she needed, meticulously researching prenatal care, adjusting their home to be more comfortable, and making sure she followed a balanced diet.

They painted the nursery together, a soft shade of blue accented by golden stars that Viktor carefully detailed by hand. Jayce had built the crib himself, laughing when Viktor chided him about ensuring the structure was sturdy. They spent late nights together, curled up in bed, whispering about the kind of future their children would have. Would they be scientists? Inventors? Dreamers?

Then, the moment finally arrived.

=

The first cry of their newborn filled the room, a beautiful, piercing sound that had Jayce gasping in relief and Viktor squeezing Y/N’s hand with a soft, breathless, “Má lásko, you did it.” (My love)

A baby boy. Their son.

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes as a nurse swiftly took the newborn, cleaning him gently and wrapping him securely in a soft blanket. Once the baby was swaddled, the nurse turned to Jayce, placing the small, warm bundle into his arms. He hesitated for just a moment, staring in awe at the tiny life he now held, before cradling his son protectively against his chest. The baby squirmed slightly, his small face scrunching up as if displeased by the sudden shift in environment. Jayce let out an unsteady laugh, brushing his fingers over their son’s tiny hand, while Viktor sat beside them, his usually composed features completely undone by awe.

But then, something was wrong.

Y/N had barely been able to hold him before a wave of exhaustion crashed over her. Her vision blurred, her body felt too heavy, too cold. The warmth of their son in her arms became distant, almost unreal.

“Something’s not right,” she murmured weakly, her fingers trembling as they clutched Viktor’s sleeve. Panic flickered across his face as he turned to the doctors.

Then, chaos.

The second baby—their second child—was struggling. The doctors moved quickly, a sudden urgency gripping the room. Y/N gasped, her breathing uneven, her fingers slipping from Viktor’s grasp as her body grew limp.

“Her pulse is dropping!” a doctor called out.

“Get her to surgery! Now!” Someone shouted, and before either Jayce or Viktor could react, she was being rushed out of the room. Viktor nearly tripped trying to follow, but a nurse stopped him, a firm hand pressing against his chest.

“Wait—no, I need to—” Viktor tried to argue, his grip tightening on his cane, but the nurse shook her head.

“She’s in critical condition. We need to move now.” And then she was gone.

The silence that followed was deafening. The warmth of the moment, the joy of their firstborn, had been ripped away in an instant, replaced by uncertainty and fear.

Jayce sat heavily onto a chair, his hands buried in his hair as he struggled to breathe past the lump in his throat. Viktor stood frozen, eyes fixed on the door she had disappeared through. The hand that still trembled around his cane was the only sign of his distress, but Jayce could see it—could feel the way the weight of helplessness bore down on both of them.

Then, a small sound. A whimper, a tiny hiccup.

The baby.

Jayce forced himself to move, to look down at the small bundle in his arms. Their son squirmed slightly, his little hands curling into fists, his nose scrunching in protest. He was warm, alive, here.

Jayce looked at Viktor, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s strong, Vik. She’s going to make it.”

Viktor swallowed hard, stepping closer to look at their child—at the life Y/N had brought into the world despite the odds. He reached out, brushing the baby’s cheek with a featherlight touch, and for the first time since Y/N was taken away, his eyes closed, his forehead resting against Jayce’s shoulder.

“What if she doesn’t?” Viktor’s voice was barely above a whisper, uncharacteristically vulnerable. “What if—”

“She will.” Jayce’s grip on the baby tightened slightly, as if grounding himself in that reality. “She has to.”

They sat there in silence, watching their son, both desperately clinging to the hope that Y/N would return to them. That their family would be whole.

And all they could do was wait.

=

Time crawled by, each passing moment stretching unbearably. Every time the door opened, both of them would jolt, hoping for news, only to be met with more silence. Jayce paced the room with their son nestled in his arms, rocking him gently, while Viktor sat still, his mind racing through worst-case scenarios he couldn’t afford to acknowledge.

Then, at long last, the door opened again, and a nurse stepped in.

“She’s stable,” the nurse said softly. ��She’s awake, and she’s been asking for you both.”

Jayce exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and lingering anxiety washing over him. Viktor let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, gripping his cane tightly as they both moved quickly to follow the nurse.

When they entered the room, Y/N was there, pale and exhausted, but alive. She was propped up against the pillows, her expression weary yet serene as she cradled a tiny bundle in her arms—a daughter. Their daughter.

A weak, but warm smile tugged at her lips as she looked at them. “You took your time,” she murmured, her voice hoarse but teasing.

Jayce let out a shaky laugh, stepping forward and carefully settling on one side of the bed while still holding their son. Viktor took the other side, his fingers brushing gently over her arm, as if to reassure himself that she was truly there.

Jayce wrapped an arm around them all, pulling them into a protective embrace. He pressed a lingering kiss to Y/N’s temple, his voice thick with emotion. “You scared the hell out of us.”

Viktor, ever the quieter one, leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. “Never do that again,” he murmured, his voice strained but filled with nothing but love.

Y/N chuckled softly, shifting slightly so their daughter was nestled more securely in her arms. “I’ll try,” she whispered, exhaustion tugging at her again.

For the first time since this had all begun, they were together. Whole.

And despite everything, it was perfect.

VANDER

The air in the room was heavy with fear, thick and suffocating, mingled with the distinct scent of sweat and iron. The rickety cot creaked under Y/N’s weight as she clutched at the frayed sheets, her body slick with sweat, her breathing ragged and strained. Every moment felt like an eternity as the baby pushed its way into the world—too fast, too violently. There was no time to prepare. There was no time for anything but the agonizing pain that tore through her.

Vander knelt beside her, his strong hand wrapped tightly around hers, his knuckles white from holding on with all the strength he could muster. He pressed his lips to her forehead, his brow furrowed with worry. "You’re doing so well, love," he murmured, though his voice cracked, betraying the fear gnawing at his insides. Every time she screamed, it felt like a blade to his heart. He had fought countless men in the pits, taken hits that left his body battered and bruised, but nothing could have prepared him for this. Nothing could have prepared him for watching the woman he loved suffer.

Y/N’s eyes were glazed with pain, and tears streaked down her face. She gripped his hand tightly, her nails digging into his skin as another wave of contractions hit.

“I can’t... Vander, it hurts... It hurts so much,” she cried, her voice raw and hoarse from hours of screaming.

Felicia, who had been tending to Y/N, moved with practiced hands, trying to keep everything calm as she prepared for the birth. Her face was tight with concern, but she was the only one they had who could help. Zaun had no doctors, no advanced medical tools—only a few trusted hands.

"You need to keep going, Y/N," Felicia urged, her voice firm despite the panic underlying it. "Stay with me now."

But all Vander could do was focus on Y/N. He leaned close, his voice low and steady, though it shook. "Please, love. Just a little longer. We’re almost there."

Her body shuddered beneath his touch, the pain flaring up with every contraction. She screamed again, and Vander closed his eyes for a moment, the sound nearly unbearable. It wasn’t just physical pain; it was the terror in her eyes, the helplessness. For a moment, he wondered if this would be the moment he lost her—if this moment would be their last together. His heart raced, and his hands trembled, but he never let go.

Then, finally, Felicia's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "The baby's coming, Vander!"

A shuddering cry filled the room, and Felicia quickly wrapped the baby in cloth. "It’s a girl," she said, forcing a smile, trying to keep the mood light despite the heavy atmosphere. "She’s strong. She’s breathing."

Vander blinked, the words taking a moment to register. His eyes welled with tears as he looked down at the tiny, wriggling thing in Felicia’s arms. He kissed Y/N’s forehead again, his lips trembling. "You hear that, love? We have a little girl."

But as his voice shook with hope, Y/N’s breath hitched. She didn’t respond.

Vander’s heart stopped, his eyes locked onto Y/N’s face. Her body had gone still—too still. Her breath was shallow, ragged, and the blood… there was too much of it. He felt a rush of panic that threatened to consume him.

Felicia’s face drained of colour as she assessed the situation. "She’s losing too much," she muttered, voice tense. "I need more cloth, more pressure. She’s slipping."

Vander’s hands moved to Y/N’s face, his voice breaking. "Y/N? Y/N, stay with me, love." He didn’t know what else to say. He was desperate, willing to beg, to do anything to keep her here with him.

Her eyes fluttered open, just barely, her lips moving in a whisper. "Vander… keep her safe."

He squeezed her hand tighter, trying to hold back the tears. "No," he growled, voice raw. "You tell her yourself, Y/N. You hear me?" He felt the grip of fear close around his throat. "Stay with me."

She gave him a weak smile, her body sagging under the weight of exhaustion and blood loss. Her eyes closed again, and this time, there was no response.

Silence.

For a heart-stopping moment, Vander thought the worst. He thought he had lost her. His breath stopped as a chill ran through him.

Felicia cursed under her breath as she pressed both hands firmly to Y/N’s stomach, working frantically. "She’s still alive," Felicia said, though her voice was strained. "Barely… Vander, we need to stop the bleeding, now!"

Vander’s hands were on autopilot, grabbing whatever fabric he could find, pressing it firmly against Y/N’s body, trying to apply pressure just as Felicia had instructed. His hands were shaking, but he didn’t care. He could feel the panic rising in his chest like an animal clawing at him, but he couldn’t let go. Not now. Not ever.

Minutes felt like hours. Every breath Y/N took seemed to be a battle, a fight against the dark abyss threatening to claim her. But then—finally—a breath. A weak, shuddering breath.

Vander’s eyes widened, his heart pounding with relief. His forehead pressed against Y/N’s, his shoulders shaking as he let out a broken laugh, full of disbelief. "You’re not leaving me that easy, love," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Not now. Not ever."

Felicia sat back on her heels, exhausted but relieved. She wiped her brow, her face still pale but with a faint trace of relief. "She’s not out of the woods, but… she’s here."

Vander’s tears fell freely as he held Y/N close, brushing her damp hair back from her face, his hands trembling as he placed the tiny bundle in her arms. Their daughter. The little girl who had almost cost them everything. He looked down at her, her tiny fingers curling weakly around his thumb. He traced a finger gently over the soft curve of her cheek, his throat tight.

"She’s got your nose," he murmured to Y/N, pressing another kiss to her sweat-damp hair. "She’s perfect."

And then, impossibly, Y/N’s fingers twitched—barely, but enough.

Vander’s breath caught, his heart swelling with the overwhelming rush of relief. He wrapped his arms around both of them—his love and their child. He kissed her temple once more, pressing a promise into her skin.

"I won’t ever let you go," he whispered, his voice steady now, filled with the depth of his unshakable devotion. "I’ll always protect you. Both of you."

And as the sun began to set outside their little home in Zaun, Vander held onto his family—his heart full, his love steadfast, and their future uncertain, but theirs nonetheless.

SILCO

The low, constant hum of Zaun echoed in the walls of Silco’s private quarters, the tension in the air thick enough to choke anyone within. Y/N lay propped up in the bed, sweat clinging to her skin, her breaths shallow and strained. The dim light from a single lamp flickered weakly against the haze of smoke that filtered in through the slats in the windows. She had always known the risks of childbirth in Zaun—knew that the medical care was nothing compared to Piltover's polished facilities—but nothing could prepare her for the panic that surged through her now. The pain, the fear, and the overwhelming sense of helplessness that pressed in on her from all sides made her chest tighten.

Her hand gripped the sheets beneath her, fingers trembling as another contraction hit. She let out a sharp breath, trying to steady herself, but it was no use. The pain was unbearable, coming in waves that ripped through her body with an intensity she hadn’t anticipated.

Beside her, Silco stood, his cold and calculating demeanor stripped away, leaving only a man who was, for the first time in his life, genuinely frightened. His eyes locked on her face, his hand moving to brush her damp hair away from her forehead. His gloved fingers, usually so steady and controlled, were trembling slightly, betraying his inner turmoil.

"Y/N," Silco murmured, his voice hoarse and low. "Look at me."

Y/N’s vision was blurry, her mind clouded by the pain, but she managed to meet his eyes. The intensity of his gaze steadied her, grounding her in the chaos.

"Stay with me, darling," he continued, his voice firm, but underneath the commanding tone, there was a softness that she rarely heard from him. "You’re stronger than this. You can do this."

"I’m... so scared," she whispered, her voice weak and vulnerable in a way Silco had never heard before. "What if something happens to the baby? To me?"

His heart clenched at her words, and though he longed to tell her that everything would be fine, he knew better than to offer empty promises. But his presence was all she had in this moment, and if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her or their child. He would tear down the world before he let that happen.

The door to the room creaked open, and the doctor from Piltover, a middle-aged woman with stern features and sharp eyes, entered. She was dressed in a sterile white coat, and her hands moved with precision as she approached the bed. Silco barely spared her a glance, his gaze fixed on Y/N as her body trembled beneath the waves of pain.

The doctor moved to assess the situation, but Silco’s attention remained unwavering. His eyes flickered to the doctor once more, but there was a coldness there that sent a shiver down her spine.

"You better do your job, doctor," Silco’s voice was quiet, dangerous, like a serpent coiled and ready to strike. "If anything happens to her, or to my child, I will make sure you regret it."

The doctor didn’t flinch, but Silco’s words were a reminder of the gravity of the situation. He was a man who wielded power not just with wealth and influence, but with fear—and this woman had to know that failure was not an option.

Y/N gasped as another contraction hit, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. Silco’s focus snapped back to her, his gloved hand finding hers and holding it tightly.

"Just breathe," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Breathe for me, Y/N."

The doctor examined Y/N carefully, making quick, efficient movements. Her brow furrowed as she murmured something about the baby being in a difficult position. The words made Y/N's heart race faster, panic gripping her chest.

“No,” Y/N gasped, her voice tight with fear. “Please, I can’t—”

“Y/N,” Silco interjected, his voice sharp but steady. “Focus on me. Focus on my voice. You’re going to be fine.”

But the doctor’s actions were swift and clinical, each movement calculated. Y/N squeezed Silco’s hand harder, the pain becoming unbearable as another wave of contraction hit her. Her breath was coming in short bursts, her chest heaving with the effort to stay calm. But with every moment that passed, she could feel the weight of the situation pressing down harder and harder.

"Is everything okay?" Silco’s voice was a low growl, his eyes flicking between the doctor and Y/N, demanding answers.

The doctor didn’t respond immediately, her eyes focused entirely on Y/N’s condition. She instructed a nurse to adjust the positioning of Y/N’s legs, her voice firm and professional. But Silco’s presence in the room was impossible to ignore, and the tension radiated from him like an aura. His hand clenched around Y/N’s, his breath coming faster now.

"Doctor," Silco growled, his patience thinning. "I said, is everything okay?"

The doctor looked up at him, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. "The baby is in a difficult position," she said, her voice calm but strained. "We need to turn her, but it’s risky."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her mind spinning with terror. “What do you mean, risky? What happens if—”

"Shh," Silco whispered to her, his fingers brushing over her forehead, trying to soothe her. “We’ll be fine. You’ve been through worse. You can do this.”

The doctor moved quickly, making the necessary adjustments. Silco stood by Y/N’s side, his hand still in hers, his presence grounding her in a sea of fear. He didn’t let go, his gaze locked onto hers, trying to offer any comfort he could.

Another hour passed in agonizing silence, the doctor working swiftly to help Y/N through each wave of pain. Silco never left her side, his words soft and reassuring, though beneath the calm surface of his voice, the fear was palpable.

=

Finally, the moment came. With a final, desperate scream, Y/N gave birth to their baby girl. The room was filled with the sound of her first cries—loud, sharp, and full of life. Silco’s heart skipped a beat as he looked down at their daughter, a tiny, fragile thing, her small fists clenched in the air as she wailed in protest of the world she had just entered.

"She’s beautiful," Silco murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he looked at Y/N.

But just as he turned to give Y/N the smile of relief she deserved, a terrible realization struck him.

Her eyes were closed. Her chest wasn’t moving. The room seemed to go deathly silent as Silco’s eyes locked on her pale, lifeless face.

“No...” he whispered, his voice breaking.

The doctor’s face turned pale as well, her hands moving quickly to assess the situation. “She’s in shock,” the doctor said, her tone suddenly frantic. “We need to stabilize her. Get her breathing again, now.”

Y/N’s body was limp in Silco’s arms, her skin cold and lifeless. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All he could do was hold her, his arms trembling as he pulled her closer.

“Y/N…darling?” Silco’s voice cracked, barely audible as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. His heart pounded in his chest, and every second felt like an eternity. “Please. Don’t do this. Please.”

His voice was desperate now, raw with fear as he rocked her gently in his arms. His hand moved to her chest, feeling for any sign of life, but it was like the world had come to a halt.

And then, like a flicker of hope in the darkness, a faint breath shuddered through Y/N’s body. Her chest rose, just barely, and Silco’s eyes locked on hers as she gasped for air.

A sob broke from him, relief flooding his veins as Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, though they were weak and unfocused.

“I’m here, Y/N,” he whispered hoarsely, tears threatening to spill. “I’m not letting you go.”

She reached up weakly, her hand brushing against his cheek, and Silco’s heart shattered at the sight.

"I’m here, Silco," she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “I’m not leaving you.”

As he looked down at their daughter—her tiny hands grasping at the air, her cries slowly turning into soft whimpers—Silco knew this moment, this fragile, imperfect moment, would define him forever. He would protect them both with every ounce of his being, and nothing in this world would ever tear them apart.

“Welcome to the world, little one,” Silco whispered, his voice full of awe and love. His fingers gently traced Y/N’s face as he held her close, his heart finally steady, for now. "Together, we will make this world our own."

JINX/POWDER (PLATONIC)

It was an unusually warm afternoon in Piltover when Y/N sat by the window, her hand gently resting on her swollen belly, feeling the subtle movements of the child growing inside her. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. She smiled faintly, a small flicker of excitement still there, despite everything that had happened.

She had never planned to be in this situation. Pregnancy was supposed to be a shared experience, full of joy, a journey that a couple would embark on together. But instead, she was navigating it alone. The moment she told the father of the child, he vanished. Not a word, not even a glance back. Y/N had been left to face the whirlwind of emotions and responsibility all on her own.

The first few months had been rough. She was overwhelmed by the constant rush of thoughts about how she was going to handle it all, but then Jinx came into the picture. It was unexpected, but somehow, it felt right. Jinx had always been chaotic, unpredictable, but there was a kindness buried deep beneath her wild exterior. She showed up at Y/N’s door one day, a basket full of mismatched baby clothes and snacks in hand, grinning like she’d won some great prize.

“Surprise!” Jinx exclaimed, bouncing on her heels. “I’m here to help with your little monster.”

And help she did. Jinx became an unspoken part of Y/N’s life. She never hesitated, always the first to check on Y/N, bringing over food, running errands, and even talking to the baby as though they were already best friends. The moments they shared together were the bright spots in what could have been an incredibly lonely time.

But despite Jinx’s enthusiasm, Y/N knew the truth. She wasn’t sure if she would have survived the emotional toll of her situation without Jinx’s chaotic, but much-needed support.

As the months went by, Y/N’s belly grew, and so did her bond with Jinx. The little one, who they had started calling “Buddy” for lack of a better name, was about to enter the world. The excitement in the air was palpable.

But the birth... that’s when things took a turn.

=

The pain hit suddenly, and Jinx was at Y/N’s side in an instant, her usual wildness replaced with determination. She didn’t know how to handle a birth, but she didn’t let that stop her. She had always been resourceful.

Y/N gripped her hand tightly, her face contorted in pain. The room was buzzing with tension, the medical staff moving quickly around her, and yet Jinx was a rock. Her usual high-pitched voice was quiet, soothing, as she whispered words of encouragement.

“You’ve got this, Y/N. Come on, just one more push. I’m right here. Just like we said... You can do this.”

Y/N nodded, trying to stay calm despite the growing panic inside. Something didn’t feel right. Her vision blurred, and her body felt heavy, as though she was being pulled into the deep end of a storm she couldn’t control.

The complications started to escalate quickly. Y/N’s heart began to race erratically, and her breathing became shallow. The doctor’s faces shifted, from calm to concerned, then quickly to urgent. In that moment, Y/N wasn’t sure if she would make it through. The thought of her unborn child, of everything that had happened, flooded her mind.

And then, there was Jinx. Jinx who had seen so much destruction in her life, but still, in this moment, she was fighting to keep her calm for Y/N. She was holding Y/N’s hand, whispering to her, telling her she wasn’t alone.

“Hey... Y/N,” Jinx said, her voice shaky but determined. “Don’t go anywhere. You’ve got a little one to take care of, right? Buddy’s gonna need you. I’ll be here... Just hang on. You’re not gonna leave me. Okay?”

Y/N barely had the strength to nod, but Jinx’s words, despite the chaos around them, were a lifeline. She squeezed her hand once, as though telling Jinx she was going to fight to stay.

The seconds felt like hours, and the minutes stretched on, but slowly, the tension in the room started to ease. Y/N’s heart rate stabilized, the doctors’ movements slowed, and Jinx let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t believe it. Y/N was still there, still holding on, still fighting. The baby was coming. Buddy was coming.

But just as the baby was finally born, Y/N’s heart took another turn. The doctors’ voices became more frantic. Y/N’s body went limp, and the room seemed to spin. She was losing blood fast, and the doctors couldn’t stop it. One of the nurses began shouting for a stretcher.

“Get her stabilized! Now!”

Y/N was carefully wheeled away, leaving Jinx standing at the edge of the room, her mind spiraling into chaos. She hadn’t even realized she was trembling until she found herself staring down at the small bundle in her arms—Buddy. The tiny, squirming baby, who was crying softly, oblivious to the storm that was still raging in the room.

Jinx stared at Buddy, her hands trembling. Her lip quivered as she held the baby closer. Her mind was in turmoil, the weight of the situation crashing down on her.

“Why?!” Jinx suddenly snapped, her voice laced with desperation. “Why is this happening?! Why is it always the babies—why do they make everything worse?!”

Her voice cracked, the harshness of her words cutting through the stillness in the room. She stared down at the baby, her breath shaky and uneven. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Y/N... she’s... she can’t—she can’t be gone, not like this…”

Buddy’s cries grew louder, more frantic in the tense air, and Jinx’s heart twisted painfully. She trembled, feeling smaller with each passing second. Her grip on Buddy tightened, and the frantic thoughts that swirled in her mind spilled out in a torrent of guilt and anger.

“If you were never born... if none of this had ever happened... Y/N would be fine! She wouldn’t be lying there, fighting for her life because of me. Because of you…” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she choked back a sob, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay.

Buddy’s cries only grew more intense, a sharp contrast to Jinx’s frenzied breathing. The weight of her words hit her like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, she felt a sickening emptiness, like she was drowning in the guilt that had become too heavy to bear. She squeezed her eyes shut, as though trying to block out the overwhelming reality of the situation.

Jinx’s arms trembled as she held Buddy close, but her harsh words soon faltered. She felt the soft warmth of the tiny body in her arms and the tender, unrelenting pull of something deep inside her—a connection, fragile yet fierce.

Her hands, shaking, slowly calmed, and she held the baby against her chest, her voice breaking.

“I didn’t mean it... I’m so sorry, little one... I didn’t mean it. You didn’t ask for this... None of this is your fault.” Her voice was barely a whisper now, barely audible over the baby’s cries.

Jinx took a shuddering breath, her body wracked with sobs as she rocked Buddy gently, murmuring apologies. “I don’t know what to do... I don’t know what to do without her...”

As the baby’s cries softened into soft whimpers, Jinx pressed her cheek against Buddy’s head, feeling the weight of her own fear and guilt melt away bit by bit. Slowly, almost instinctively, she whispered promises.

“I’ll take care of you, little one. Just like I’ll take care of Y/N. I won’t leave you. I won’t leave either of you.”

The words felt like a lifeline, one Jinx was grasping with every ounce of her being. She closed her eyes, clinging to the fragile life in her arms and the hope that somehow, she would find a way to hold on to both Y/N and Buddy, no matter what it took.

=

Hours passed in a blur of soft cries, gentle rocking, and quiet murmurs as Jinx held Buddy close. The tiny baby had eventually calmed, his whimpers softening into quiet breaths as he nestled against Jinx’s chest. Her mind was still a storm, turbulent and chaotic, but the feel of the warm, fragile little body in her arms brought a small sense of grounding amidst it all.

She hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep herself until she was jolted awake by the soft creak of the door opening. A nurse stood there, her gaze gentle but firm, catching Jinx's attention. Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

“Ms… If you’re ready, we have a room prepared for you to see Y/N.”

Jinx’s heart stopped for a moment. Y/N... alive?

Her breath caught in her throat, and her wide, shocked eyes flickered down to the baby in her arms. Buddy had fallen asleep too, his tiny hand curled in a loose fist against her chest. Slowly, cautiously, Jinx stood up, her legs stiff from the hours of sitting in the same spot. She held Buddy against her, and the nurse gently guided her down the hall, leading her to a quieter, dimly lit room.

When they entered, the first thing Jinx noticed was the steady beeping of a monitor and the soft rise and fall of Y/N’s chest. She was asleep, pale but alive, the deep lines of exhaustion and pain softened by the gentle relief of rest.

Jinx’s breath hitched in her throat, a fresh wave of emotion crashing through her. She didn’t even realize her legs were moving until she was beside the bed, her gaze fixed on Y/N’s sleeping form.

She carefully sat down beside Y/N, setting Buddy gently between them. The baby shifted in his sleep but didn’t wake, his tiny fingers twitching against the blanket. Jinx’s fingers lightly brushed through Y/N’s hair, a tender touch as she took in the reality of what had happened. Her mind was still reeling, her heart still raw with guilt, but seeing Y/N here, still breathing, still alive, it was almost too much to handle.

A sob bubbled up in Jinx’s chest, but she forced it back, not wanting to disturb the calm around them. She pulled the blanket closer to Y/N, making sure Buddy was tucked safely in between them.

“I... I thought I lost you,” Jinx whispered, her voice barely audible, her throat tight with emotion. She didn’t know if Y/N could hear her, but the words were out, and they felt like a confession she couldn’t keep in any longer.

Jinx leaned forward slowly, her head resting lightly against Y/N’s arm, her eyes closing in exhaustion. “You’re not gonna leave me, right? You promised, remember?” She whispered the words like a prayer, the echo of their shared promises still vivid in her mind.

She closed her eyes, feeling the soft weight of Buddy’s tiny body next to her and the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Jinx allowed herself to breathe. The world was still heavy, and the future uncertain, but for now, the three of them were together.

Jinx curled into Y/N’s side, her arm draping protectively around the baby, her tears quiet and unspoken as she drifted into a light sleep, knowing that no matter what happened, she would stay with both of them, keeping her promises.

[wchswift]

hii hii there!! OMG congratulations for your 125 followers! that's a great achievement so proud of youuu!! you deserve it sm <3

had an idea hihi 🌺 + touch it by ariana grande. would it be okay if i ask for a lot of slow burn before giving in to each other? but it's okay if you can't write them!

and i would love to see worst! wolvie and fem! reader for this one :3 thank you!

─── touch it.

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: logan pretends to not even notice you outside of missions so you push him until he stops holding back. ─ inspired by touch it, ariana grande.

note! hello hello zayn thank youu <3 and tysm for the request love, I loved your request so much I really hope it does justice to what you asked for. I tried to keep as much slow burn as I could lol. this is part of my 125 followers celebration! Join the celebration too!

ℒogan masterlist !

mdni 𖤐 18+

The first time she met Logan, he barely spared her a glance. Wade had brought him along on a mission, dropping some half-assed introduction that didn’t matter because Logan didn’t do introductions. He was gruff, closed off, and clearly not interested in making friends.

Which only made her more interested in him.

She wasn’t stupid. She’d seen men like him before—hard, angry, wearing their pain like armor. But Logan was different. His silence wasn’t just brooding; it was defensive. The way he kept his distance wasn’t arrogance; it was self-preservation. And that only made her want to crack him open more.

It didn’t help that he was devastatingly attractive. Rugged in a way that shouldn’t be so alluring, all sharp edges and raw masculinity. The rough stubble, the wild hair, the way his muscles tensed beneath his worn t-shirt—he was built like something out of a fever dream, something dangerous and untouchable. And yet, all she wanted was to touch.

They worked well together, even if he frustrated the hell out of her. Despite the chaos that followed Wade like a curse, she and Logan found an easy rhythm, and somehow, she’d ended up watching his back more times than she could count. He was fast, efficient, brutal. She was clever, quick on her feet, and stubborn as hell. More often than not, they ended up fighting back-to-back, instincts perfectly in sync.

But outside of missions? He was a ghost.

She’d catch him watching her sometimes, like he was trying to figure her out, but the second she met his gaze, he’d look away. If she got too close, he’d make some gruff excuse and disappear.

It drove her insane.

Because she knew—knew—there was something there. Some unspoken thing that hung between them, thick and heavy, just waiting to be acknowledged. But Logan wouldn’t let it happen. Wouldn’t let them happen.

And, God help her, she’d fallen for him anyway.

So she waited.

She teased him in the field, pushing his buttons just to see the way his jaw clenched. She made sure to sit next to him whenever they went out for drinks, reveling in the way he tensed every time her arm brushed against his. She learned how to get under his skin, how to make him react.

One night, she wore a tight tank top that hugged her curves, the hem riding up just enough to show a sliver of her stomach when she moved. Very short shorts that exposed long stretches of skin. And the way Logan looked at her when she walked into the bar? Worth it.

He was staring before he even realized it, his knuckles whitening around his glass. She smirked, sliding onto the barstool next to him, ordering a drink with a casual ease that only made him more rigid.

“Something wrong?” she asked, all innocence, fingers playing along the rim of her glass.

Logan didn’t answer at first. Just exhaled sharply through his nose, taking a slow sip of his whiskey before muttering, “Nothin’.”

But when the bartender leaned in just a little too close, flashing a flirty smile as he handed her another drink, Logan shifted in his seat, his grip tightening on the glass. She caught the tick in his jaw, the way his shoulders squared like he was fighting the urge to say something.

So she pushed, just a little. Leaning in, close enough that her thigh brushed against his, warm and deliberate. “You sure?” She said, holding her breath, waiting.

Logan’s eyes flicked to hers, dark and heated. His breath was slow, controlled, but there was an edge to it. Like he was holding something back.

Then Wade stumbled in, ruining everything.

But she never pushed too far.

Not until tonight.

The apartment smells like cigarette smoke, whiskey, and something inherently Logan. It’s not unpleasant—just rough around the edges, lived-in, much like the man himself. The dim lighting casts long shadows across the walls, making the space feel smaller, more intimate. And maybe that’s why her heart is pounding in her chest.

She wasn’t supposed to be alone with him tonight.

Deadpool had invited her over for something—she honestly couldn’t remember what now—but, as always, he had his own plans, leaving her alone in the apartment with Logan.

Just the two of them.

“You gonna stand in the doorway all night?” Logan grumbles from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.

She huffs, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “Didn’t realize I was interrupting your brooding session.”

He doesn’t smirk, doesn’t fire back like he usually does. Just watches her with that sharp, unreadable gaze, his knuckles tightening slightly around the bottle.

It’s always like this with them. Tension so thick it could choke her, words unsaid hanging in the air between them. She’s tried to ignore it, to push it down and pretend like she doesn’t lie awake at night thinking about him, like her chest doesn’t ache every time he pulls away just when she gets too close.

But tonight? She’s done pretending.

“Why do you do it?” The words slip out before she can stop them.

Logan’s brow furrows. “Do what?”

“This.” She gestures between them. “You pull me in, then push me away like it never happened.”

Logan stiffens, jaw clenching. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

She lets out a breathy, humorless laugh. “Bullshit.”

His eyes snap to hers, something dark flashing in them. He looks like he wants to argue, to shove the conversation under the rug like he always does, but she steps forward before he can.

“Logan, I see it. Every damn time. The way you look at me, the way you—” She swallows hard, forcing herself to keep going. “You want this just as much as I do. So why won’t you just let yourself have it?”

The silence stretches between them, heavy and suffocating. He looks torn, like he’s caught between running and finally letting himself stay.

Then, his shoulders drop. A long, weary sigh leaves his lips, and for the first time, Logan lets her see him. The man beneath all the rough edges, the one who isn’t untouchable, who isn’t immune to her.

His fingers twitch at his sides like he wants to reach for her but doesn’t. So she does it instead.

Softly, she brushes her fingers against his wrist. He doesn’t pull away.

Her voice is barely above a whisper when she speaks. “You don’t have to say anything. Just... let me in.”

Logan swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His hand hesitates, then lifts, rough fingers ghosting over her arm before settling on her waist. It’s not a kiss, not some grand confession, but it’s something. Something that says he’s tired of fighting this, of fighting her.

“You sure you know what you’re askin’ for, darlin’?” His voice is low, gravelly, filled with something she can’t quite place. “Because I don’t know if I can let you go if we start this.”

She smiles, small and sure. “Yeah. I do.”

That’s when he finally moves.

It’s not rushed or desperate. Instead, Logan pulls her in slowly, his lips brushing hers—tentative, questioning. When she doesn’t pull back, he deepens it—slow, wet, unhurried. A kiss that tastes like whiskey and restraint finally breaking. His hands tighten on her waist, tugging her closer, and she melts into him, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him in like she’s been waiting for this forever.

And maybe she has.

His breath is warm against her lips when they part, his forehead resting against hers. His grip firm, as if grounding himself in the moment, in her.

“You got no idea what you’re doin’ to me,” he mutters, voice rough.

She smiles against his lips. “Then maybe you should show me.”

Logan growls low in his throat, and the next thing she knows, his hands are on her thighs, lifting her effortlessly. She gasps, gripping his shoulders as he carries her toward his room, the heat between them finally, finally breaking loose.

And this time, Logan doesn’t hold back.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

tags: @cruel-as-sin @mcrdvcks @logaenhowlett (tagging some logan mutuals i really like <3 sry, if you want to be added or removed let me know <3)

[whisper-ocean]

Fuck it, Let’s ruin the friendship

Authors note: this is the first fan fiction I have ever written so I apologise if it’s not very good, I’m hoping that the more I write the better I’ll get. Well here goes nothing.

Warnings: smut, over 18s only, minors DNI.

You and David have been friends for years, you both met in college and clicked instantly forming an unbreakable bond, you both connected through mutual interests, you used to go to cons together he would cosplay as the Joker and you as Harley Quinn. There were always rumours going around of you two dating but you both brushed them off never even thinking of each other like that. As the years went by your friendship grew stronger you were both inseparable, his family loved you and you would often go with him back to Alabama during the holidays. You never saw him as more than a friend that was until recently.

It was a typical Saturday night for you guys take out a bottle of wine and whatever board game you both decide to play. David was taking a well earned break from making multiple appearances at various cons where he would do meet and greets and dress up as Art the clown for photo opps.

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you caught each other up with what you guys did that week. After a while you both settled into a comfortable silence which he broke when he asked you “hey do you remember when everyone thought we were dating” “yeah, oh my god that was hilarious” you reply “how come”, “no reason just reminiscing I guess” you sensed there was more to what he was trying to say but he turned away from you, “maybe we should call it a night” he said yawning “yeah good idea but there’s no way I’m letting you drive back considering you’ve got half a bottle of wine in you, you can sleep in the spare room” “thanks Ro” he replies.

You clean up and both head upstairs you start to sense a tension between you that you’ve never noticed before. He stops and looks at you “how come we never talked about being more than friends before”, you swallow not knowing how to answer. There was always a part of you that wondered what if but you were always too scared of ruining the friendship you shared. He continues to look at you, a look you’ve never noticed before. He takes a step towards you closing the gap, the only sound there is of you both breathing looking at each other.

“Dave, if we cross this line there’s no going back” he looks at you “good”.

He pushes you up against the wall your lips crashing together with desperation, all your thoughts turn directly to him, how badly you want him and how long you’ve been longing for this to happen. He pulls away suddenly looking into you eyes his breath heavy, “are you sure about this, is this what you want” he whispers, you look at him and nod “yes, please I need you” he smirks and attaches his lips to your neck, he nips lightly and a small yet involuntary moan escapes from your lips, “please baby I need you” in that moment David picks you up and you wrap your legs around him, you can feel his arousal pressing into you as he carries you over to the bed, David lays you down stands up and looks you over, “Jesus Rose you have no idea how beautiful you are”. You can’t help but blush and turn your head, he crawls on top of you he burries his face into your neck licking, nipping and sucking the sensitive area, he started trailing kisses down in between the valley of your breasts, your breathing starts to get heavier and you can feel your own arousal soaking through your underwear “please stop teasing me, I fucking need you” and with that it’s like a switch flipped and all of a sudden David quickly yanks off your pants taking your panties with them and before you know it his mouth is right there on your most sensitive bud licking and sucking, you start moaning his name over and over, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to release when all of a sudden he inserts his fingers expertly hitting your g spot and that’s enough you bring you over the edge, you throw your head back and moan his name repeatedly. David removes himself from you and as he undresses himself you can’t help but admire him, your eyes trail down and lock onto his member, you knew he was big but his size still took you by surprise, he notices you looking “you absolutely sure babe, because if you’ve changed your mind” he barely gets to finish his sentence before you jump up and attack his lips and that’s all the confirmation he needed, you switch positions so that you’re on top of him, you reach down and line him up with your entrance and as you move down onto him barely able to take all of him in, you see his eyes roll to the back of his head, you stay like this for a minute before you start moving up and down the pleasure indescribable, he grips your waist and takes a nipple into his mouth, you throw you head back moaning as his name rolls off your tongue “oh my god baby just like that, please don’t fucking stop” “Rose baby I’m so fucking close” he says between breaths you continue your pace your breaths getting heavier, moans getting louder, David starts playing with your clit as he moans into your neck when all of a sudden you feel as the edge of your release threatens to come crashing down, your legs start to shake as he pushes you fully over the edge to your orgasm, your words incoherent as you struggle to put a sentence together then suddenly he ruts upwards spilling into you as his own orgasm washes over him.

You both lay there in bed with your head resting on his chest as he gently runs his fingers up and down your arm, “Rose” he starts you interrupt him with a kiss “no regrets, I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t hide it anymore, please don’t let this be a one time thing where you disappear after you’ve got what you wanted, I can’t bear the thought of not having you in my life” you can feel the tears pooling in your eyes threatening to spill over. David takes your face in his hands and looks you in the eyes “I’ve loved you for years but I never thought for a second that you would want me, I mean I’m not exactly the type you normally go for am I” he chuckles slightly but you can hear the hurt in his voice that he’s so desperately trying to hide. You look at him as you feel your heart break for him “hey don’t say that, I should have told you sooner but I was scared that you didn’t see me like that” “trust me babe I do, I do see you, you are everything I have ever wanted please give me the chance to show you that”.

You gently press your lips against his, you can feel him smile as you both mumble I love you’s to each other.

@clowncafeb

@daveythorntonslocker

I hope you guys like this

[crkfragmentedsouljams]

SINCE NOW EP8 OF BEAST YEAST HAS FINALLY RELEASED..(as of writing this) im gonna finally talk abt my crk au ive been thinking of for months-

| Fragmented Souljams AU! — Introduction/Masterpost ig-

(FSAU for short)

This crk au is basically: What if the ancients loses to the beast and is now under their control? :)

| General Info:

Blog is owned by @cheesymellow (MINOR!) :D.

This is still a massive WIP and i dont have that much planned rn for this. But feel free to ask questions in my asksbox or in the comments!-

Fanart & Fanfiction are COMPLETELY OKAY!! Aslong as its sfw (any fanart/fanfic made by another person is not considered canon)

If you want you can even ask stuff to the cast! Ex: “Empty Vanilla how is it like in the spire?”, or “Soulless cacao, Do you like peach baos?”. (Its optional to call the ancients by their AU name btw, you can still call them Pure Vanilla, Dark cacao, & Golden cheese :D)

If you have any non-au related questions, Just ask in my main blog @cheesymellow

Eyy you interested? If you are, All character info & stories r DOWN BELOW!!

| The Lineup of characters! (DC is incomplete 💔)

—Designs might change in the future!

Lets start off with..

| Pure Vanilla/Empty Vanilla

Empty vanilla is now a shell of his former self. His souljam exploding unknowingly whilst falling down the tower (EP7). Injuring him in the chest and half of his face, even severely damaging his memories… Now with those damaged memories. He contemplates if he is “Pure Vanilla” or “Truthless Recluse”. Residing in shadow milk’s domain to find answers. (At least, thats what he’s been told.)

As for Gingerbrave, Strawberry, And Wizard cookie. They all are forced to reside in the spire. Reluctantly joining shadow milk TEMPORARILY obeying orders as they try to escape and recover Empty Vanilla’s memories. (cant think of a color palette)

– Extra Info!:

Empty Vanilla was given his name by none other than Black Sapphire! He found it fitting considering he doesn’t know what he is.

His personality is a mix of Pure Vanilla & Truthless Recluse. Kind and forgiving but sometimes rude and pissed (Mostly to Shadow Milk ☺️)

80% of the time you’ll find him sleeping. The 20% is him doing orders/chores

Also Re-learning both Light magic & Dark Moon magic. That wont go wrong right?

He can see WAYY better now and doesn’t need his staff! He only uses it to do magic. (which is barely)

| Golden Cheese/Lusterless Cheese

Burning Spice had TOOO much fun fighting with Golden Cheese that he shattered her souljam in the process. But even after doing that. He still continued to fight her until she somehow managed to escape. Crumbling and bleeding jam as she was holding a piece of her souljam. That had enough power to heal her but… She couldn’t reclaim it. For she has lost to Burning Spice. After that she manages to find Smoked Cheese and barely escape together… They’re now both lost in the desert trying to hide from the Spice Swarm.

Smoked Cheese is in worse condition. His arm almost falling off yet surprisingly still very strong. He still has the soulcheeses with him and vows to protect it with his life despite his dying state.

– Extra Info!:

Lusterless Cheese was a nickname given to her by the Spice Swarm after she lost to Burning Spice. She isnt really that shiny and golden now is she?. Only Smoked Cheese calls her Golden Cheese. (Also just a name so i can differentiate her from canon and this au)

Constantly gets reminded of that fight and is slowly losing hope

She took extra clothes from a nearby village due to hers being heavily damaged & dirty. And has wrapped bandages over all her scratches.

Her wings are slowly regrowing thanks to the bit essence of her souljam!

Speaking of souljam, Burning Spice is delighted by this change. Trying to find out what the shattered souljam can do.

| Dark Cacao/Soulless Cacao (CANT DECIDE ON A DESIGN JS GIMME A DAY OR TWO IT WILL BE HERE SOON-)

Kneeling down infront of Mystic Flour as he accepts his fate and sees his souljam getting taken.. Mystic Flour attempts to turn him into flour for she feels pity for him. But alas.. No matter how hard she tried, He wouldnt disolve completely. Even after giving up. Until she realized his souljam was shaking uncontrollably, Then—Poof! Shatters unknowingly and simply loses its shine. She is lead to believe this is fate telling her that Dark Cacao could be of good use to her. So she recruits him to become his servant/devoted follower. He accepts willing to find a purpose.

As for his warriors. They are lost in beast yeast, Currently having made their own campsite while trying to find their king.

– Extra Info!:

Soulless Cacao was a name given by Cloud Hatae (Yes this 💩 is alive). Just a random nickname on spot since he has changed.

He dosent use his sword anymore. Doesn’t commit violence at all

As days go by, His memories fade away bit by bit.

He loves watering the plants of the ivory pagoda. And has made good friends with the guards and even Peach Blossom.

Thats all for now- Ill add more info soon so stay tuned

[shinwonderful]

Freedom of Choice

prologue to Heavy is the Heart (That Wears the Crown) [masterlist coming soon]

part of you hoped you'd be able to avoid this aspect of royalty, but it was inevitable. they would never allow the sole heir to the kingdom of evermoor to remain unmarried. all you can hope for is that one of the suitors you meet will be the true love you've always dreamt of.

⁺✦ seventeen x reader (cyoa style!) ⁺✦ word count: 3.3k ⁺✦ genre: historical, kind of a mix of everything lol ⁺✦ warnings: shitty parents, forced marriage, mention of being pressured into intimacy, i promise i'm not a royalist i just think historical stories of nobility are v romantic

જ⁀➴┊ [🐈] happy valentine's day!! this series has been in the works since november, and i'm so excited to finally post the prologue! this series has come to be very close to my heart, and i'm really excited to share it with you guys!

special thanks to @lovewithoutresin my beautiful bestie for editing and writing the dialogue for the reader's Handmaiden! I love that this series has a piece of you in it too MWAH!!

the prologue and a certain upcoming chapter are dedicated to the lovely @ylangelegy for inspiring me to pick up writing (on tumblr) again after nearly a decade (christ alive i'm old. 💀). if they hadn't been so supportive and expressed interest in this story, i'd likely not have written it. happy valentine's day ilysbbbb

dividers by saradika!

each chapter of this series will have a (relatively lol) period-accurate theme and costume.

this chapter's theme is Fauré: Après un Rêve (ca. 1870).

"A song about devotion and passion. The dreamer yearns for the return of her dreams, in which she met her love: ‘In sleep made sweet by a vision of you’."

the costume for this chapter is this gorgeous afternoon dress (ca. 1835) from the met museum archives.

“All we ask is that you keep an open mind.”

The rattle of the carriage wheels against the meticulously hand-paved road beneath your fancifully cushioned seat was, perhaps, the only thing keeping you grounded at the moment. You could do little but curse them internally, knowing putting up a fight was… tragically futile.

“How do you mean, Mother?”

You already knew the answer to this question, but it bought you a bit of time to school your reaction, to use your decades of lessons in decorum to keep your actual thoughts and feelings from clawing themselves out of your mouth.

After all, for God’s sake, how could they expect you to choose a husband on this supposed ‘diplomatic tour’?

You’d, of course, rolled your eyes when your Handmaiden had told you of their plans (though a much more tumultuous emotion stirred behind your sardonic response). Your parents hadn’t even afforded you the courtesy of a conversation before making arrangements for the tour. Instead, the news was broken only after your Handmaiden heard the rumors in whispers that echoed through the long, hollow halls of your castle. (Pro Tip: Having a best friend on your staff never stops being helpful.) You knew what this was, and it wasn’t simply diplomatic. At least, not in the usual sense.

You knew what this was– everyone did. You were of the age where courtiers began to whisper about your lack of husband, gossiping about why the Crown Heir of Evermoor had yet to even begin the courting process. Why so many requests for meetings had gone politely rejected.

The truth was much less salacious than popular theory– as is usually the case. Quite simply, you’ve just yet to meet an eligible bachelor that doesn’t make you physically recoil at the prospect of being wed to them. Between the Dukes whose eyes on your female staff were… less than respectful and Counts who couldn’t make it longer than thirty seconds without saying something to stroke their own egos, you’d rather shovel the stables by hand than meet with any prospects for the time being.

There had been a close call once, just a few months back, where you’d met with a neighboring King who was charming enough at first. That is, of course, until the bastard had tried to pressure you into necking with him after dinner one night. You sent him packing on the spot. And your parents, the Queen and King, were irate. Apparently, not offending the royal family was more important than your honor.

Which, tragically, prompted them to force your hand into embarking on what would be your ‘grand tour’ throughout the nearby kingdoms. Officially, it was a tour to introduce you as the Crown Royal to your (pre-established and potential alike) ally’s own Royal Families. To establish a line of communication and get to know each other sooner rather than later. But none were gullible enough to miss the writing on the wall. You were unmarried, and most of the kingdoms you’d be visiting had unmarried royal sons of their own to offer. After all, for a royal as high-ranking as yourself, it’s most appropriate for you to marry other ‘high-value’ royalty. Those who would be Counts in their own right someday, some even Kings. Any children born would rule over both domains, doubling your families’ power and influence in the realm. (And that was all anything was ever about. Cue eye roll.)

Perhaps you’d have fought harder if you thought there was the slimmest chance of getting your way, but… why kid yourself? This was an inevitable. Since you were young, you’d known your fate would be that of most born of noble blood. To be used as a bargaining chip, a pawn in someone else’s game– one neither of you had elected to play.

Sure, there had been a time many years ago where you’d find yourself in despair over this. Growing up, your favorite stories were the ones told of love triumphing over all. You’d go to your balcony in the dead of night, wishing to any power that could hear you to be one of the lucky ones. For you to have the chance at a marriage of love. A husband you chose not because of the family crest he bore, but for the tender affection he showed you. The way he lit up your world, coloring your bluest nights into the tender pinks of the sunrise. Someone who was well and truly yours, divorced from the way nobility are traded like commodities, but how love brings two souls into one, merging until you can’t remember where you end and he begins. A love like poetry. A love worth writing about.

But those days were long behind you. Even the most hopeless of all romantics can’t resist the effects of erosion, the cynical waves of the ocean clawing at the coast until even something so eternal as the Earth itself gives way, becoming part of the ocean it once fought to resist so vehemently. Holding onto that optimism… at some point begins to hurt you more than it helps you. And so you, once as steady as the Earth in your quest for love, you surrendered to cynicism just as steadily, until you, too, found it hard to believe that love in the pure sense even existed at all. 

Of course, those were the times when your Equerry would ask you to accompany him on a trip to the local market. After all, none could read you quite like him. It came with the territory– his job, of course, to be your shadow. To care for you, and to watch over you. And he took his role very seriously. To him, this meant to help you through not just your meetings with the steward, but also to watch for signs that your spirits need lifting (despite this not technically being in his duties). And seeing how your mouth twitched into a frown any time someone mentioned the concept of love the past few months? He didn’t have to be a scholar to read you.

So he pulled you into the castle’s preferred bakery, calling for Mister and Missus Kim and producing a beaming smile when the pair came out from the back to say hello. The couple’s eyes shined every time they looked at one another, and the three of them talked about the castle’s weekly order as you watched from near the door, mindlessly eyeing the pastries on display in the cabinet, trying to ignore the way your chest fluttered just being around something so beautiful. She held a toddler on her hip, and the moment it crossed your mind that she was looking tired from holding the boy, her husband instinctively grabbed him, placing him to lay upon his own chest instead. It was as if they had their own language, something silent but incredibly tangible that tied them together. And it was a sight to behold.

Your heart felt much less heavy on the ride home, your eyebrows quirked in thoughtful wishing instead of the bitter resignation they tended towards. Your Equerry said nothing, his hands smoothing against the hat he’d placed on his lap as he smiled softly. He didn’t need your words to know he’d done well, even if he would love to hear them. But alas, the you of the present day was much too timid to speak what was on your mind. The thoughts were much too soft for someone who was to someday rule over this nation. But maybe, you thought, maybe you were what was too soft. Maybe fate had played a cruel joke in making you the only one who could govern your beloved country once your parents no longer could. Maybe it was all a fool’s errand.

Because you couldn’t help but feel that… perhaps you’ll never be lucky enough to possess a love of your own, but you’re more sure than you’ve ever been that love is one of the finest things humanity has to offer– so real, so tangible that it shone through the dark clouds hanging over your head. And you’d do anything it took to feel its embrace, even for the smallest moment in time.

It was hard to contend with the idea people had in their head about you at times. To them, you were the Crown Heir of Evermoor. Sole Heir at that. Flowers bloomed bright the day you were born, and (according to folklore) it’s impossible for a flower to wilt if it’s been blessed by your presence.

You care deeply for your nation, making certain your Equerry schedules an allotment every few weeks for you to visit the capital’s town square, relishing in the bustle of the city and the chatter of those hard at work, or those working to forget their hard day at work. But when they notice you, they’re quick to forget what they were doing. Instead, they either gawk openly, or rush to have their moment with you. Something they’ll remember for a lifetime; ‘the time the Crown Royal complimented my pelerine’ or ‘the time I made the Crown Royal smile by presenting them with a rose’. 

But at home? You’re just… you.

You’re sprawled out over your plush bed, dressed down to your chemise and pantaloons as your Handmaiden helped you sneak a second dessert to share, shutting the door to your quarters quietly as she, too, leapt to join you in your bed with a mischievous smile (though there was an unspoken tension in the air that neither of you cared to address just yet). Your hair hit your shoulders in what were once carefully-manicured curls that had loosened throughout the day. If it were anyone else, you’d be shamed for the lewdness of this moment, but this was another perk to having your best friend as your Handmaiden. With her, this was perfectly appropriate. Even if it wasn’t technically in the spirit of the rules.

The upcoming months hung over you like a death sentence. Tonight would be one of your last as a single person, one of the last you’d not be betrothed– or worse, married. At the end of the week, you’d be leaving on your tour. Leaving the only home you’d ever known to stay at palace after palace belonging to strangers who intended to sell you on their sons. And if there’s one thing you knew; the only thing more formidable than your citizens competing for your attention is dozens of nobles doing the same. At least your people had some sense of dignity.

Today was one of the last nights you’d be free to kid yourself into believing that, by some miracle, you’d get the fairytale ending you’ve always dreamed of. Because once you left the borders of Evermoor, there would be no returning without the burden of a ring on your finger, its center stone heavy with insurmountable expectations and a destiny you’d never get to seek.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the loud clink of a fork on your Handmaid's plate– a clearly theatrical gesture. 

“So?” She sat her plate aside without looking away from you. When you gave her no indication that you knew what she was about to broach, she continued, her voice casual and innocent. “How long were you planning on moping about for? I just mean to ensure we stay on schedule.” 

Eyes still trained on the plate of Ratafia Cake in front of you, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at one corner of your mouth. You gave her a thoughtful hum. “I was thinking… maybe a couple more decades? Don’t want to overdo it, of course.” You looked to her with a facetious grin.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t buying it. “That sounds about right. I wouldn’t want to waste any more precious time I can’t get back either.” She kept the dry tone, but there was evident concern on her features. Perhaps a bit of frustration as well. 

Your smile faltered, the truth in her words hitting a little too close to the truth for comfort. You resorted to pushing your cake around on the small saucer, the prospect of eating suddenly much less alluring as the truth settled in your stomach like a stone. Your voice came out barely over a whisper; “What else can I do? It's not as if I have any say in the matter. I've pushed this off as long as I can. My parents…” You take an exasperated breath, “They aren’t going to budge this time.”

The pretense was dropped then, and she shifted to get comfortable, tone more serious. “I know. It's not fair the way this is happening. I hope you know I am really sorry about that.” 

“I just… don't think that the way you're thinking about this is really helpful to you.” She looked off, thought for a moment, then turned back to pick the situation apart. “We can't change the situation. So the way I see it, you have a few options here.”

You placed the cake to the side then, shifting to lean against the bedpost. Part of you felt the urge to dig in your heels, to protest, but unfortunately one of your best friend’s qualities happens to be that she’s almost always right about these things. So instead, you bite your tongue, nodding for her to continue.

“Option One; you go on the tour. You grin and bear it with the suitors. And really, you’ll only be with each of them for a short time. So if they’re that terrible, you’ll be out soon enough. Don’t worry about months or years from now– just focus on getting through this part. One step at a time.” She picked up her cake again, taking a shamelessly large bite and swallowing it quickly.

“I hate that you’re being made to choose this. But think of it this way: you do get a choice if you go. You can at least focus on trying to influence things to make your life easiest. And maybe you will end up liking someone, at least enough to try. I mean, the odds are one of them won’t be completely insufferable. And if they all are, I promise to let you mope until the end of time, okay?”

That has you laughing again, turning to look at her fully. “Careful; I may actually take you up on that. I really think I’ve yet to fully realize my true potential in the field of being annoying. And as my Handmaiden, you have special privileges as my guinea pig for just that.” You give her an easy smile, leaning on one side while you pick up your cake once more.

But as you take another bite, you ponder her words carefully. As suspected, she was right once again. Most noblewomen are not as lucky as you’ve been. You made it this far without being betrothed, and even then your parents are still allowing you the choice of who to marry instead of forcing someone upon you. So while the situation is certainly unideal… she’s right to say that you still have some freedom of choice. And while small, it’s best to count your blessings whenever they come, lest it drive you mad.

“You’re right.” You pause, trying to find a way to say what you mean without sounding naive. Or worse, corny. “What I want may be out of question, but I suppose any choice is better than none.” You furrow your brow for a moment, lost in thought. “Perhaps… some of these suitors also mourn this choice. Love may be off the table, but… perhaps we can be friends–” You pause once more, laughing softly. “–who just so happen to be married.”

You’re not sure why it took you so long to reach this conclusion. After all, noble as they may be, these suitors are human just as you are. Each of them have their own thoughts, goals, desires, dreams. And perhaps, like yours, theirs is also stifled by this imposed choice. Perhaps.

“Exactly,” she replied, face brightening a bit at your change in tone. “And… well, who knows?” She shrugged, not going any further into the thought. “At any rate, it won’t necessarily hurt to have a partner in crime.” 

“My, my– are you suggesting that I replace you now?” You tease her.

“Right. So what's Option Two, then?”

“Option Two; we let the kingdom burn, run away in the night and live on the lam. That one has a few kinks to work out.” She played it as straight as she could, but it was obvious from her face that she was trying to be funny. 

Your laughter comes out in a snort, her words catching you by surprise. “You know what? I'm half tempted to take you up on that. But I don't think Mr. Stick-in-the-mud Equerry would go for it. Tragic.”

“Oh, forget him,” she said lightly. “We can do it on our own.” She finished the last bite of her dessert.

You try to ignore the way you immediately feel guilty imagining the expression on your Equerry's face if he knew the details of this conversation. Even tonight, you had to practically beg him to take the night off so you could have this time with your Handmaiden. He's been practically glued to your side since the news of your fate reached him, ever protective of you. He means well, but… a girl needs to breathe sometimes. You can only imagine what he'd do, how he'd feel if you fled. You scrunch up your face apologetically at your Handmaiden, still smiling. “Sorry. Maybe next time.”

She laughs, shaking her head at you softly. “Seriously, though. Just try, okay? There must be some part of this that could work out for good.”

As you, too, finish the last bit of your cake, you nod solemnly in return. “Alright. I'll… try. But only because you asked me to.” You answer with an air of drama. “We should both hope this goes well. After all, he’ll soon be your problem just as much as he’ll be mine. It's your neck on the block too,” You joke.

“Don't I know it,” she replied, and collected the dish back from you. “And God help us both.”

“We just don’t want you to be so… dismissive. Alright, dear? Give them a chance. They just might surprise you. You’ve been so picky, and we won’t tolerate a repeat of last time.”

The words of your Father hit your ears like an arrow, and you’re rearing back to spit a harsh retort when you feel your Equerry place a steadying hand on your shoulder, just out of view of your parents across from you both. Looking at him, he gives you a sympathetic smile that does little to alleviate your anger, but it succeeds in holding you back if only because you hate fighting with your parents in front of him. (It stresses him out having to play the middle-man when he wants to have your back with no question.)

So you take a deep breath, letting your Father’s words linger in the air of the carriage, which suddenly felt hopelessly stuffy.

It wasn’t fifteen minutes later that the carriage slowed to a stop, signaling the end of your journey to meet the first of your suitors. Your heartbeat quickened, and as your attendant opened the door to the carriage, the sun pricked at your eyes.

While you waited as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you noticed an unfamiliar hand reaching into your carriage, offering for you to grab to assist you out. “May I help you, Your Highness?”

And though it felt like diving into frigid waters in the black of night, you took the stranger’s hand.

[hellspawnmotel]

more answering asks! down below 👇

what. why

amazing series, and one that's incredibly important to me. it was something I took a lot of solace in during a rough time

photoshop. I use clip studio now though

not really. I want to but it's a lot to figure out and manage

hell yeah man. I kinda mentally conceded the win to dipcifica years ago though, not in a "this one is more canon" sense like obviously mabifica was never gonna be canon lmao but in the sense of having more staying power. we both fought an honorable battle 🫡

THANK YOOOOUUUUU this made me really happy to read. I worry sometimes that if I remind people of old things I forgot/abandoned they'll get mad at me for dropping it lol. I want to see it in the future too

cuz I got 20k followers and I've cultivated a persona where people feel comfortable asking me questions and are also interested in what I have to say 🤷

sorry I left this one sitting for a while a lot of the time I really dont know how to respond when people say really nice things to me but I'm giving you a big hug with my mind!! I hope youre doing well too, all things considered I'm doing pretty good :)

[moonysentropia]

first i love you · @wolfstarmicrofic · word count: 998

Valentine’s Day had always been a complicated day for Remus. Not because he wasn’t a hopeless romantic — it was the opposite, actually. He wasn’t the type to express his love with words or eccentric gestures, but he always remembered to gift his partner something he knew they would love and make them feel special.

Being honest, that was the problem. In all the years he had celebrated Valentines —the ones when he was not single— he had never, ever, received a gift. In all his relationships, he was always the one who gave, to a point where he had gotten used to never receiving back.

It was okay, he supposed. Even if his chest hurt at the sight of other couples walking down the street, hand by hand, a big bouquet of roses in one’s hands and a lovingly wrapped box on the other’s arms. It wasn’t as if they didn’t love him, right? Some people were less thoughtful than others.

That was why, he didn’t expect anything from Sirius either. This was their first Valentine’s day together after dating for a few months, even though they had known each other since they were kids. After long and pitiful years of both of them trying to forget the feelings for each other by seeing other people, and a relieving and drunk evening of both of them confessing to each other and lovinly making out on every alleyway on their way home, now they were together. And it was perfect, so perfect Remus had trouble believing something so good had happened to him.

Sirius was the best boyfriend he had ever had, that was undeniable. He was caring, affectionate and never afraid to show his love for Remus at any circumstance. Unlike Remus’ ex-partners, Sirius made every effort to include Remus in his life, to make him feel loved, appreciated and valued. And the best thing? He did it as easy as breathing, as if loving Remus was a sigh of relieve or the first drop of cold water after a hot summer day. He did it as if loving Remus was an honour he was thankful to have and as if Remus was the final award he had worked hard to get.

And, even thought he knew Sirius loved him —it was undeniable, not something he could ignore with the way he adoringly looked at him, big grey eyes full of stars— he still was afraid of getting his hopes up, because this time it would truly hurt.

So he just did his usual. After work, he bought a bouquet of forget-me-nots —Sirius’ favorite— and the Bowie collector’s edition record he knew Sirius had been interested in for a while. He didn’t expect anything in return, he really didn’t. But he couldn’t come home empty-handed, because he loved Sirius and wanted to make him happy. It was that simple.

When he opened the flat’s door, a sweet, overwhelming smell crawled up his nose and gave him goosebumps. He’d always had a sweet tooth, something others judged him for, but Sirius always said: ‘It makes sense, Moons, ‘cause you’re so sweet’.

‘Pads, are you home?’ he asked out loud, and the answer he received was a high-pitched giggle. His own heart melted at the sound, and he couldn’t help but grin as he walked towards the kitchen.

‘Baby?’ he asked again when he entered the room, and his whole world paused for a moment as he took in the sight in front of him.

Sirius —his messy, chaotic boy that never got near the stove because ‘cooking and I don’t get along’— was now smiling enthusiastically at him, the blue and white apron —Remus’ apron— hugging his slim waist, the pink oven gloves too big on his hands and a tray full of chocolate cookies in front of his chest.

‘They are homemade’, he said, and Remus knew before he even told him. The cookies were imperfect, some of them amorphous, the attempt to make them heart-shaped just that, an attempt. And maybe that was what made Remus felt so warm, the familiarity of it all, knowing just by a glance that it was obvious Sirius had made those cookies because he had no idea on how to cook and he was such a bighead he still had wanted to try. For him. For Remus.

‘You made those… for me?’ In another situation he would have been embarrassed of the trembling on his voice, on the stupid way his eyes were watering because his boyfriend had made him homemade cookies and he felt the luckiest person in the whole world, but right now he couldn’t help to care.

Sirius gave him a gentle smile and left the tray on the counter. He then walked towards Remus until his toes were pressing against Remus’ shoes and he stood on his tiptoes, their noses brushing.

��What wouldn’t I make for you, my Moonbeam?’ His voice was just a whisper, his hands were warm as he squeezed Remus’ cheeks and gave him a soft peck.

And it was clear as water, at that moment, what Sirius felt and what Remus was worth of receiving. The gift could have been a used sock, it didn’t matter. Sirius loved him and it wasn’t about Valentine’s or any other festivity. Every day was special when Remus could wake up with a cascade of long black hair all over his face, when Sirius would laugh hard and smile even wider whenever Remus showered him with kisses before they went to work, when they would reunite at night and love each other so passionately as if they had been separated for a million years.

‘Did you love the gift?’ Sirius asked against his lips, and Remus could taste the chocolate and that particular sirius flavor he couldn’t get enough of.

‘I love you’, he answered, and it was the first time he said those words to Sirius, because he had always been afraid of being too much, of crossing a line that wasn’t even drawn. It was funny, how his fear seemed so meaningless now and how easy it was to love the careless man in front of him, to silently vow his whole life to him knowing that it was mutual.

He saw the surprise in Sirius’ eyes, and it quickly turned into intense fondness as he rubbed their noses together and grabbed Remus’ neck to bring their lips together, this time for a deeper, slower kiss.

There, in their small flat’s kitchen, eating some burnt, hard chocolate cookies, Remus said ‘I love you’ to Sirius a thousand times more.

There, with Sirius sitting on his lap and crying of happiness as he smelled the flowers and bobbed his head to the Bowie record, Remus fell in love with Sirius all over again.

[gingermintpepper]

I would love to hear you talk about Kassandra???

So, what can I say about Kassandra.

Well, firstly, I've been thinking about how I want to answer this question since I got it however many months ago and I figured I wanted to speak about my own interpretation of things rather than formal stuff - half because I don't want to cite anything since going through Iliad based papers brings me little joy and half because I figure I could treat it a bit more casually this way. So here's like, a very brief selection of thoughts I have about Kassandra, Saintess of Troy.

I view her tale as a microcosm of the wider tale of the Fall of Troy from Apollo's perspective. A human is given a choice and, of their own free-will, they make the most destructive decision ignorant of the way they're sealing their own fate and no matter how much their patron will want to save and help them, they will be unable to so much as lift a meaningful finger because the choice made is one that is sealed in Fate and powers far beyond any one god. The themes of doomed love are also shared; Kassandra loved Apollo just as Apollo loved her but she couldn't be what he wanted of her. She couldn't accept what it was he was offering, no matter how much power, honour and love he tried to tempt her with and in a lot of ways, I think of her devastating visions of doom and death(tm) as a physical parallel to the feelings Helen must be tormented with knowing that she will be cited as the reason of such mass death, destruction and violence. Likewise, I see Apollo's inability to save Kassandra up until the end as representative of his wider inability to save Troy. All his love and blessing were not enough, even though all she had to do was take his hand, it simply wasn't meant to be and so I imagine that must be a fresh hurt for him with each beloved mortal he loses during the campaign.

Kassandra is genuinely so interesting? Both as a character and as a narrative idea; she sits almost in the center of so many fascinating parallels and foils that it gets me so excited whenever she comes up in conversation! I've mentioned it briefly before but she forms a very neat triad with Iphigenia and Troilus which runs parallel to the three dominant male powers in Iliad - Agamemnon, Achilles and Apollo. They're what I somewhat refer to as the sacrifice trio, innocents who must ultimately be abandoned and stripped away for the sake of the desire of their sacrificer, in turn revealing something intrinsic about the nature of the man. For Iphigenia, she reveals that Agamemnon truly values his ambition over all, that his image and status as a leader is more meaningful to him than the love of his family (which, of course, dooms him in the end). Likewise, for Achilles, Troilus' sacrifice reveals that no matter the glamour or glory that crowns Achilles' head, his rage is ultimately his most powerful feeling and it burns bright and hot no matter the circumstance, opponent or arena. For Apollo, Kassandra's sacrifice (which is much more symbolic as he is a god and therefore need not actually physically kill her) reveals his position as the 'loser', one who will be scorned and reviled and lose all the things he loves no matter how closely he cherishes or adorns them. He can't protect the mortals he's blessed, he can't protect his children - he can't even save one woman. She also has that aforementioned triad with Helen and Andromache - the sequestered women; doomed to wait and pray but each, in their own ways working to save and support their own in the conflict. They're all haunted by the promise of what awaits them - Andromache's hopes and future lies with Hector and with her son yet she is the embodiment of a war-wife, solid and stoic in her support when Hector returns but suffering deeply knowing each fight could be his last. Helen, of course, carries with her both the suffering of the greek women and the hatred of their men - if Andromache fears death taking the breath from her beloved fighters then Helen bears the weight of death upon her shoulders, all grief and scorn is bore like a crown upon her head and she must bear it. It is her duty to bear it. Kassandra then becomes the suffering of the young women - they who are surrounding on all sides by throngs of death and do not know why it has come, they whose screams intermix with that of the dead upon them. There is no avatar for Kassandra to experience the war through, no reason for her to be stoic or strong or upright. She tears her hair, hysterical at the suffering that is poured into her mind day in and day out, wild and unrestrained where her elders must hold their grief and tame it. In this way, she gives voice to the voiceless, she screams for those who cannot and is reviled for it - a young woman surrounded by death yet ordered not to speak a word of its stench or horror. There's many more things I can talk about too such as the whole Kassandra as Apollo's living Palladium thing or the Kassandra-Electra-Clytemnestra trio or even Chryseis as a reflection of Kassandra and how the taking of a priest's daughter could be seen as tantamount to trying to steal away Kassandra (and how this eventually wraps back around to the actual incident of Kassandra being stolen away and ending up right back under Agamemnon's care just as Chryseis before her) but like, we would be here all day.

Y'all maybe this is a hot take but scorned woman Kassandra is like, the most boring interpretation of her ever. She has so much life and passion in her, so much joy, so much despair, so much love - making her jaded and cynical towards both her fate and her god is such a slap in the face to me of what her character could and generally does seem to stand for. Kassandra never stopped loving Apollo - likewise, Apollo (at least to me) never abandoned her. All in Troy suffer heavy, cursed fates - Kassandra is one of the few who at least had some awareness of how hers would turn out. I like that she's a fighter. I like that she screams and cries and spits and is expressive and ugly in her torment and grief when so many of the women around her cannot afford to be. I like that she said no and despite how much she suffered for it, she never begged for her yolk to be taken from her because she knew that the choice she made was the right one for her. She's raw, she's vivid, she's human and more than anything, that's what I love so much about her.

[seiwas]

hello sel!!! hru doing??

The ask game is super fun! How about Gojo + vindictive.

I hope u hv had a lovely day 🫶

zuro anon

zuro anon hello!! thanks for sending in a prompt!! i'm doing good 🥺 spending this lil vacay at home, mostly 🥺 and happy to be back writing 🥺 i hope you have the loveliest weekend 💗

contains: non-canon, childhood enemies to lovers (ish), (modern) arranged marriage, reader wears a braid and dresses

gojo + vindictive

you hate gojo satoru. you have ever since you were 5.

he's a bully―a real cocky one at that, with no regard or remorse for how his actions affect those around him.

on the day before your 6th birthday, right as your parents gathered together for the annual countdown, he gobbled up the entire plate of your favorite milk cakes before you could even take a bite. this marked the start, the beginning of a vengeance stewing inside of you.

at the age of 8, when you first learned how to do your own braids, he would tug at them, pull them free and unravel all your hard work for the past hour. you used to chase him for it, yell "satoru!" with all the strength your little lungs could muster and he would merely laugh and run faster.

the name "satoru," you've learned, must be synonymous with "sabotage," because it's all he's ever done. he threw the flower geto suguru handpicked for you straight to the ground, and purposely splashed gutter water all over the white dress you intended to wear on your first date.

not to mention, he's always rubbed in the fact that he's better than you, at everything―dangled all his accomplishments in front of you as if he knew they were just centimeters out of reach.

gojo satoru is solely responsible for tainting your childhood memories a miserable cerulean blue.

so, when your parents sit you down one day and tell you that you'll have to marry him, you feel transported in that moment, to each and every instance gojo has ever wronged you. it flips through your mind like a montage of flashbacks in a movie.

it's both surprising and not. your families have always been partners, in everything―business, education, and now you guess, life as well. you hate gojo's guts but this creates an opportunity you don't think can result from anything else.

so, sure, you'll agree to the marriage―only to make his life a living hell.

"hello, fiancée," he greets you, for the first time since the agreement.

you don't do anything to hide your disgust, face scrunching up as you spit out, "shut up, satoru."

the wedding planning is horrendous―at least, you hope it is for him. you pick out every single cake flavor you know he hates and choose the brightest venue possible for the event. the lights you pick for the afterparty are strobe lights, and you make sure to do multiple test runs just to play with his eyes. it doesn't occur to you that the solution to his light sensitivity is simple: just a plain pair of shades.

you wear plumping lip gloss on your wedding day, just so his lips burn when you have to kiss him. but gojo is either extremely numb or just good at faking it, because all he does is grin as he whispers quietly before parting, "spicy."

in preparation for your married life, you create a ledger of some sort―a book of accounts housing every single thing gojo has done wrong. you write down your plans to get him back for each of them, a list of pranks and inconveniences to make him regret ever messing with you all those years ago.

at half a year of marriage and 25 years of knowing each other, he casually tells you the big "i love you," but you're sure he doesn't mean it. you tell yourself your heart is racing from how infuriating his existence is; at how stupid his face looked when he'd said it. not anything else and most especially not the little dimple on his cheek that shows itself every now and then.

(you didn't know it yet then, but he'd found the ledger you kept and read through it all. the one-year plan, the three-year plan, the five, and so on. and it does nothing but strengthen how he feels about you, since he was 6, 14, and a few years ago at 24.

it's at your third year of marriage that you find out―how gojo's known all this time, but more importantly, how there were reasons behind every single instance you thought he was out to ruin your life.

with intelligence far beyond his age, gojo has always preferred the company of adults more than children. at age 6, he would listen in on conversations his mother had with her friends, roughly comprehending complex worlds with the simple ones he understood. someone had mentioned something about their daughter being allergic to milk. and so, when your birthday came up and all he saw were milk treats, he gobbled them all up in an effort to make sure you wouldn't be subjected to an adverse reaction―even though you were far off from any dairy allergy.

what he was sure of, however, was that you were severely allergic to bees. and when he spotted one perched right on the buttercup stem geto handed you, he had no choice but to smack it right out of your hand and down to the ground, stepping on it too, for good measure.

and, okay, maybe he was a little naughty for tugging at your braids when you'd just spent all that time doing them, but he always liked how they flowed into waves when they unravelled; how you'd chase him afterwards, angry but so, so pretty.

if there's one moment gojo will consider real sabotage, though, it's that date he stopped you from going to. like there was any way he was going to let another man see you dressed like that. he isn't nice that way. when gojo wants something, he's not sharing, and the sight of you in white―that was meant to be his and only his.)

[imtrashraccoon]

If it's ok can you do a bad sanses x child reader oneshot where the reader is part of the Bad sanses but as a healer but when it's morning and one of the boys goes to her room she was a child with no memory of them. So now they have to look after her while figuring out how to fix her. When looking after her she acts kind, chill and well behaved after being scared of them since she doesn't remember them but cross acts protective and horror acts like a teddy bear towards them and you can decide how the others act towards them and to avoid confusion the reader was an orphan back in their dead au and you can include Dr Baggs in it if you want (I'm sorry for the long read I hope your ok woth this and I thought you would like the idea)

My sincerest apologies for the wait! I was in the middle of the Don't Imagine event when you sent this, then I got burnt out not long afterwards, and then I rewrote the plot for this... Phew! I hope you don't mind, but I decided to set this in the same multiverse as Have Some Empathy, Dear because it's been on my mind a lot lately.

Confused and Afraid

Word Count: 6,152

The room was too hot, but when you kicked off the heavy blankets, you were suddenly too cold. Your head hurt really bad and when you sat up, you were hit with a sudden dizzy spell that all but forced you to lay back down. It felt like an eternity before your head stopped spinning. You made sure to sit up more carefully this time round, so as to not agitate your sensitive head further.

It was still dark. You weren't sure what time it was and you couldn't see much beyond your bed. Where was your nightlight? Had Mom forgotten to plug it in when she tucked you into bed? Where was Teddy? You wouldn't have gone to bed without him, so could the stuffed bear have fallen onto the floor?

Your throat felt as dry as a desert. You debated calling out for one of your parents, but you were a big girl now. You could find your way to the kitchen on your own. However, getting out of bed was harder than you remembered and the floor felt like ice to your bare feet. Maybe you should put on a pair of socks before getting that drink.

You went to take a step when all of the sudden, a pervading sense of wrongness flooded through you. You weren't wearing your favourite pair of pajamas, but a massive t-shirt that was more like a dress on your small frame. The bed seemed too large for you and none of the dark shapes against the walls resembled any of your bedroom furniture.

You struggled to piece together anything that could explain why you were in this strange room, but the more you tried to think, the worse your headache seemed to become. Plopping down on the ground, you rubbed at your head in a vain attempt to ease the pain. On a whim, you even tried using your healing magic and, while it helped, a dull ache still lingered despite your best efforts.

Interestingly, the glow from your magic provided enough light to navigate the room. With renewed confidence, you resumed your earlier mission now that you could see where you were going. Unfortunately, the doorknob was juuust out of reach and you had to stand on your tiptoes to turn it. With some difficulty, you managed to get the door open and peeked outside.

The hallway beyond was just as dark as the room had been, but it was larger and your magic wasn't bright enough to illuminate it. For a moment, you hesitated, wondering if you should just forget all this. It would be morning soon and then you could navigate this place without fear. However, before you could come to a decision, you heard a shuffling sound as if something was slowly approaching.

You turned slowly, only to come face to face with a very large shadow. It was so tall that you had to crane your neck to even see its face and when you did so, you let out a gasp.

A single glowing red eye was staring down at you.

You darted back into the bedroom and in your panic, slammed the door shut behind you. Where could you hide?! That...thing had seen you and who knew if the door would keep it out.

There was only one place that could possibly hide you. With no time to think, you dove under the bed as far as you could manage, clutching at your knees in an attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

There was a soft tap on the door and you quickly covered your mouth to muffle your fearful sob. Your heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it would burst and you could hardly seem to get enough air with each shuddering breath you took.

"...button?"

The monster's voice was somewhat subdued thanks to the door, but it sounded a lot deeper than you had thought possible. You didn't know what they wanted, but you certainly weren't about to find out. Maybe they would lose interest and move on?

"...are ya there?"

You remained as still as a mouse, wishing this was all just a nightmare and that you would wake up soon. Your mother had always told you that monsters weren't real, but now you weren't so sure. They didn't look like a person wearing a costume, but you were too scared to find out.

You heard the doorknob jiggle, but then it stopped and you heard someone else outside the bedroom.

"axe? what's wrong?" a concerned but even toned voice asked.

"...i don't know? she's...very small?"

There was a beat of silence.

"hey, you okay in there?" the second voice called out. "can i come in? you don't have to be afraid, we just want to make sure everything is alright."

You bit your lower lip. This person didn't sound scary, but what if they were just pretending so you'd let them in? You clutched your knees tighter, curling up even further into yourself. There was no way you were taking that chance.

To your horror, your lack of response did nothing to dissuade them and your heart skipped a beat as the door opened with a soft click. The darkness was suddenly chased away as one of them turned on the light, although your little hiding spot remained shrouded in shadows. You could hear them moving about the room and you knew it was only a matter of time before you were discovered.

A pair of white boots stepped up to the bed before their owner gingerly knelt down and peeked underneath. You let out a whimper when their white eyelights locked onto you.

"oh. she really is...small." For a moment, the new monster looked uncertain, but his expression soon morphed into one of concern. "hey juniper, it's okay... do you think you can come out?" he asked softly. "we don't want to hurt you, okay?"

You vehemently shook your head.

"c'mon, it's okay-"

Before he could finish his sentence, you felt a hand grab onto your shoulder and unceremoniously drag you out from under the bed. Apparently, the first monster had decided to circle around to the other side while the second served as a distraction, intentionally or not. Despite his size, you hadn't even heard him moving around after they'd both entered the room. You struggled and cried, but he wasn't about to let go, choosing instead to pin you against his own body and hold you there.

"dude! that's the exact opposite of what i was trying to do!" the second monster scolded as he stood up. "you've just made her even more scared."

The hulking monster let out a huff. "...too slow," he rumbled.

With a sigh, the second monster moved around the bed. He studied you for a moment but didn't try to touch you. Neither said anything, but the first monster shifted you into a more comfortable position and began sort of petting your head, as if he was trying to calm you down. When your sobbing began to ease and you weren't trembling as badly, you were able to determine that they were actually skeleton monsters.

The second one was wearing a black tank top and black shorts with white X's instead of stripes along the sides. The tips of his phalanges were slightly rounded and he didn't appear to have sharp teeth either. He had a red scar underneath his right eye socket and a few scratches along his arms, but otherwise didn't seem too scary.

The first skeleton was another story. The lack of shadows helped, but now that you could see him properly, he still had a lot of scary features. His phalanges seemed to be tipped with sharp claws and his slightly too wide smile was filled with sharp teeth. His singular red eyelight was shaped differently than his companion's, almost like a cat's, and the left side of his skull had a massive crack that meant you could see clear inside his head if there was anything to see. At least the plain t-shirt and basketball shorts he was wearing seemed normal enough.

"do...do you remember us?" the monochromatic skeleton asked quietly.

You frowned and shook your head. As far as you were aware, you had never seen these two in your life. They looked pretty distinct, almost like they had stepped out of a tv show, but none that you had watched. If you had met them before, you were pretty sure you would remember something like that.

Both skeletons seemed upset by this, but the second managed to quickly compose himself. "okay then... this is fine," he muttered before turning back to you. "how about we start with introductions? then, we won't seem like strangers anymore."

You half nodded and half shook your head, but he seemed slightly encouraged that you'd even tried to answer in the first place.

The monochromatic skeleton smiled. "my name is cross, and this, " he motioned to your captor, "is axe."

You glanced up nervously at the skeleton in question. With a name like that, the hulk of a monster couldn't sound less scary if he tried. While Cross had a bit of a formal air about him, Axe seemed much more wild and rough around the edges. It didn't help that he was intensely staring at you either.

You swallowed nervously and decided to just look at Cross instead. With some difficulty, you managed to give them your name, but neither seemed at all surprised, as if they really had met you before. It felt kind of weird and you didn't know why.

"would you like something drink? we could make hot chocolate if you want?" Cross suggested.

Axe nodded in agreement. "...good idea. somethin' warm an' sweet should help ya feel better."

You had almost forgotten how thirsty you were, but before you could answer, someone lightly rapped on the bedroom door. Both Cross and Axe visibly tensed up and slowly turned around. Now, there were two other skeletons standing in the doorway; one wearing a pink cat onesie while the other had on a blue hoodie with black basketball shorts.

The skeleton in the onesie must have been the one to knock and as soon as he had the other's attention, he pushed off the wall and grinned. "hey~ don't think you could leave me out of the fun!" he exclaimed with a slight chuckle.

The first things that you noticed about him were the glowing red target above his chest and his lack of eyelights. There were also black lines running down his cheekbones, starting at his eye sockets, but otherwise, he sported no visible scars.

The other skeleton remained silent and while you couldn't really see his facial expression thanks to the shadow from his hood, you could see his glowing eyelights. Both were red, although the left one had a small ring of blue towards the center, and while he appeared disinterested, he was still staring right at you. Notably, he was also wearing white gloves and a red scarf.

"we're not having fun," Cross started to say. "this is actually rather serious-"

"yeah, yeah, don't get your uniform in a twist, crossy~"

Having been rudely interrupted, Cross glared at the new skeleton and clenched his fists. The skeleton in question sort of pranced over, although the hooded one stayed near the door for now, seemingly content to watch.

"how'd you get a kid?" the new skeleton asked, pushing Cross out of the way to get closer to you.

Axe only let out a low growl and lifted you out of reach, which had you scrambling to hold onto him for fear of falling.

"as i was trying to say," Cross huffed. He grabbed onto the annoying skeleton's onesie and walked him back a few feet, much to his chagrin. "juniper seems to have shrunk and we aren't sure why yet."

"...she also doesn't remember anythin'," Axe added helpfully as he shifted you into his shoulder.

"that may not be a bad thing tho-"

The new skeleton was abruptly silenced by harsh glares from your protectors.

With a sigh, Cross turned back to you. "this is killer. he's unfortunately always like this..."

"hey, i resent that!" the aforementioned skeleton grumbled.

"...and that's dust. i should warn you that he likes being left alone most of the time," Cross continued and gestured towards the hooded skeleton.

Dust tilted his head slightly, but other than that brief acknowledgement, said nothing.

You nearly jumped when Killer appeared next to you, even though he couldn't really reach you. Apparently, he didn't enjoy being ignored even for a moment, but other than looking slightly miffed, he seemed curious.

"soooo," he started to say. "is it true that you really don't remember me?"

You studied him carefully for a moment before slowly shaking your head.

He chuckled, although you thought it sounded rather hollow. "i see... memory issues are always fun," he hummed. "don't worry, cupcake. we'll figure this out, won't we?"

Axe hummed in agreement and Cross gave you a small smile. You weren't sure how they intended to help you with remembering, but they certainly seemed confident enough. Maybe you had misjudged them? They were still scary of course, but they seemed to like you well enough, so maybe everything would be alright.

You weren't sure about Dust though. He hadn't said anything since entering the room, instead choosing to just watch. He almost seemed disinterested in the whole situation. However, when you turned to look at him, he gave you a thumbs up, as if he knew what you had been thinking.

"O-okay, I'll... I'll trust you guys," you said quietly.

While they all seemed pleased by this revelation, Killer managed to be the most enthusiastic, to the point where it felt weird. However, you were only half paying attention because you noticed Dust suddenly shift and glance out into the hall. Whatever or whoever he'd seen was apparently a big deal, since he immediately straightened up and moved out of the way.

Another Monster stepped into the bedroom, and while he kind of looked similar to the others, you weren't sure if he was actually a skeleton. He was covered in a black inky substance and four tendrils emerged from his back. His right eye socket was obscured, but his left held a cyan eyelight that looked sort of similar to Axe's. Even the bathrobe he was wearing was black, although you weren't sure if it was also covered in the strange substance or not.

"What is going...? Oh, I see..."

The moment his eyelight landed on you, his permanent smile sharpened and you felt a chill run down your spine. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around Axe's cervical vertebrae and tried to make yourself as small as possible. You didn't have to ask to know that this new person was much more dangerous than the others.

To his credit, Axe took almost being throttled rather well and carefully pulled your arms away, simultaneously shifting you into a better position. " 's all right, button," he murmured while carefully stroking your hair. "just our boss, nightmare."

What a fitting name for someone who looked like something your brain would inadvertently conjure up to scare you. Unfortunately, Axe's attempts to soothe your anxiety were ineffective and you only clung tighter to him.

Nightmare let out a soft chuckle as he crossed the room, apparently finding your fear amusing. It didn't help that no one stopped him, although you felt Axe tense up ever so slightly when he drew closer. Even Cross silently stepped aside, but by the way he clenched his fists by his sides, you didn't think he had wanted to.

"You aren't wrong to be afraid," Nightmare said to you quietly. "But I'm not going to hurt you, dear." You didn't miss the fact that he also had sharp claws and shied away when he gently moved some of your hair out of your face, although there wasn't really anywhere to go. He scrutinized you for a moment before glancing up at Axe. "May I see her?"

The giant of a skeleton let out a small huff and narrowed his eye sockets. Rather than immediately obey, he turned his attention to you. "think you can be brave for me?" he asked. "you can trust him, alright?"

You didn't believe him at all, but it didn't seem like you had much of a choice. So, you took a deep breath and nodded. "I-I'll try..."

"i know ya can," Axe murmured. He managed to ruffle your hair one more time before gingerly passing you over to his boss.

Nightmare was a lot more gentle than you had expected. While at first he held you with both arms, he soon added one of his tendrils to free up one of his hands. The interesting part was that the inky substance covering him didn't come off onto your skin or clothing. It was cool to the touch and sort of squishy, but you could still feel his bones underneath. His tendrils were even more spongy than his body, and while they weren't immediately obvious, there were rows of little suction cups along the underside. They struck you as being similar to an octopus' tentacles, which was somehow oddly amusing to you.

"This is all rather confusing, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah," you murmured, ducking your head against his sternum.

Nightmare hummed softly and lifted your chin with a phalanx. For a moment, he stared at you intently, which only served to make you more uncomfortable, but you felt like you couldn't look away. It wasn't like he was forcing you to maintain eye contact, but he had a sort of commanding presence that was almost enthralling.

His eye socket widened slightly and then he broke eye contact. You were left feeling more confused. What had he seen? Was there something wrong with you? By the other's earlier reactions, you knew that they knew something had happened, but you just didn't know what.

"I'm going to take her to Dr. Baggs," he stated firmly. "He should be able to figure out what happened."

Cross looked a little uncertain but didn't protest. "that's probably a good idea."

Axe nodded in agreement.

Even Killer seemed to think it was a good idea. "don't worry, sweetie, the doc knows his stuff." He winked and shot you a pair of finger guns.

"I'll need to talk with each of you later," Nightmare said as he turned to leave. "The sooner we get to the bottom of this the better."

You chewed at your bottom lip. "I-is there something w-wrong with me?"

Nightmare ran his claws through your hair in what was likely an attempt to be comforting, but his movements were stiffer than Axe's had been. "That is why I want to get an expert's opinion," he answered in a softer tone. "I wouldn't say there's anything wrong in particular, but something has certainly affected your physical form."

Dust gave a slight nod as you were carried out of the bedroom. If you weren't suddenly so anxious about your current situation, you might've waved goodbye or done anything to acknowledge him in return. As it stood though, you barely glanced at him before Nightmare whisked you away and down the still very dark hallway.

"Close your eyes, dear."

Nightmare was back to his earlier stern tone. You thought about mentioning that you couldn't even see where he was taking you, but then he stopped walking and looked down at you. Thanks to the glow of his cyan eyelight, you could tell that he wore an expectant expression and that he wasn't giving you the option to say no.

So, you gave in. You closed your eyes, but only after snuggling further into his hold.

"Good girl, now keep them closed until I say." With that, you felt his tentacles coil around you, sort of like a cocoon, so that there was no chance of somehow becoming separated from him.

You nodded against his collarbone.

The ambient sounds of the castle suddenly faded and were replaced with dead silence. The temperature also turned cooler than it already was, but only for a moment. Then, everything shifted again. You began to notice the sound of air conditioning and the occasional beeping noise.

"It's alright, you may open your eyes now," Nightmare murmured softly.

To your surprise, you were somewhere entirely different. The vast ceiling and gray stonework had been replaced by a narrow corridor and sterile tiles. Instead of torch sconces on the walls, there was now fluorescent tube lighting along the ceiling. Unfortunately, the air was still just as chilly as the castle had been and you huddled closer to Nightmare in an attempt to conserve what body heat you had.

The aforementioned skeleton seemed to notice your shivering. He wrapped another of his tendrils around your small form, but it didn't help much since he wasn't exactly warm blooded like you were. Still, you appreciated his attempt and the added support was comforting.

There were a lot of closed doors in this hallway, but at the end there was one that looked like it had been heavily reinforced. Nightmare stopped in front of this door and knocked before stepping back to wait. You looked up at him curiously, but when he didn't say anything, you turned your attention back to the door.

There wasn't any visible knobs nor an obvious way to open the door, although you did notice a keypad set into a nearby wall. Instead of numbers, the buttons had strange symbols in a seemingly random order. Could they be from another language or maybe a code? Just above the keypad, there was a small screen and next to that, a small blue light. Or maybe it was a sensor? You weren't sure, but every now and then, it would pulse before returning to normal.

Just then, the screen flickered to life and a skeleton appeared, although he was rendered in varying shades of blue.

"you should know i'm very- oh. it's you."

The speakers didn't seem to be very good quality, but you could still tell this skeleton had a deep voice. He also sounded irritated, especially when he recognized Nightmare. With the camera's quality, you couldn't make out much, but he seemed to wearing an unusual high collared coat? Was he really a doctor?

"I'm sure you're absolutely swamped with work, like usual," Nightmare responded. His tone sounded almost snarky and you noticed the corners of his permanent smile stretch into more of a sneer. It faded almost immediately and you felt his grip on you tighten ever so slightly. "However, I need your expertise, doctor."

Baggs' eyelights flicked to you and he narrowed his eye sockets suspiciously. After a moment, he sighed, "fine, but you'll owe me for this..."

After a moment, you heard five distinct thunks as each of the bolt locks retracted. With a hiss, the heavy metal paneling parted to reveal the room beyond. The whole process felt like you were about to enter a bank vault, but you weren't sure why a simple doctor would need so much security.

The room was filled with large tanks, gray filing cabinets, and various other instruments that you couldn't name. A beefy computer with multiple monitors was set up on a large desk that took up the bulk of one wall. There were also a few more normal pieces of furniture like a couch, a small table and chairs, and two hospital beds shoved into one corner. It was definitely more of a lab than an office, having been built with function in mind rather than comfort.

"you better have a very good reason for bringing me a child."

Dr. Baggs had his arms crossed when the two of you entered the laboratory. He was nearly a foot shorter than Nightmare, and while he bore some similarities to the other skeletons you'd met previously, he was also very different. For one, his eyelights were different colours; his left being a soft magenta while the other was a pale white. He was wearing a lab coat, but it had a cape with magenta highlights in the lining. Combined with the long black rubber gloves he was wearing, you thought he looked more like a mad scientist from a cartoon than a doctor.

"Oh c'mon, Baggs. I'm sure it's not as bad as you think," a feminine voice called out.

You hadn't noticed the small desk in the far corner, nor the woman who'd been previously organizing several stacks of papers behind it. She had dark medium length hair that was slightly wavy, greenish blue eyes, and a pale complexion. She was wearing a thick green turtleneck sweater and black pants.

She smiled and walked around the desk to join the rest of you. "It's nice to see you again, Nightmare, but who is this?" she asked, looking at you.

"This is the human Horror and Cross found a year ago after her AU collapsed, remember?" He gave you an affectionate squeeze with his tentacles before glancing down at you. "This is Minty. You've met her a few times actually, but she's not in the castle as often as she used to be."

Minty cocked her head, giving you a curious look as she studied your face. "Oh! Yes, you were training to be a healer, if I'm not mistaken."

Well now you had even more questions. What was an AU? How come everyone seemed to remember things that you couldn't? What had happened to you?

Baggs' expression softened slightly and he uncrossed his arms. "let's just get this over with so you can go back to your fancy castle," he grumbled.

While he still sounded a little annoyed, he did seem relieved that you weren't some random kid that Nightmare had decided to kidnap. You didn't blame him though. Neither Baggs nor Nightmare seemed to like the other and you had a feeling the doctor didn't enjoy being roped into unsavoury business.

~ ~ ~ <3

"Here."

You looked over at Minty, noticing that she was offering you a piece of candy.

"Thanks," you murmured, carefully unwrapping the sweet.

She smoothed out your hair a little and smiled. "You did good by the way. I don't think Baggs is used to having such a...cooperative patient."

You let out a quiet hum, glancing over at the other side of the room where Nightmare and the doctor in question were going over the results of the tests. Their expressions were indecipherable and they were speaking to each other quietly, so you couldn't tell what they were saying.

Towards the end of the check up, Baggs had attached a few wires to your chest, which apparently allowed him to see a scan of your soul on his tablet. If you hadn't felt so nervous, you might have thought it was amazing that he could do that, but you were just glad he hadn't had to summon your soul in the first place.

Unfortunately, if the slightly concerned look he got when he read over the results was anything to go by, then there was something seriously wrong with your soul. The other adults also seemed to notice, and while Nightmare was quick to try and understand the situation, Minty had elected to distract and comfort you instead.

It was nerve wracking to say the least. You didn't know what was going on and no one was explaining anything. How bad was it? Were you going to die?

Minty's fingers moved from your head to your back, tracing slow patterns across your shirt. Every now and then, she would apply a bit more pressure, almost like a gentle massage, before returning to a more mindless rhythm.

You couldn't focus on anything. The room felt like it was spinning and the only sound you could hear was the pounding of your own heart. Just as the panic was beginning to overwhelm you, a warm feeling seemed to blossom from your chest, spreading out until your entire body felt wrapped up in a blanket of hope. It was disorientating; this feeling wasn't yours and you didn't know where it had come from.

Minty's hands tightened on your shoulders, jolting you back to reality. "It's going to be alright, sweetie," she whispered in your ear.

The realization that she had somehow been able to manipulate your emotions sent a chill down your spine. You whipped your head around and stared at her in shock. Did she also have magic like you did?

Seemingly reading your mind, Minty gave you a wry smile and patted your shoulder. "Sorry if my Intent startled you. I thought you seemed a bit on edge and I wanted to help."

You opened your mouth to ask what she meant, when Nightmare suddenly let out a growl of frustration.

"I don't care what you think, I'm not leaving her here!" His body was rigid, save for the occasional twitch from his tentacles, as if he was doing everything in his being to keep from lashing out at the doctor.

To your surprise, Baggs didn't even flinch, instead giving the angry god an almost bored look. His mismatched eyelights briefly flicked to his tablet before looking over at Minty, who silently shrugged.

Apparently, Nightmare wasn't happy with his protests being ignored and he moved closer, effectively pinning Baggs against a nearby desk. "Listen and listen well," he hissed, prodding the doctor's sternum with a clawed finger. "She deserves to stay with people who care about her. I made a mistake and I'm going to fix it, understand?"

Baggs said nothing, continuing to passively stare at Nightmare. Finally, he let out a sigh and looked away, running a gloved hand over his face. "fine, do what you think is best. this whole mess is outside my expertise anyways," he muttered.

"Nightmare?" At the sound of Minty's quiet question, both skeletons turned to look at her. "What did you do?" She sounded concerned and a little suspicious at the same time.

The god's good eye socket widened and you thought he looked almost...guilty? He started to walk towards both of you, but stopped himself a few paces away.

"Nothing, I did nothing," he finally answered.

Minty closed the distance, fixing him with an unimpressed look and crossing her arms. "Really? You're telling me you aren't the reason our friend is like this now? I thought you prided yourself on always telling the truth?"

Her accusations seemed to hit a nerve. "I have never lied," Nightmare hissed. He took a step forward, so that he was all but leering over the smaller woman, his tendrils flicking with irritation. "No, I am the reason." His cyan eyelight flicked lower, briefly focusing on her chest before refocusing on her face. "She's like you, and I did nothing..."

Minty let out an audible gasp, her hand quickly covering her mouth as she stepped back. The tension in her body seemed to evaporate all at once and her shoulders slumped. She glanced at you, concern written all over her face, before turning back to the god.

"Why?" she murmured. "Did you forget she was an...incode?"

"No. I just... I didn't think my men would bond with another human. I didn't think she would stick around this long. I thought your relationship with them was the exception, not the rule."

Minty clenched her fists at her sides, as if she was barely restraining her anger. "Get out," she growled. "If you're serious about this, you have a lot of fixing to do."

Nightmare nodded stiffly, "I'm sorry." He held eye contact with her for a few seconds, his eyelight flickering with an unknown emotion. Slowly, he tore himself away and walked over to the bed, carefully gathering you into his arms.

You didn't protest in the slightest, simply allowing him to tuck you against his ribcage. His tentacles coiled securely around your torso, both supporting and comforting you.

Neither Minty nor Baggs said anything, although the former refused to look at Nightmare as he left with you. Baggs briefly caught your eye, but he soon turned his attention to Minty, placing his hand on her arm. He looked concerned, almost like he was going to say something, but the heavy doors slid shut before you could hear anything.

This time, Nightmare didn't need to tell you to close your eyes. You buried your face into his robe, letting out a quiet sob and clutching the dark fabric so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

Rather than immediately teleport back to the castle, Nightmare hesitated. "I know, dear," he murmured, tracing slow lines up and down your back with his claws. "I won't judge you for being afraid or upset."

You cried softly for a few minutes as he continued trying to soothe you. "I'm...going to die..." you finally whispered.

His grip on you tightened and he let out a quiet hiss under his breath. "No. I won't let that happen." His tone was firm, leaving no room for doubt in your mind, and so, you nodded silently rather than protest.

Before you knew it, the constant drone of air conditioning faded away, replaced by the familiar sound of a crackling fire. When you opened your eyes, you realized that you were in a surprisingly modern living room.

There was a large tv surrounded by a plush couch and a couple beanbags. You noticed a large stone fireplace on another wall that was providing most of the light in the room, other than the glow from the tv and some light seeping in from an adjoining room of course.

Killer was lounging on the couch, playing what looked like a beat 'em up game on the tv. You didn't see Dust or Horror anywhere, but Cross had just finished adding fresh fuel to the fireplace across the room.

Nightmare cleared his non-existent throat, drawing the attention of the two skeletons. "We're back."

Two skulls whipped in your direction and the video game was quickly paused. Cross immediately appeared at your side, his eyelights scanning your face to see if you were alright. His bonebrows furrowed when he noticed that you had been crying and he glanced up at Nightmare.

"i'm guessing it's not good news?" he asked quietly.

Nightmare said nothing, but his expression must have been confirmation enough for the monochromatic skeleton. His tendrils loosened before letting go of you entirely.

"She will be fine for the time being," he started to say. "I have to locate Error and convince him to help. I trust the rest of you can look after her until then?"

Cross looked puzzled for a second, but quickly recovered and nodded. "yes, of course!" he exclaimed, holding out his arms for you.

Rather than immediately hand you over, Nightmare let out a quiet hum. His good eyelight flicked to Killer, who was now leaning over the back of the couch with a surprisingly serious look on his face, then to Cross again before turning his attention to you. He shifted your weight to one arm, gently tracing your face with his now free hand. He seemed to be examining you, committing your facial features to memory. While he said nothing, you noticed that beneath the look of determination, his gaze held a sort of tenderness as well.

He broke the unofficial staring contest to finally place you in Cross' waiting arms. The skeleton shifted you into a position where you were almost perching on his shoulder, but where you had the option to rest your head against his own skull if you wished, which you did.

Killer grinned and winked at you. "don't worry, we'll take good care of her, boss."

Nightmare nodded, "Depending if he is in a good mood, I might be back quickly, but I'm not counting on it." He glanced at you and Cross. "I am sure the others will be glad for the chance to dote on our precious human. I would like to have a word with Killer, so why don't you two go find them?" he asked in a gentle tone of voice that seemed to be more directed at you than the skeleton.

Cross smiled and lightly squeezed you. "c'mon juniper, i think horror was planning to make your favourite kind of cookies earlier." He started to carry you into the adjoining room you had spotted earlier.

You couldn't help but wonder what Nightmare was planning. What had he meant by you being similar to Minty? Why was he blaming himself? Why had you forgotten everything?

"what can error do that the doctor can't?" Killer asked quietly.

Nightmare hesitated for a moment and you strained to hear what he might say next.

"Fix corrupted code..."

[oorangesoda]

I would like to inform you that your Mr Qi and Callum piece now has irreparable brain worms obliterating my brain.

I legitimately think about this piece constantly so I gotta ask what is the lore behind it all? This has me theorising so bad I pulled up a notebook at one 😭

Again, incredible piece, but PLEASE I need piece of mind I can't stay up at night wondering about the lore implications of Mr Qi personally knowing Callum's pop and it's effect on the CSU (Callum Stardew Universe) even a crumb would do.

First of all:

THANK YOU POOKIEEEEEE 💚💚💚💚 it genuinely means a lot that you enjoy it so much, kinda surreal too?? I’d love to know what theories you’ve come up with so far! (also I’m now forever obsessed with the abbreviation CSU thats actually hilarious to me)

I’m gonna be so honest with you though, a lot of the ideas I have surrounding Mr. Qi and his involvement in the valley - more specifically in regards to Callum and his Pop - are very loose and all over the place. I’m kinda working on writing something more cohesive, so if anything I say now doesn’t make sense or gets cut in the future just keep that in mind :’)

In Callums case, if we’re referencing back to my original Qi post, I like to think that in Pop’s midlife - when the farm is well established and he’s still very spry and capable - Pop is approached by Qi during an trip into the lower levels of the mines, and offered a deal. The contents of that deal however aren’t entirely revealed to Pop at the time, and ultimately leads to a series of conflicts between the two (Pop and Qi) and some very traumatic events not caused by Qi directly but as indirect consequences of the deal or poor judgement on Pops part.

Unfortunately for Callum, because of the way things “ended” between his Pop and Qi, he faces the brunt of Qi’s discontentment/dissatisfaction. Although Qi’s involvement in Cals life doesn’t really kick in until about half way through year 2 of being in the valley. But there are little things that begin to reveal themselves to Cal the longer he lives in and explores the valley. Unfortunately x2 it does end up effecting Cal and Shane’s relationship BUUUUUT that’s a convo for another time ;) (<- aka I haven’t fleshed that part out yet)

[cry-stars]

six, seven, and eight! Fandom of your choice!

Thank you for asking! I'll just do this for DR since that's what I'm obsessed with right now :)

6: What ship fans are the most annoying?

It's not too annoying to me, but I don't really enjoy Naegami content where Togami shows like... any traditional romantic interest in Naegi fdjhkfdf... I really enjoy Naegami where Togami grows a slow tolerance and respect and begins to enjoy being in the same room as Naegi. Sort of like a feral cat who slowly begins to tolerate a human coming anywhere near them, but wouldn't allow itself to be pet. Anything beyond that just seems vastly out of character to me, so I don't really reblog a lot of Naegami stuff because a lot of it seems too romantic for me. I guess I just find the fans who create the "ooc" (in my eyes) content annoying by proxy, but I'm glad they're having fun with their ship.

7: which character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts about them?

I don't hate him, but I don't really understand Leon Kuwata's popularity?? he's an interesting guy, but I always see textposts and art and ships with him involved and can never really understand who the character people are talking about is. It feels like they made up their own guy who looks like Leon and is named Leon but is a character that I don't know at all. If anyone's familiar with ace attorney, i felt this way about Clay Terran back in the day, where i just didn't understand his popularity given that he had barely any development or screen time. I guess I don't hate either of them within canon themselves, but I don't understand the popularity.

8: common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Monaca Towa deserves as much sympathy and care as any of the other warriors of hope. She did horrible terrible things, including to the other kids in her group. But she suffered abuse and pain just like all the other kids (who are also all murderers), and she's also just a little kid like all the other WOH. If the remnants of despair can all heal and survive, i think that Monaca and the other WOH can too.

I think it's really fascinating how each kid suffered a different type of abuse and lashes out in a different way. Monaca suffered from ostracization and neglect, as well as possible physical abuse (whatever event caused her family to think she'd become unable to walk), and her way of coping with it was to become manipulative and agreeable/compliant to work behind people's backs, so they wouldn't hurt her directly. Her father hated her until she became smart enough to be "useful," and he offloaded the work of running his company onto her; then she used that trust to get revenge and further her own goals.

It makes sense that she would do the same thing to the WOH. It's her survival tactic. She was even aware that Junko was manipulating her, but played along with it, likely for her own safety as well as genuinely liking Junko. To me, it's all part of her wanting to survive and feel power that she didn't feel before. She makes me as sad as any of the other WOH, but so many people say horrible things about her only. She was the only one booted out of the tumblr found family poll for example (i know it's just a silly poll but just an example of how the other kids get sympathy and she doesn't). In my own post-DR2 canon she gets to come to Jabberwock island along with the other kids and heal along with the remnants. She deserves it as much as any of the others do.

[commsroom]

Hi, you’ve probably already addressed this at some point and I’ve simply missed it, but what’s your thoughts on Hera’s ending? (Particularly, how Pryce just removes the ‘I can’t do this, I’m not good enough’ line, and she stops glitching?) Personally it always felt rather… bad, honestly, given the whole “they could’ve made me better, they made me me” thing, if that makes sense?

hi! first: that absolutely makes sense, and i'm also very sensitive to anything that seems to "fix" disability or trauma, so i understand where you're coming from. that was not personally my takeaway about hera in the finale; i'll try to explain why:

pryce didn't remove that loop from hera's head. i don't think she could have - even if it's technically possible for her to do (and she is capable of a lot more than maxwell), she just had her mind wiped and wouldn't have access to that information, and even if she did retain it on an instinctual level, that would require allowing pryce access to the most vulnerable parts of hera's mind. and she would never allow that. there's a reason pryce is still a prisoner.

hera speaks to pryce not for reconciliation, but for reclamation. she's lived her whole life in fear of what pryce (and people like pryce) can do to her, with every aspect of who she is and what she does controlled and dictated by anyone with power over her. the finale opens with pryce telling her life's story from her perspective - at once self-mythologizing and self-victimizing - and, the final time we ever hear from or about pryce, hera is about to tell her own story. we never find out what was actually said, or how pryce reacted, because it doesn't matter. hera gets to take control of her own narrative. hera gets to confront her abuser, and feel in control and safe from harm.

it's worth keeping in mind that hera doesn't glitch consistently. that's one of the things i think also makes it a useful comparison to chronic illness. when, why, and how much hera glitches was an intentionally crafted part of the sound design. it happens more often, and more intensely, when she's stressed out, overwhelmed, or upset.

and, with that in mind... the ending leaves the characters on a generally positive note, because it's the end of the show and that's the feeling it wants to leave you with: that everything will be more or less okay, in the end. but it isn't the end of their lives. once they get back to earth, a lot of things are going to be very difficult for hera. even in the final scene, she says she's not ready to go back, but "when has that ever stopped us before?" when she's able to honestly say she's good, i don't think that means she's good forever. just, in that moment, that's a crucial step in her healing process, and i hope in the future she'll have a lot more moments that feel like that one.