#that's why ive been so absent here lately

[ennuijpg]

guys i did rly well on my practice mcat today im so relieved, im sooooo close to finally being done with this thing, my test date is at the end of april i cant wait to be done

[rubiesintherough]

.

[psuedosugu]

Ohhhh my golly I saw your Vox x daughter reader an it got me thinking now HEAR ME OUT….what if reader got bored on day an just went for a walk and somehow came across Alastor, now let’s say Alastor’s a lil confused like he never knew Vox had a daughter and readers like *sad sigh* “I’d be surprised if anyone knew” an Alastors all fatherly to her at first it was to get dirt on Vox without reader realizing but in the end he just liked hanging out with her. Eventually Vox noticed how his daughter is gone half the time but reader just convinces her dad that she’s always home and how HES the one always away. Change the ending how you see fit or do whatever you like but UGH I love your writing stay hydrated and eat wellll🩵

assjjjkkj thank youuu the amount of feedback ive gotten on this acc that ive only been posting on for like 3 days is insane, anyways this is such an interesting idea omgee

cw: reader having some emotionally absent daddy issues

fem reader

pt 1 here

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

͙͘͡★ || so you had just gone out on an innocent walk, right?

͙͘͡★ || well, technically snuck out since your dad doesn’t like you going out by yourself.

͙͘͡★ || theres bad people out there! what if you got kidnapped or something?

͙͘͡★ || no one recognizes you, of course, since he doesn’t really talk about you let alone shows you to the public.

͙͘͡★ || you appreciate him for that, you guess, it must be annoying to not be able to go anywhere without a bunch of microphones in your face.

͙͘͡★ || you just wish he was around more! he barely makes any time for you and yeah, his work is super important and time consuming but you’re his daughter!

͙͘͡★ || lost in thought, you bump into a dude in the sidewalk.

͙͘͡★ || “whoops! excuse me, ma’am!”, he says in a weird, static-ish voice.

͙͘͡★ || your skeleton almost jumps out of your skin when you look up.

͙͘͡★ || the radio demon, the guy that your dad has had beef with since you were little

͙͘͡★ || you just stare at him with a “ :o “ look on your face, not knowing if you should run or not.

“little girl, are you, um, alright?” he stares down at you, slightly confused.

“im…uhhh…im okay!”

“you’ve heard of me, i suppose.”

“i guess…. my dad doesn’t really like you.”

“and who might your father be, hm?”

“yk the tv dude? the one thats, like, everywhere? yeah, that him.”

“hmm…interesting…i wasn’t aware he had a daughter…”

“well, he doesn’t really talk about…..”

͙͘͡★ || at this point you stop blabbing mid sentence, realizing you probably shouldn’t have said all of that to his sworn enemy.

͙͘͡★ || what if he does kidnap you and holds you for ransom?

͙͘͡★ || but he doesn’t do that, surprisingly.

͙͘͡★ || he asks you why you’re out alone so late and you shrug, saying that your dad wasn’t really there to stop you.

͙͘͡★ || you were naive and alastor was planning to use that to his advantage, not to hurt you, but to hurt vox.

͙͘͡★ || what would he think when he found out that his own daughter was buddy-buddy with his sworn enemy?

͙͘͡★ || he’d feel like a failure of a father, and thats what alastor wanted, to get under his skin.

͙͘͡★ || you guys walked while you told him everything, about him being away all the time, about you feeling lonely, while he nodded along

͙͘͡★ || you guys even stopped at one of those old timey bar places and bought you a milkshake!

͙͘͡★ || eventually you headed home, your dad hadn’t noticed you had been gone which figures.

͙͘͡★ || this became routine, you hung out with alastor and he gave you advice and stuff. you thought that if he had an ulterior motive it would’ve shown itself by now but no, it hadn’t.

͙͘͡★ || alastor himself had started to forget why he had even started all of this. he found himself enjoying your company and actually caring about you.

͙͘͡★ || after a while vox started to notice that he’s been seeing you less than he usually does.

͙͘͡★ || i mean, the tower is big but cmon! there were days where he would barely see you at all! where were you going?

͙͘͡★ || he confronted you about it at dinner one day.

“[name], dearest, i cant help but notice that i haven’t been seeing you around much lately. what’ve you been up to?”

͙͘͡★ || you pause, looking up from your food.

“i, um, dont know what you’re talking about.”

͙͘͡★ || he furrows his (virtual) eyebrows.

“is that so?”

“mhm!”

͙͘͡★ || vox is reasonably skeptical and resorts to spying on you through your smartwatch because of course you have a voxtech branded smartwatch!

͙͘͡★ || hes absolutely livid when he finds out who you’ve been sneaking out to be with and he’s waiting for you when you get home.

͙͘͡★ || you’re indefinitely grounded until he says so and he starts tracking where you go in the tower.

͙͘͡★ || he knows that its a violation of privacy and stuff but dont you see that he’s trying to protect you? alastor is dangerous! he doesn’t get how you didn’t see it earlier.

͙͘͡★ || alastor does succeed on what he set out to do, though. vox is distraught, feeling like a horrible father. he even vents to valentino about it out of all the people!

“-i mean, what kind of father doesn’t even notice their own child sneaking out in broad daylight every day? i should’ve paid more attention to her, im a failure!”

“mhm….yeah….”

͙͘͡★ || val obviously doesn’t give a shit.

͙͘͡★ || after not bumping into you for a while and seeing the up in vox slandering him online, alastor figures what happened.

͙͘͡★ || he’s glad that he succeeded in his mission to bother vox further but does miss talking to you.

͙͘͡★ || vox does vow to make more time for you and be a more attentive dad, so i guess some good comes out of this.

ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

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[perlelune]

Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | iv.

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: NON-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A smile blooms on your lips as you watch Tilly play hopscotch with her friend near the street. Snow’s melted enough this morning to be able to draw chalk patterns on the cobblestones. The young girl woke up excited to enjoy the day. And while you’re nowhere as thrilled, seeing the joy and life return to her gaze is more than enough for you. 

The little girls’ buoyant laughs fill the street and you let yourself bask in the moment. It’s rare that you get time to yourself lately.  Your shifts at the factory take up most of your time. And you’ve been spreading yourself thin, hoping to keep concerns at bay by remaining busy. White wisps surround you as you blow a long breath. You readjust your scarf and rub your gloved hands. Cold air seeps through the tiny holes in your gloves. You’ll need to stay after hours on your next shift to mend them. Perhaps you could even purloin enough throwaway remnants of wool to make Tilly a new pair. She’ll soon outgrow hers.

Besides, her health might have improved for now, but you never stop worrying about her catching another cold, one that might be deadlier than the last.

Lost in contemplation, you draw a sharp breath when an object drops from the sky onto your lap. Your eyes widen as you lower them. A pair of knitted gloves rests in your lap. They’re clearly brand new and the wool quality is unlike anything you’ve ever laid eyes on. You can tell from the thickness and vibrancy of the twining threads. You’re tempted to give it a brush with your fingertips, revel in the warmth oozing from the fabric. But you refrain.

“I don’t want that,” you snap, whipping your head up.

A towering, lanky frame clad in the peacekeeper’s signature blue uniform fills your sight. 

You toss the gloves at him and he catches them with a deep sigh. He sits near you on the steps. The hairs on the back of your neck bristle with his proximity, his broad shoulder grazing yours as he turns to study you.

You shiver as his gaze runs along your frame. You don’t look at him. You don’t want to. You’ve done your best to forget about him these last few weeks, even if his ever-lurking presence is hard to ignore. Whatever you do, wherever you are, he’s never hovering too far away.

He seizes your hands, forcefully slipping the gloves on your frostbitten fingers.

“Come on, you’re freezing,” he says. Your lips tighten as you meekly comply. Arguing with the peacekeeper has never worked in your favor. So why even try? You let him put the gloves on you, cursing the comfort you feel when the warm fabric hugs your fingers. An absent thought drifts in your head as you admire the wool. You never owned anything this nice. The quality evokes the clothes that usually head straight to the Capitol.

All the nice things go to them first while District dwellers beg for scraps.

Coriolanus leans back, his large hands spreading over his knees. His stance is far too relaxed for your taste and you shrink further on your side of the narrow stairs. 

As his icy blue orbs settle on your cousin and her friend, you tense.

“She seems to be doing well. I’m assuming the medicine helped,” he notes, smugness oozing from his words. His attention scorches your skin as you pointedly evade his stare. You loathe the satisfaction he draws from this. More leverage to use against you. More opportunities to make you feel small, helpless.

“What are you doing here?” you curtly ask.

His small chuckle makes your stomach coil.

“Is this any way to greet a friend?” His tone becomes light, playful. “Especially one that comes bearing gifts?” 

Your brows knit. “Friends…”

Hot air tickles your earshell as he bends over you, whispering, “The closest of friends.”

Your heart skips a beat.

He grabs your chin, angling your face towards his. A shuddered breath leaves your lips as stark blue eyes drink you in. “Really birdie, not even a smile? Come now.”

You nudge a tremulous smile onto your lips. 

His thumb grazes your trembling bottom lip as his mouth twists skyward. “Better,’ he praises quietly.

A winning glint sways in his eyes and your stomach lurches. 

“Hi!”

Tilly’s cheerful voice shatters the moment. Coriolanus releases you and relief billows inside your chest. 

He beams at the young girl, replying in a similar tone, “Hi.”

Your young cousin bounces on her feet, excitement rounding her gaze as she admires  the peacekeeper. Your frown deepens at the exchange.

“I’m Tilly,” she announces solemnly, offering her hand to shake.

Coriolanus laughs as he takes it, mirth lighting up his handsome face.

“I know. I know all about you.” A mix of shock and awe decorates the young girl’s features with that information, as if the peacekeeper knowing anything about her was the most extraordinary thing in the world. “I’m a friend of your cousin. My name’s Coriolanus.”

“Coriolanus,” she repeats, as if mesmerized by the sound of his name alone.

“Here. I have something for you,” he says. 

He reaches inside the pocket of his uniform and pulls out a bag. Your cousin jumps, her eyes sparkling with joy when he hands it to her.

“Candy!” she exclaims. 

Your face pinches at the sight of the colorful sweets in the bag. These aren’t easy to acquire. 

“Tilly…”

“What?”

The young girl’s expression is dejected as she looks at you, almost like she can sense your disapproval and is preparing to return the gift. Your shoulder sag. You don’t have it in you to refuse her this small sliver of delight. 

You shake your head and smile.

“Nothing.” You hunker in front of her. “We should go back inside.”

“But I want to play…” she pouts.

“You have chores. And Coriolanus…” Your eyes lift to him. Amusement hasn’t left his expression. “is very busy.”

He doesn’t say anything as you shove your cousin inside the house. He lingers by the door and you fidget beneath his heavy stare.

“I’m guessing you have…somewhere to be.”

His gaze drags over you as a small smile dances on his lips.

“Yes, I hear I’m very busy,” he teases. Shock fills you when he leans to brush his mouth against your cool cheek. “See you soon, birdie,” he mumbles, his deep voice making your stomach flutter.

You’re relieved when he finally leaves. You chase away the peculiar sensation his closeness sparked as you shut the door.

You don’t get time to collect yourself,  your little cousin immediately asking, “Is he your boyfriend?”

The pitch of your voice goes high with shock. 

“What? Are you crazy?”

Tilly frowns. “But I saw him kissing you.”

Heat nestles in your cheeks. Maybe from an outsider’s perspective, Coriolanus’ closeness could be misinterpreted, the peacekeeper perpetually crowding your space despite your reluctance. Still, you can’t believe it’s what the little girl thinks from looking at the two of you. 

It couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Every fiber of your being burns with hatred for him.

“No, we weren’t. It wasn’t…” you sputter, your embarrassment cresting as the excitement in your cousin’s eyes doesn’t dwindle. “He wasn’t kissing me. We were just talking.”

“About girlfriend and boyfriend stuff,” she insists. 

You sigh. You approach her and grip her shoulders. 

“Tilly, I need you to promise me something.”

She blinks up at you. “Yes?”

You crouch before her so you’re at eye level. 

“You need to stay away from peacekeepers.”

She purses her mouth, glancing down at the bag of candy.

“Yes, but Coriolanus…he was nice to me.”

Your stomach sinks.

“Well, Coriolanus isn’t like the others.”

She nods in understanding. You’re glad she doesn’t ask any further questions. You wouldn’t know how to begin to explain your relationship with him.

Not in any way that makes sense at least.

For a fortnight, you don’t see much of him. You bask in the tranquility of your usual routine, going back and forth, from home to work, and preparing to celebrate the end of the year with your cousin. It won’t be lavish, of course, but you’re hoping to save up enough from your wages to get Tilly a teddy and perhaps even a toy this year.

While most of your family has passed away, you want to cherish the things you still have. Perhaps you can even create new memories for your cousin, happier memories. She has been bedridden for months now and it’ll be the first holiday she’ll get to truly enjoy as a healthy, normal child. 

He appears again as you’re working your usual shift, casually switching places with another guard. While you pointedly avoid looking in his direction, you feel the weight of his unwavering eyes, watching you as always.

Still, you diligently weave the silk on your loom. Your attention cannot stray. One mistake and the fabric will be ruined. 

“Your shadow’s there,” Yara notes from her station right next to yours.

Your eyes flick upward briefly as you nod.

“Yeah.”

Silence hangs in the air a while before your friend speaks again.

“It doesn’t seem to bother you that much.”

You shrug. “I’m getting used to it.”

Her eyes land on the gloves peeking from the pocket of your long skirt.

“By the way, I meant to ask…Is that from him?”

You hesitate a little before begrudgingly admitting, “Yes.”

She moves her head in acknowledgement. 

“I see, gifts now.”

Stepping on the treadle to slow down the motion of your loom, you snap your head to Yara.

There was something in her tone just then, an implication you didn’t like.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She shakes her head and scoffs, “It’s just interesting, is all.”

“My hands were cold,” you defend.

“You could have thrown them away. I made my own. It’s what we do every year. Make our own.” Her gaze locks with yours. Licking her lips, she seems to mull over something before she asks,  “Is there something going on between you two? I mean other than what I already know.”

Your face grows hot.

“There is nothing.”

She studies you for a few minutes before turning her focus back to her loom.

“Right,” she says.

Your annoyance mounting, you give the treadle a vigorous push and start weaving faster.

You let your friend’s prickly comments fade somewhere in the back of your mind. You have no desire to explore this dangerous line of thought any further. 

There is indeed nothing going on between you and the peacekeeper. You keep repeating it to yourself as your fingers assemble the threads as if your life depended on it. 

It helps you ignore the way your blood races in your veins.

Relief fills you when your shift ends. Tension built in your body and firmly remained since Yara began questioning you. You can still feel it in the stiffness in your limbs, the heaviness in your chest. You make haste as you dart across the hallways, eager to return home.

Your escape is halted by a pair of strong arms pulling you in a dark corner of the factory. 

You look up at him through wide eyes. That teasing smile you’ve grown all too familiar with decorates his lips.

“Why the rush, sweet bird?”

“Coriolanus…” You step back from him. “Can’t you just leave me be, just once?”

He approaches you, forcing you to shrink against the wall. He cages you, his hands on each side of you as he drinks you in. You dip your head, overwhelmed with the scent of roses washing over you. 

“I can’t actually.” Warmth swirls in your belly as his tone lowers. “Look at me.” He puts two fingers below your chin to angle it upward. His eyes narrow. “You’re upset.”

“Just had a long day,” you elude with a shrug. 

He scrutinizes you. Your mouth quakes, his silence unnerving you. 

After some time, he finally announces, “I’m getting discharged soon.”

“Oh, where?”

“I’m getting sent back to the Capitol.”

You gape at him. That’s not what you expected to hear. Though you surmise it makes sense, with him being around less. A strange mix of feelings surges inside your chest. But mostly, relief, freedom. You’ll be able to breathe properly again, without the uneasy attention of the peacekeeper tailing you everywhere you go. 

Though you try not to let your emotions show. You give a tilted smile.

“Isn’t that a good thing? You get to go home, return to your life.”

His knuckles sweep over the apple of your cheek. 

“Well…I’ll miss some things about District 8.”

You clear your throat. “I should get back home.”

“Meet me tonight,” he says bluntly. 

“What for?”

His eyes darken, running over your trembling frame. His thumb skims over your bottom lip.

“I’m leaving. We should celebrate, just the two of us.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You truly hoped to avoid…colliding with the peacekeeper again, in any way, but you suppose it was inevitable. One way or another, he’d have asked for more of you, simply because he could. Your fate is in his hands after all. He could easily make your life here hell just by whispering in the right ears.

Still, you can’t help voicing a feeble protest.

“Is that necessary?”

His eyes flare with danger. Your breath snags as he grips your jaw, his fingers digging painfully into your cheeks. Your pulse thrums beneath his palm.

“I don’t want to be mean to you right now, so don’t make me.” Though his tone is soft, his expression is harsh and inflexible. “Just do as I say.”

You give a shaky nod.

“S-See you tonight.”

He releases your face and you take a deep breath. His crooked smile is wide and victorious as he hops away from you.

“I look forward to it, sweet bird.”

You put a hand on your chest as he disappears, willing your thundering heart to slow down. You find comfort in a single thought. At least, after tonight, you will finally be rid of the peacekeeper.

[xxxg0ryygurlll13xxx]

ive been feeling weird lately like really weird. i think somethings wrong with me?

out of place? off? out of it? im not sure how to describe it. i feel kind of like the world is moving but im not. like im just stuck watching days go by just getting by and doing things. just kind of there. like a background character in my life? if that makes sense. not quite anxious but not calm either. not quite depressed but not good either. just here. routine. like almost like im pretending something. that something isnt quite right with me. like somehow im different in a bad way. i dont mean that in a "im not like other girls" way or a "i dont think im human" way but in a "theres something off with me" way. im well aware theres things wrong with me though, im supposed to be taking meds for them, but this is a different kind of wrong. like i said not quite anxious but not calm either. lately people seem to be getting things before i do, jokes, answers to questions, even just regularly speaking i feel like im slow in responding. i feel stupid about it too because people seem to think im stupid for not getting things soon enough. its almost like im not processing it. my friend today had to remind me that the play we saw today wasnt gonna start at noon cause we got there at 10ish and that shakespere is usually 5 acts and like 3-4 hours long when played out. i know these things. i saw the schedule, ive read romeo and juliet and other shakespere works. my boyfriend has had to remind me of simple things too. i find myself saying things like "oh right.." more often. is this what absent mindedness is? im forgetful too, i always have been but lately even more so. forgetting assignments, dates, times, names, etc. its almost like i havent been thinking. like my brain has been emptied. i feel stupid but im not sure what i can do about this. its bothering me. i feel almost robotic? the opposite of emotional. just sort of flowing through things. not really being in the moment im in. does that make sense? does any of this make sense? does this even sound like anything? anyone know how to help? i wanna be fixed. ive been thinking too how hard its been for me to keep friends in high school. im not sure why but most people have seemed to drift from me after a bit. i was good at being social and making friends as a kid i had the same best friends since kindergarten till 8th grade (i still have mt best friend from 2nd grade and i was friends w my now bf in middle school) but since ive gotten to high school i cant seem to keep friends. something is definitely wrong with me

[insufferable-talkstuck]

(HELPP sorry bro gonna ask this blog instead mb 💀😭)

helloo can u classpect me pls (idk heo to do this 🔥) including a little bit of vent for the sake of classpects

basically i am reclusive, secretive, spacey, knowledgeable but not in an arrogant way, creative, pretty absent minded, and very awkward :]

my main interests include TMNT, MBTI, experimental music, psychology, and marine life. (probably says nothing)

i also like drawing but sometimes i get mad jealous over other ppls art

i also have a strong interest in leftism, anti-racism and anti-capitalism. idk what that says tho

i can get RLY obsessive about my interests and i will NOT shut up about whatever im hyperfixating on

i find it extremely difficult to grasp social cues, in other words i am socially inept

i can have a lot of trouble with empathy usually, not saying i have no empathy tho

no social life. 0. not even one (1) friend. offline or online.

if i had a social group tho i think id be the weird one who is very awkward and does not get jokes 😭

i like to consider both logic and emotions when making a decision, but i tend to value logic and rationality more sometimes

i have a tendency to stay up really late, like really late (it is 5 am as i am writing this

(idk of the text below counts as a vent or not but read idk)

ive always been really bad at explaining, wording, or identifying my own emotions, idk why but its just really hard to come up with words that can accurately describe how i feel, which is why im shit at venting

nvm i think im just bad at wording my own thoughts in general, it makes me feel kind of dumb, im just as bad at that on text too 😭😭 communicating is hell

(vent-ish thing is over)

supernatural stuff is pretty cool too idk

ive been told im dry and very monotonous in person 💀 like a robot n shit

i also dont like being wrong but not in an arrogant know-it-all asshole kinda way ❤

idk what else to put here.

Seer of Void

I'm not picking up any sign that you would *want* to be assigned a void player but I don't tell people what they want to hear.

- dissection -

‘ basically — :] ’ in this paragraph you list off some traits that could easily be associated with void

‘ i can RLY — tho ’ classpects aren't political stances and tho some classes and aspects are described as more devoted or revolutionary it doesn't specifically tilt it towards any view on these things. go girl give us nothing

‘ i find it — jokes ’ you're listing traits of autism, not something that could help me classpect you. However in all technicality "lacking" so many things can be written off as void

‘ i like to consider — on text too ’ okay, Dirk strider moment I guess, if you had only left this paragraph i would have given you prince of heart and left it at that

- dissection over -

why I think you're a seer of void

seers struggle to grasp their aspect at first, how it works and how they could relate to it escapes them, but once they learn it they're comfortable in it. you talk like youre rampaging to find fragments of a personality, sloppily putting paragraphs about yourself together, but if you were to take a step back and relax I think you'd be relieved and find comfort in the nothingness, and along with it the unlimited potential you'll master but.. baby steps

bonus round

i think there would be a destructive heart player and/or a mind player in your session, you seem torn between the two, I don't see this talked about amongst the classpecting population but I do think the aspects of the players in your session would affect you. with all my evidence of that coming from the kids and trolls sessions I mean the bond is just so clear

[thewildsorcerer]

“Go. Sleep. That’s not a request.”

exhaustion sentence starters

Caspian was no stranger to late nights. When Castor went missing, he'd stay up late each night either plagued by that one event causing this or being buried in books from libraries to figure out anything he could use to save him. Being in the borderlands was no different. Except they stayed up either to sketch or write in his journal.. or just because he couldn't sleep. Thankfully their glamour made him seem like they were always well rested-- instead of their usual dark eye bags under his eyes. Tonight was a night of sketching. Something he did because it kept their mind off things. Absently doodling away, it seemed to be wanting to draw a certain someone. His cheeks went red and he threw it aside but still out in the open, and started sketching again. Shit. Maybe he should go get some more coffee. Caspian sighed softly and they stood up from their desk, and headed for the door. But he paused, eyes flickering to the bottom of the door as he saw a shadow. Who was here? Why where they just standing here? They slowly walked up to the door and opened it, pausing as they saw Ryu in front of him. "Huh-? Ryu, what are you.."

"What are you doing up?" He asked, and Caspian kept a hand on the edge of the door. Huh? Why did he need to know that? Caspian's mentioned before that he usually doesn't sleep much. "Why are you up?" they shot back, before turning around and going back inside his room. Ryu followed after them and shut the door behind, telling Caspian that he was here to check on him and that his hunch was right. "I don't need to sleep right now.. Ive just been--" They started to protest but it was no use. "Go. Sleep. That's not a request."

Caspian paused for a moment, but they just sighed softly. As much as they wanted to fight and protest it.. it was nice to have someone care enough to make him go to sleep. So he grumbled, "Fine.. then why don't you stay over? You already know what I look like anyways, and my spell needs to recharge." Caspian muttered as he took off his coat and put it on the chair. Muttering a few words- the spell fell off and he sighed softly-- moving to fall face first onto the pillow. He turned his head to the side only slightly so his yellow eyes peeked out to look at Ryu "Well?" He asked, voice muffled a little bit, "You gonna join me or what?"

[chivjrennugts]

ive been waiting to write again until i felt something come to me. i didnt wanna force it. but i guess its here now.

i often wondered why i have such a need, desperation even of love from an outside source. I have a house over my head right? i have food to eat, clothes to wear, i get gifts for my birthday, i get gifts for christmas. in theory, i have it all. besides the childhood trauma my parents like to deny they inflicted on me, im not here to talk about that.

my issue here is that, i never really feel heard. you never listen to me. you hear me, but you dont listen. i've felt like this my whole entire life, i wonder why am i always so quiet and introverted even THOUGH i loveee love love talking to new people, meeting new people, and sharing the things i have on my mind.

Its cause i feel like no matter what i say no one is listening to me. i even feel this sometimes with my own friends if im being honest. and honestly if i could sum up love my biggest things would be

your ability to listen to someone, understand them, and reflect what you learned throughout the relationship. This alone is so special and an ability most people dont even care to have. But to truly love someone you have to know them. and not just know their first name and last name, or what color their eyes is.

knowing someone is much deeper than that. knowing someone is taking the small details they reveal about themselves, trying to understand it, and using what you learned to show your love.

i'd give an example but, i just know the times im shocked the most, the times that honestly make a girl like me wanna cry, is when i told someone something a while ago, and they bring it up.

its the most shocking thing to me because i feel like people forget what i say all the time. im always like "whatt??!!!! you remembered that omg" like it honestly baffles me.

and honestly a lack of being listened to or understood in my household probably took/ is taking a big chunk of my self esteem away. because its so much more than not being heard.

it makes you feel unimportant, less than. it makes you feel like no matter what you do your best option is to just make yourself as small as possible because no matter what no one will ever see you. they will never listen to you so you might as well box yourself away and pretend that you have nothing in your brain, that is in fact thinking 100 million thoughts per hour.

when i write these things, it helps me to understand myself a lot more and why i am the way i am, and i know, im truly guilty of this. I've been a bad listener, ive been absent minded in love. i have. and i known its something i should fix if i recognize that.

also, another thing that ive been thinking about lately is how at this point we're just too old to know the root of some of our issues and not be able to at least TRY to fix it.

being like "im bwad a cwomunication cause my mwommy and dwaddy nevew heafily communicated🥺" its like, i dont feel bad for you anymore because if you know youre not just CURSED with being bad communicator, and its just trauma blocking it, its childish to even let that hold you back.

i hate when my friends do this because now its like you're doing the shit on purpose especially if im your friend and you're gonna be like thart with me i feel like we're wayyy beyond that point and now ur annoying.

[sockori]

folks 🧦

your local transgender puppet man stan is in need of funds to move out of their home by the end of the year...... commissions are open with 10 slots to spare. see what i offer here: https://ravenart.carrd.co/

[itsxcowboyrocksteady]

I would block this shit so fast...

My favorite genre is people who don't get that they're not the only one whose comfort character is whoever. Or that other people crush on the characters they crush on.

Now after reading this my second favorite is people who honestly believe they can just take someone else's creation because they don't like the content of whatever the story or RP or whatever the character is a part of.

If that's the case, then there are loads of characters from TV and books and movies and games that I now claim as my own because they deserved better and their stories make me upset or trigger me. Because, hey, they're also someone's OC's. The fact that they're in pop culture doesn't change that.

So proud to announce that Philip Ojomo is my character now (/s)! Because his story breaks my heart and I want him to be happy so bad.

David King? Also mine now (/s)! Because my dad sucks and is abusive and I find that shit triggering AF (the part that he's mine is a joke, but the part where I relate to him and get real fucked up about his shitty dad sure as hell isn't).

Dwight Fairfield is my comfort character and I also call him my husband, so everyone else on here that says that is being insensitive and you need to stop. /s

Unfollow, block, and move on. You don't get to just claim shit because you don't like the story. Or because something is your favorite.

🙄

And I get feeling incredibly attached to characters and stuff. I actually even get having a knee-jerk reaction about some of this stuff, especially if you're neurodivergent in some way. But the entitlement it takes to message someone about this stuff????

(I added the /s next to those bc even tho I think it's obvious I'm being sarcastic, some people have a difficult time with tone and tone is even harder through text, so I want them to know it's not serious ❤️. Also I'm sorry if this was really salty I'm just... WTF?!)

not submission. I really hate the "My OC, my rules" thing. Cause like, no? Just because they are your oc doesn't mean you can do whatever you want with them. If you want to make your oc suffer and not like them get help, you deserve to lose rights over them. Especially if you only do that stuff to purposely trigger people. Once you do that, your oc no longer belongs to you. they belong to the public who will take better care of them instead

Making a comment to get this to post.

[gukyi]

guess who just replotted all of a heart full of love! that’s right it’s me !!!

i’m really sorry for all of this nonsense delay. i mentioned before that i just haven’t been feeling too inspired lately and it’s taken a toll on my writing habits. but hopefully this renovated plot will get me a bit more inspired to write the damn thing. i know i said it’d be out on friday and then i said saturday and now it’s nearly sunday and i’ve barely written anything. so. 

all in all, i’m sorry for postponing this thing. it was meant for a friend’s birthday but that ship has sailed and i just feel super terrible about it tbh. i will hopefully get to working on it more in the coming days and i would really like to have it out by next weekend if possible. 

on a side note, i’ve got an interview tomorrow morning! wish me luck.

[creampill]

OK SO ik youve been getting sova asks lately but if you can, and it can be a rlly short fic, but imagine being sova's eye doctor/prosthetic checker engineerer thingy and thinking somethings wrong with the prosthetic when it dilates but its only bc he thinks ur attractive and brain chemicals go wheee to his eyes AHSVAVVAV

sorry if i sound so aggressive ive been having brainrots of our beloved archer ahsgavsga

ohhggghggh you guys always have such DELICIOUS ideas UUAAG

Sova/Reader - Check-Up

Something was wrong with Sova’s eye.

What exactly was wrong still remained to be seen, but you knew a malfunction when you saw one.

Because that’s what it was, right? You’d been a prosthetist for years upon years, gone to medical school and gotten your degree all fancy-like. You were a doctor, a scientist, a professional.

You had to push your feelings about him aside. God forbid your silly little crush got in the way of a proper diagnosis.

“Alright, Sova, how have things been with the eye?”

He was sat in front of you on the edge of your office’s cot as you stood with a little torch to examine his prosthetic. Even though he was seated, he was taller than you, and you were close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him and the little breaths he took from his nose.

“They’ve been well.” He replied.

Sova wasn’t in your office today of his own volition. It was his co-workers, supposedly, that had urged him to see you about a ‘malfunction’ of his ocular implant.

“I think it’s been bugging out?” one of them had said, Raze, you think her name was, “the middle bit will get all big randomly, and when we ask, he doesn’t know why.”

So here you were, almost chest-to-chest with him as you tried to figure out what was wrong.

You let out a little ‘hm’, “nothing’s been aching? No sight issues or glitches?”

“No. It’s been working quite well.”

With a little huff, you turned to your notes. Sova’s prosthetic was one much more advanced than any of the previous you’d worked on- it didn’t just fully restore his sight, it enhanced it, as well as additional recoding capabilities and connection to external devices. It was truly a marvel of engineering.

Your eyes skimmed the pages in your folder with a little furrow in your brow. Pupil control, sphincter augmentation, light feedback, a lot of words, but your previous scans hadn’t noticed anything off with any of those functions. They all were working as intended, running at top condition.

Sova shuffled slightly, hands folding over one another.

“Have any changes occurred recently?” You asked, turning back to him, “any new people in your life or something stressing you?”

This time, when he replied, it was delayed. Only by a fraction, but you caught it. “No.”

With a little tut, you stood closer to him, “Sova. You can tell me if something’s wrong, y’know. Your brain chemistry can affect the function of your eye.”

That was the truth: it wasn’t just attached to his socket. To facilitate the additional capabilities that came with his prosthetic, the circuitry reached into his brain, meaning that changes of environment or emotional spikes could cause errors.

You turned on your torch and cupped his face to get a better angle, mumbling absent-mindedly, “I’m not just your doctor, Sasha. I care about you.”

With that better angle, you got the best view of his pupil as it blew wide from your touch.

Like dropping ink into water, it started a chain reaction in him. You felt his stubble press into your hand as he leant into it and his eyelids shut ever-so-slightly and he let out a quiet little sigh that you could feel against your head and, in that moment, it clicked.

Oh.

“Oh.”

You… might have a diagnosis, actually.

One that made that silly little crush of yours all that stronger.

[tteokggukk]

summer heat → jjk

–pairing: twin!jungkook x reader

–genre: fluff, mature (? but no smut), drabble, a minor attempt at humor, best friend’s twin brother type of thing

–words: 2.9k

–warnings: explicit language, sexual tension, tiny bit of humiliation, a hint of jungkook and reader having some sort of “history” if u squint hard enough

–summary: in an attempt to calm you down and prevent your mood from swinging due to the blazing heat, your best friend decides to go out and buy you some ice cream. you’re shocked, however, when he quickly returns and looks different, making you see him in an entirely new light and leaving you trying to resist the urge to give in to your raging hormones and just jump on him.

–a/n: i was thinking of this scenario in the shower but didn’t have the brain power to turn it into a full length story so i might just add this to a pile of drabbles that i may or may not develop heh + ive been in my jungkook feels too lately sigh + also this is unedited 

permanent taglist: @100percent-dum-dum  @mochisjoon​ @boraength @rageyoudamnednerd​ 

It was a scorching hot summer’s day. Sweat was beginning to trickle down your temples and your shirt was getting stuck to your skin, causing an irking feeling of discomfort. Looking around, you quickly grabbed an empty long folder from your best friend’s messy desk and began fanning yourself to cool down. The two of you were just there, sitting in his room in a not-so-comfortable silence.

You were currently plopped down onto a chair with your legs resting on the desk in front of you, too lazy to come up with ideas to kill your boredom.

It was a tradition for your family to travel every summer and visit a new country you hadn’t been to, but this year you had to pass the plane tickets and sight-seeing due to your best friend, Junghan, asking begging you to help him out with a month-long film project. You didn’t have the heart to decline, so you told your parents you’d stay behind and help him out which resulted in you having to stay over at Junghan’s place for the rest of the summer.

You had to admit though, a small part of you felt disinclined to stay because the project sounded like it would’ve been a tedious workload, but working with your best friend was so much more fun than you’d imagined and even the project itself turned out to be enjoyable. So far, your summer break has been spent filming and hanging out with Junghan—though hanging out usually meant staying in his room and watching romcoms all day while crying over fictional characters, ranting about how you two would never meet such perfect men in real life. It was great.

Until the air conditioner broke down.

You glanced over at Junghan, who seemed to be just as spiritless as you were while he sat in front of a fan, eyes looking empty and distant.

“I told you the air conditioner needed to be fixed,” You sighed and looked up at the ceiling, completely missing the harsh glare he sent you.

“I said I was gonna get it fixed,” He replies and turns back to the fan, his voice quieting down a little, “But the number for repair wouldn’t answer.”

“Right,” You muttered absent-mindedly, eyes staring at the ceiling while your mind was too busy trying to come up with suggestions to beat the heat, “We could go to the pool?”

“Closed,” Junghan grunts, “The mall?”

“As if we’d both drive in this state,” You rolled your eyes as you tried to get your shirt to stop sticking to your skin. Junghan glances over at you when he hears you grumbling, one of the many cues that you were beginning to feel peevish. Deciding that it was pointless to keep tugging on your shirt, you opt to take it off instead.

“You don’t mind do you?” You asked before completely removing your shirt, only leaving you in your bralette. Though you knew he never did because of the countless times he’s helped you change and pick out different outfits, you always asked out of politeness. Additionally, his zero interest in women made you feel much safer and comfortable enough to undress around him.

“I really don’t care,” He says and stands up. You hear him rumbling for a moment while you were neatly folding your shirt, and seconds later you recognize the jingling sound of keys.

“Where are you going?” You asked.

“The nearby grocery. You’re about to get grumpy and I am not going to listen to a rambling bitch for the rest of the day,” He says, rubbing his temples as he makes his way to the door.

“So you’re just gonna leave me here?” You asked, too exhausted to even glance at him. He probably wasn’t, you only asked for the dramatic effect.

“No, dumbass. I’m just gonna go and buy ice cream. See you in a bit.”

And with that Junghan leaves and closes the door shut. Only a few minutes later after the sound of the engine had gone did you decide to exert a little effort and move over to his previous spot to sit in front of the fan, the air immediately cooling your skin. You sighed in relief and grabbed a few tissues to wipe your temples dry before grabbing your phone and texting Junghan to buy some lemonade, followed by a second text telling him you’d pay him back once he returned.

You were surprised to hear, not even ten minutes later, that the car was already back and pulling up in the driveway. It couldn’t have been Junghan’s parents as they were out working, and it was only you and Junghan around—not like you two had many friends who would come and visit. Instead of rationalizing with yourself on how Junghan came back home in supersonic speed, you decide to drop it and wait for him to come up back to his room.

Someone knocks on the door, causing your brows to furrow in confusion. Since when did Junghan knock?

“Come... in?” You answer, though it came out more as a question. Your head turns at the sound of the door opening, and your eyes widen at seeing Junghan standing by the doorframe.

Looking oddly different.

“Dude,” You stood up from your place and stared him up and down, “Is that what you were really wearing when you went out?”

His eyebrows raise in shock and you catch his eyes taking a quick glimpse from your chest before quickly looking back at the perplexed look on your face, a small smirk forming on lips. You decide to ignore it.

“What a warm ‘welcome home’,” he chuckles.

“You didn’t answer me,” you replied, still oblivious to the difference in his tone.

He was wearing an all-black ensemble—a black cap, a black leather jacket, black pants that outlined his toned thighs (how have you never noticed?), and some chunky black boots—a huge contrast to his normally colorful and baggy clothing. You were genuinely curious because you hadn’t noticed what he looked like before he left the house as you were too tired and lazy to even look up and say goodbye.

“Uh, yeah. This is what I was wearing?” He narrows one of his eyes, looking confused, “Why?”

“I don’t know… since when did you wear all black?”

“Since way back then? I don’t know,” He replies, and you now noticed how his voice was unusually low. Junghan steps inside and averts his eyes from you, looking around in his room before scrimmaging through drawers as if in search for something.

“What are you looking for?” You asked, folding your arms and following him around.

“A charger,” He replies, and a chill runs down your spine at the sound of his voice. You thought maybe you’d detect how he was just trying to change his manner of speaking, but it was effortlessly low; like he wasn’t faking it or anything. It was weird because Junghan normally sounded a little more high pitched. 

“What charger?”

“A laptop charger, mine broke,” He continues searching and not once does he meet your eyes.

“Oh okay, let me help you then,” You begin to look around and help him search, “Though I don’t know what it looks like, I’ll let you know if I see a charger.”

He looks up at you and smiles, but you don’t catch him watching you as you were already busy searching, “Thanks.”

The two of you continue searching in silence, though occasionally you’d look up and glance at Junghan. What exactly was he doing? Was this for his film? Is he supposed to be in character? This new look and manner of talking that he somehow adopted after a quick trip to the grocery store did things to you. Every time he grunted in annoyance after a failed search, something in your stomach would twist and you found yourself suddenly feeling drawn, or maybe even more than drawn, to your best friend. Your gay best friend.

You shook your head to get rid of those thoughts.

Only a few minutes later did you find something that looked like a charger hiding underneath a pile of unfolded clothes before presenting it to Junghan, “Is it this?”

“Yes! Exactly that,” He jumps up from crouching over one of the drawers at the bedside and walks over to you, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, sure. I don’t know why you took such a long time searching for something in your room, though,” You rolled your eyes.

“My room?” He smiles, voice a little deeper but with a hint of amusement.

God, you could just jump on him right now.

“Yeah?” You knit your brows, “And stop doing that!”

“Stop doing what?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed so he was looking up at you. He leans back a bit a folds his arms, a smile still tugging on the corner of his mouth.

Maybe it was the summer heat doing things to your head and making you think about all these things that you never thought you’d ever want to do with your gay best friend, but he seemed so in character it was actually beginning to bother you. What store did he go to exactly? And where the hell is the ice cream?

“That! What’s up with your voice? And your outfit? You look so different, it’s weird,” You folded your arms as if to mirror him.

“Weird, huh?” He asks and looks at his clothing before looking back at you.

“Not in a bad way. It looks good, it’s just not you,” You squirmed slightly before shaking your head to snap out of it, “I don’t know what store you went to that made you look like this—and congrats I guess, if you’re trying to switch up your fashion, but you completely missed the ice cream, so good luck trying to handle this rambling bitch.”

He laughs at the words “rambling bitch” and oh god that is not what his laughter sounded like before. When did the sound of his laugh sound so deep and sultry? You subconsciously sucked on and bit your lip at the sound of his laughter, trying your best not to visibly drool in front of him. He catches your subtle action and his brow raises at the sight.

“Despite all the things you said, you think this looks good?” A playful smile rests on his face and your heart beats erratically at his expression.

“Y-yeah, I don’t know,” You mumbled. He shifts on the edge of the bed to move closer to you.

“And because there’s no ice cream, you’re going to turn into some rambling…” He reaches his hand out, the back of his fingers feeling the skin on your exposed waist before resting his hand on your back to pull you in closer.

“…person?” he continues, brows raised and eyes staring intently at yours, not using the vulgar word you had just used to describe yourself (or the word he had just called you before he left to go to the store).

“I...um, we’ll see,” you replied, and he only chuckles deeply. Your voice had transformed into a murmuring mess and it annoyed you, but you couldn’t really do anything about it, right now he reminded you so much of—

“I think you look good too, you know. Maybe I did miss you a lot more than I thought I did,” he whispers, pulling you in even more so you were now standing between his thighs.

Missed you? After an eight minute trip to the grocery store?

You didn’t question it. Your mind was blanking out, malfunctioning, even. Here was your best friend, your gay best friend (as you had to keep reminding yourself), placing his hands on your bare skin in a way that you knew wasn’t going to turn out to be so innocent. Right now you were extremely attracted and possibly even turned on by whatever the fuck he was doing, all you could do to save yourself was blame it on the heat. Was this absolutely weird? Hell yes. Did you want to stop him? Fuck no.

Were you now completely devoid of all reason and logic?

Definitely.

Softly, he tugs on your arm and pulls you into him so you were now sitting on his lap with your hand resting on his chest. One of his hands was still attached to your waist, the other was resting itself on the bed, gripping on a blanket.

Chills run down your spine for the second time now as his mouth moves closer to your ear, “Lucky for you I know the perfect way to handle rambling bitches.”

Your breath hitches for a moment and Junghan moves back to face you, his lips grazing your cheeks a little before you meet each other’s gaze. The summer heat was definitely nothing compared to this, but you didn’t mind. Your faces were only mere centimeters apart now and you could’ve sworn he was beginning to lean in by the look in his eyes, which were now fixated on your lips.

Seriously, you could just grab him by the collar right now and speed things up. He’s the one who pulled you in first, anyway, you just wanted to get things going. Though you haven’t exactly a clue as to where this would end, you wished he would hurry up a little to find out.

But for some strange reason, your senses were enveloped with the distinct smell of a signature fragrance that you knew did not belong to Junghan and it snapped you out of your thoughts. The scent was strong enough to flash some memories back in your mind, making you frown. Did he use this perfume on purpose? Or was your mind just playing tricks on you? In a flash, you could suddenly think straight and you couldn’t help it, the moral side of your brain had turned far stronger than your currently raging hormones (thank goodness). Something was definitely off.

“But, Junghan… aren’t you… gay?” You asked, your voice trailing off a little.

His eyes widen and he pulls back from you. He stares at you for a few seconds before it hits him, and he starts erupting in laughter. You narrowed your eyes at him and got off his lap, moving over to the side and sitting beside him instead.

“Junghan?” He stresses on the name. You’re staring at him blankly now, like you knew he was just messing with you. His laughter eventually dies down and he places a hand on your thigh, though it seemed much more innocent now, “I’m so sorry, ____, you’ve got the wrong person.”

With one hand, he quickly grabs the blanket off the bed. The back of his other free hand endearingly caresses your jaw, and you notice how he lingers for a while as he moves a bit lower down to your neck—before wrapping the fabric around you and covering your whole torso with it. Your face immediately turns pink as you clutched onto the blanket to further cover yourself, feeling slightly humiliated, though you were still confused.

“Wrong person? What do you mean?”

“I was wondering why you had no shirt on, I thought that was just a regular thing for you now. But it’s probably cause you’re more comfortable around my brother, huh?”

“Your brother…?”

“Has it really been that long?” He chuckles, and instantly your mind began connecting the pieces together. Could it actually be him? You haven’t seen him in years, and no one even bothered telling you he was coming back today. No way, surely this was Junghan playing a joke on you.

“I’m not Junghan. I’m his twin brother, Jungkook. Remember?”

You hastily stood up in defense, still clutching the blanket close to your chest, “Shut the fuck up, Junghan. No one said anything about Jungkook coming back today!”

Junghan Jungkook only laughs and stands up, the melodious sound filling the room, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching the wide open bedroom door. 

“What a shame, but it was a surprise. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming home today,” He folds his arms, “And if I am Junghan, then who is that?” He points at the doorframe and true enough, Junghan was standing there holding grocery bags in his arms wearing his usual oversized colorful jacket and khaki colored pants.

You and Junghan both looked at each other with mouths dropped down to the floor before you looked back at Jungkook, who had the same smirk tugged on his lips, clearly amused at the whole situation.

Jungkook bends forward and leans in to your face, his voice in a lower tone but still audible enough for his brother to hear, “Probably shouldn’t take your top off so leisurely around the house anymore, huh?” He grins and winks at you, causing you wince and force an awkward smile, internally cursing yourself at everything that just happened.

“Anyways, I should probably rest up in my room. See you around,” Jungkook flashes you a smile before placing a chaste kiss on your (now dry, because your body had frozen up) forehead before walking away from you, taking the charger and dangling it in his other hand. He taps his confused looking brother on the shoulder before turning his head back to take one last look at you before walking out, leaving you and Junghan staring at each other in shock.

Junghan walks in slowly and sets the bags of grocery on the floor, shutting the door behind him.

“What the fuck just happened?” He asks you, eyes wide in anticipation.

Your mind replays everything that had happened between you two. Was Jungkook really just about to kiss you minutes before? Heart racing, you clutch on your chest from underneath the blanket he had covered you with. No way was Jungkook back. No way is he back and looking even more attractive than he did the last time you saw him. Not when you had just gotten over your small crush on him a couple of years ago.

The heat returns to your body, but it mainly pools on your cheeks. You look back at your best friend, but no words of explanation come up. 

“Believe me, I’m asking myself the same thing.”

↣ all rights reserved © 2021 tteokggukk. please do not repost. translations/modifications are not allowed.

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

A Wolf’s Heart | [Deglan x M!Reader] | The Witcher | Part II

Notes: Angst train here we gooooo >:)))

Fandom: The Witcher

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Swearing, Depression, Angst, Slight OOC, Non-Canon Story, Century Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Spiraling, Injuries, Self-Concious Reader, Misunderstandings, My sad attempts at making the language feel older

Summary: The usual life of a witcher is ruled by two things. Coin and monsters. Yet Y/N’s life has been overturned by his mentor. But Deglan is not in love with him and the young witcher is devastated. Thank god, he soon leaves for the Path.

Word Count: 3,218

Taglist: @thatsequoia​

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Fun fact: Y/N's mare in this story is called Lisica. It's the polish word for a female fox.

Part I, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII

Masterlist

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed and is addressed in this story, if you potentially get triggered please do not continue to read!

After that evening Y/N began to avoid Deglan. 

He wanted to distance himself to sort out the storm of emotions in his chest. He felt embarrassed for being so disillusioned. What kind of stupid and naive dream did he have? Was he a dumb maiden? How fucking ridiculous. 

The love he felt for his mentor had to wither, it had to die, and so he tried to avoid the older man but it was hard.

Because even though he and his 5 friends would leave for the Path soon and needed all the energy they could store, the older witchers tested them whenever they could - and Deglan was set on making sure that the knowledge of their school was branded deep inside their minds. 

Which meant that Y/N could not escape the other man and his spiralling thoughts. Additionally, he had to hear his rival complain all the time like an old trout. 

Today was not an exception:

"Oh, for fuck's sake! It has been years, why are we still doing these exercises?! We are not snotty brats anymore!" 

Fenri swung his steel sword in annoyance and thrust it into the straw with more force than necessary.

No one said anything, the only one who would have tried to appease him was long dead and like usual no one wanted to fill his role. 

Robin kicked a pebble towards Milan and smirked when the other raised his sword as if to strike him, Barmin watched them with a frown, Sven leaned against his straw puppet and closed his eyes to enjoy the sun on his skin and Wendir wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Y/N continued to swing his sword absent-mindedly at the straw puppet in front of him. Moments like these reminded him of the past and Cole's face appeared in his mind. 

The boy had died a gruesome death and he could have prevented it. He should have been the one to- He stopped the thought before he could spiral.

He had tried to ban these kinds of thoughts before, remembering Deglan’s words, but in the last few days he could see the lifeless eyes of his late best friend more often and a familiar dull pain had begun to spread in his chest once again. If only you were still alive...

He sighed deeply.

The h/c haired man was about to lower his sword when he heard the crunch of boots on the still frozen mud behind him and he abruptly turned around to block the sword that was about to strike him. 

At first, he expected Fenri to challenge him like his rival had done so many times before, but when he came face to face with Deglan, he panicked.

"Not bad, Y/N", said his grinning mentor and Y/N was so panicked to see the man he wanted to avoid at all cost that he shoved his sword against Deglan's with such a force, that the older witcher stumbled a step back and almost lost his balance. 

Instead of attacking him again, he raised his eyebrows and looked at him with a thoughtful expression. 

"You seem motivated to go out on the Path", Deglan remarked and the younger witcher remembered what he had overheard in the evening hall. 

His mouth held a bitter taste and he looked at the ground to hide his pained expression.  

"Yes, I cannot wait to depart", he squeezed out through gritted teeth. 

Deglan looked questioningly at Sven, Robin and their younger friend Wendir but the three only shrugged their shoulders and Milan, Barmin and Fenri all avoided his inquiring eyes. 

His mentor opened his mouth to say something but Y/N saw it and hurriedly mumbled: "I will go look for Lisica" and then he hurried off to the pastures, carrying his sword still in his hand. 

Deglan and his friends watched him leave in awkward silence, especially since Y/N was still supposed to take part in the training as they had just warmed up but the h/c haired young man seemed to have forgotten. Fenri was about to open his mouth and ask why their mentor just let the older one go but Deglan’s death stare stopped him.

-

His mentor had probably noticed Y/N’s weird behaviour but he never got the chance to address it because the h/c haired man tried to surround himself with other people constantly.

He carefully avoided Deglan whenever he saw him looking for him. And whatever he wanted to talk about - he actually had an idea what it was, but he didn’t want to hear it - it seemed to be a conversation just for the two of them because he never approached the young witcher when he was with his friends.

And so time passed and he and the five others attended their ceremony and the feast afterwards - Wendir hadn’t yet passed his last trial - and the only moment when Deglan caught Y/N alone was when he got severley drunk after Fenri challenged him to a drinking match.

The older witcher had grabbed him by the arm in the courtyard and Y/N almost lost his balance because he sure as hell could not be sober after so many drinks specifically brewed for witchers, and so he leaned onto the other for a few seconds, not realizing that he was practically burying his head in the hollow of Deglan’s throat.

“We need to talk Y/N”, Deglan said, his tone wavering a bit. 

The younger man shook his head, the world was spinning and before the older witcher could ask him any of the many questions he probably had, Y/N shoved him back and threw up on his own feet. 

He could not remember the rest of that night or if Deglan had said anything else but as he spent the last of his days in the school busily preparing for his upcoming departure, he did not exactly have time to mull about it. Not that he wanted to anyway.

And then came the day for him and his friends to leave on the Path. 

They all wanted to depart at the same time, so six newly appointed witchers lead their horses out of the stables on a Friday morning while their mentors and some younger apprentices who had not yet finished their training - such as Wendir -  trickled into the courtyard to tell them goodbye. 

Lisica neighed when Y/N adjusted the girth on her saddle and he patted his mare with a nervous smile. 

Today would mark the start of his journey as a full-grown witcher and the years of training suddenly felt very short. Though, he knew he had no reason to feel unprepared. After all, it had been 2 years since he had won against Deglan, who was known as one of the school’s strongest, for the first time. Now their score was 242 to 102, and he knew that his 102 victories were well-earned. 

He had done more training than the others and he could hold his own without a problem but as soon as Lisica would cross the stone bridge of Kaer Morhen he would be on his own. There would be no more hunts with his peers and his mentors, no one to cover his back.

Of course, he could team up with the others eventually but they all got their own assigned destinations and he knew he was the only one who would wander towards Aedirn for their first journey.

His thoughts got interrupted by Fenri scolding his nickering stallion who was eyeing Milan's mare a bit too closely. 

"Get it together! I know you are excited, but do not stir up trouble!" 

“I could tell you the same thing”, said a laughing Wendir, who stood next to the blond witcher to tell him goodbye as well.

Y/N snorted in amusement when he heard his rival address his horse and he nodded in Wendir’s direction. His friend smiled and waved and he returned the gesture, his nervousness subsiding a bit when he saw his friend's reassuring smile.

He knew to whom his first letter would go. After all, the man would be left behind for one more year with lots of library duties. And everyone knew how boring that was. 

The witcher checked Lisica's tack and his essential belongings in the saddle bags once more and then grabbed onto the saddle to mount when Deglan suddenly showed up out of nowhere. 

Y/N was so surprised that he remained on the ground, with one foot awkwardly in Lisica's stirrup. 

The man patted his mare’s flank and then looked at him with squinted eyes. 

"Are you leaving without telling your mentor farewell?" 

Y/N felt his heart flutter against his will when he heard the teasing tone in Deglan's voice and he muttered with red ears "I will be back in winter anyway" while looking at a particularly interesting patch of grass on the ground. 

He actually didn’t expect the older witcher to show up. Or he hoped he wouldn’t. His chest felt tight.

The younger man waited for Deglan to say something, something along the lines of “you shouldn’t be conceited as a wrong decision can kill even the most experienced witcher” - one of his favourite teachings - but his mentor remained silent for a bit. 

Then he said: "I know. You will come back because we have to discuss something when you return." 

His tone was serious and when Y/N lifted his head to look Deglan in the face, something appeared in his eyes that the younger man could not quite identify. It appeared warm though.

He suddenly wanted to ask if Deglan really had bedded a noblewoman but the moment passed when Rennes cleared his throat and everyone turned to him. 

"In all honesty, it’s too fucking early for this so I will make this short..." 

The older witchers laughed at their leader's comment and Y/N's lips twitched a bit, but he was worrying about Deglan's words from before so he did not pay full attention to Rennes' goodbye speech and instead he finally climbed onto Lisica. 

He settled in the saddle and his eyes got drawn to Deglan who looked at Rennes with an absent-minded expression, his hand still on Lisica's flank.  

"...I want all your asses back here in the coming winter and if anyone is missing I will personally go search for the whoreson's grave to piss on it, so you better return safe and sound for a feast!" 

The five witchers beside Y/N hollered and they mounted their horses in unison. He took Lisica's reins and was about to steer her next to Barmin’s horse when Deglan grabbed his wrist and he halted. 

His mentor seemed to conjure a blue cloth out of thin air and he pressed it into Y/N’s left hand. This surprised him and the feeling grew when his mentor said:

"You take care of yourself, understood? There is no shame in running from an enemy who is stronger than you, aye?" 

Real worry showed in Deglan's eyes and Y/N could only nod, the man’s voice was deep and his heart beat loudly in his chest when Deglan gently tied the cloth around his wrist.

“This is a promise that you return unharmed”, he clarified and cleared his throat. Y/N could only nod and he almost imagined his mentor caressing his wrist when his hand lingered a bit longer.

The thought made his chest constrict and he pulled himself together when his mentor let go of him and patted Lisica once more. 

"Take care of this fool, okay?" 

The horse whinnied as if to say 'of course' and then Milan urged his mare to move because Fenri's stallion was getting too excited and the group set off across the bridge. 

Lisica followed the others and Y/N contemplated whether to turn around to look at Deglan one last time for the next few seasons or to look straight ahead. He wanted to do the latter to strengthen his resolve to let go of his feelings but when his eyes caught a glimpse of the cloth on his left wrist he knew he was not yet strong enough.

At the end of the stone bridge, he turned around, but when he searched for Deglan's bearded face among the waving witchers and trainees, he could not find him. The man had already disappeared. 

Bitter disappointment welled up in Y/N's chest and he kicked Lisica to catch up with his friends. 

Fool, he thought and scolded himself.

That morning he swore to let Deglan and his feelings for him go.

-

But that was easier said than done. 

In the beginning, it was not that hard. The nervousness of his first solo hunt kept his feelings and thoughts about Deglan at bay but after his first few successful kills, he unexpectedly encountered a royal wyvern near Gulet and had to flee because he was unprepared. 

And that event started a whole avalanche of thoughts about his mentor. 

He rode on Lisica to the small city, his obtained wounds throbbing and blood dampening his mare's fur while shame burned in his chest. He had followed Deglan's order and ran away and thanks to it he kept his life, but his defeat left a bitter taste in his mouth and he felt foolish.

It took a while for him to recover from that encounter and his mentality had certainly changed. He realized once more that even a witcher could be slain easily if he was not careful enough. If he wanted to kill that royal wyvern, he had to prepare thoroughly. Especially now that he was alone.

While he recuperated in one of the taverns - paying a lot more ducat than a normal person would have to, fucking bastards - he racked his brain for Deglan's lessons about wyverns while playing with the blue cloth his mentor gave him.

His bestiary was surprisingly empty in that category and he cursed himself for daydreaming during that specific lecture.

He remembered how some of the few sun rays that entered their classroom in the morning kissed Deglan’s yellow eyes and made them look like liquid honey, how the lips of the older witcher moved and formed each syllable, how his sturdy chest seemed to be at war with his shirt when he moved his arms to show the size of a wyvern's head, and how his big, rough, scarred hands touched the monster skull to show the anatomy of the draconids.

Y/N groaned. Why could he remember his daydream about Deglan's hands on his neck perfectly but not the full content of the lesson? 

All he recalled about the dangers of fighting wyverns were the few notes he had made in the bestiary, but he knew that Deglan had told them a lot more information.

His bestiary entry on royal wyverns was made up of only a few lines as well - if one ignored the sketches at the bottom that were definitely not drawings of his mentor from various perspectives.

With a sigh of frustration, he formed the soft cloth into a ball and threw it on the small wooden table in the run-down room and then ran his hands over his face. The skin was bumpy due to his scars and the growing beard. 

Maybe I should shave tomorrow...

The h/c haired man stretched his arms and yawned and then laid down on the bed to rest. 

He would have to find the ingredients for Golden Oriole before he could even think about another fight with the wyvern. Y/N's wounds were not yet healed and he had yet to talk to the mayor about the potential reward for slaying the monster. He also needed to think about his dwindling stash of herbs, send an answer to the letters he received from his friends and find a better saddle for his horse. And oh, he also had to fix the hole he had accidentally burned into his sleeping mat.

He had lots of things to do but no motivation to do them. So he would think about them tomorrow. Determined he shifted to lie on his side.

But sleep would not come to him. The thoughts about Deglan could not be silenced, instead, they buzzed on and on and his mind constantly returned to his mentor.

Y/N's heart ached when he thought of the man and the feeling was so strong, that he doubted he could ever let go of the love he felt for Deglan. 

It was not a flimsy childhood crush, he yearned for the older witcher and this fact would torture him if he could not kill those feelings.

But he could not stop loving him instantly. It was not that easy.

The distance between them helped to lessen the pain of his unrequited love but it also haunted him at the same time.

How would he ever be able to face Deglan again and act like he never used to dream about him almost every day? How could he face him and ignore the fact that he wanted the man by his side? In his bed? In his arms?!

Did he really imagine all the little moments they had together? Did he imagine Deglan smiling widely at him whenever they met in the halls? Did he imagine the tension between them? Were the looks they exchanged just in his imagination? What about the soft touches that seemed unnecessary and like Deglan went out of his way to be close to him?

He did not want to believe that he had been wrong all this time. But that evening... 

Y/N had challenged Deglan to a fight over 400 times - if he counted their draws as well - but he could not find the courage to ask the older witcher for an explanation.

He would not be able to face rejection, not from him, he was not sure how he would react if he had to hear Deglan tell him about a woman. A dark voice in his head whispered that he knew exactly what he would do-

So, it seemed like he had to suffer for a while. Until those feelings withered.

A strange thought crossed his mind during that sleepless night and when he prepared himself for the hunt of the royal wyvern during the next few days, it transformed into an idea.

He went on the hunt for the royal wyvern and made it out alive because he remembered one of Deglan’s lessons right when he was about to get gutted by the monster. He successfully slew it and he was still covered in the intestines of the monster when he returned to the mayor.

After he received two full pouches with ducats from the mayor his thought turned into resolve.

So he took out Deglan’s cloth, tied it around his throat and made a promise to himself, apologizing to his mentor silently. 

He would not return to Kaer Morhen in the winter. And he would not take off the blue neckcloth until he was sure that he could let go of his feelings for Deglan. 

When that happened, he would take it off and let go. Forever. Love just wasn’t for him. 

He was a witcher. All that mattered were monsters and coins. 

[jadegreenimmortality]

hello! your header said requests are open so here i am 👉👈

if it’s okay, may i request hcs for atsushi when he just keeps accidentally (and unintentionally ofc) ignoring/neglecting his gf (or gender neutral if you wish) because of yk, ada detective stuff and exhaustion?? if possible angst to fluff or just overall hurt comfort pls :)

ive been going through smth similar with a close firmed so yeah haha

i hope you have a nice day or evening!😊

Atsushi accidentally neglecting his s/o

A/N: Heyyy dearest anon! Thank you so, so much for requesting, I am glad you deemed me worthy!!!! (ノ▽〃) I am truly sorry to get to this so late, my writing schedule is just not made for emergency comfort requests and I hope that whatever was going on with your close friend is long resolved by now. (≧≦) If not, this hopefully will bring you some comfort. <3

Pairings: Atsushi x gn! Reader

Genre: hurt to comfort

Warnings: angst, crippling self-doubt

Summary: Atsushi gets buried in work and doesn’t notice how this leads to him neglecting his s/o, until (y/n) has had enough of it. Fluffy ending.

Being the s/o of an ADA member in general is already hard. Any of them will work overtime regularly or just ignore regular work hours completely if need be. The burden to protect a whole city is heavy after all and you have to go to certain lengths to be able to do it justice.

But Atsushi is a very devoted s/o. Since you’ve stepped into his life, he’s been deeply thankful to have met you; even more when you became a couple. And although he has to deal with a high workload, he never failed to set time aside to spend with you. Until now.

You are used to him calling you in the late evening when he walks home to ask you about your day, only talking about his own day if you ask him to, because he doesn’t want to burden you with his matters. You are used to getting random texts throughout the day whenever he can spare a moment; asking you trivial things about your day or commenting on something he saw that reminded him of you. You are used to meeting up at least twice a week for lunch and spending most of the weekends together; you are used to having him close to you, even though his work keeps him physically away from you most of the time.

But lately, he barely calls you anymore. You start to feel a painful sting in your chest whenever you sit by the phone waiting even past midnight, hoping he might still call. Lately, his texts have gotten shorter and strangely impersonal; still peppered with emojis, but even seven differently coloured hearts can’t compare to a proper message with actual content after a week; lately, he’s been late to your lunch meetings or have been cancelling them altogether. In short, he’s been more and more absent.

At the start, you were just worried. Knowing his line of work, you were pretty positive he was working a bit too much lately, but you didn’t wish to burden him further by asking for his attention, which is why you didn’t express the accumulating sense of rejection and hurt which started to arise after weeks passed by with no changes in his behaviour.

And the continued absence started to get worse. After three weeks, he started to run late at Fridays, sending you a million “I’m so sorry’s” via text because he had, yet again, to work overtime. It’s fine, you told yourself, as you stared at the dinner you had prepared in your excitement to finally see him again, which would now get cold.

When he finally arrived, he looked exhausted. It made you forget the painful tightness in your chest for a moment. He looked just too pitiful, his face adorned by quite visible, blue-ish shadows under his eyes, his body slumped forward in the clear need of rest. When you hugged him, his reaction was weak and a yawn escaped his mouth the moment you leaned back. But his smile was as sweet and loving as ever, so you had mercy on the poor, tired soul and decided to draw him a hot bath. Maybe a bit of relaxing together in the bathub would lift his spirits, and you could just eat afterwards…

But when you came back to the living room, you found him fast asleep on the couch, one arm resting over his eyes to shield him from the ceiling light. You just didn’t have the heart to wake him up…even though you suddenly felt all alone again, his physical presence seeming only a weak replacement for actual time spend together.

The rest of the weekend made you largely forget your pain though. After a good night’s rest, Atsushi finally seemed to be back to his old self again: a cheerful, soft-mannered and caring boyfriend you could share your life with. You were hoping that there was no need to bring up the matter anymore. And he didn’t bring it up either; he didn’t notice the way your smile faltered when he mentioned how much word he had to do lately.

Your hopes were in vain. The week following that one was the worst yet. You barely got a text a day, some of them purely emojis, and you didn’t meet to eat lunch together even once. You felt yourself get close to the point of despair – not that your happiness depended on him, but could you even call him your boyfriend when he seemed to have forgotten that you existed? The hurt and pain started to get slowly replaced by anger and a subtle, yet very persistent fear of abandonment. You felt guilty for thinking about him this way – sweet, kind Atsushi, deep down you knew he would never neglect you consciously - but it was still getting harder and harder for you to remember.

The breaking point came on Friday. Even though it felt cynical, you already didn’t expect Atsushi to be on time – but you didn’t expect him to send you a text (a text!!) saying that he wouldn’t be able to make it and he’d come over the next day. It was the exact moment you finished reading the message that you lost it.

Something inside you – the dam holding in all the different emotions that build up over the past few weeks – crumbled. Your next actions were purely impulsive, logical thinking reduced to tired little speck in your mind.

You dialed Atsushi’s number. As he picked up, you didn’t leave the man even half a second to greet you and just sobbed into the phone: “Please come over. Now.”

Yes, sobbed. You didn’t register when the tears started to flow over and stain your face, but now you were trembling from the uncontrolled hiccups that interrupted your words.

And then you hung up.

Atsushi was on your doorstep 15 minutes later and ringing the doorbell like a maniac.

He was close to panicking. He was talking to Kunikida before he got the call, who witnessed his face turn paler than the moon after you hung up. Atsushi was in clear distress and proceeded to bow deeply, sputtering something about being very sorry and making it up to the older colleague, then spurting out of the room without even taking his bag with him. Kunikida didn’t dare to interfere.

Now, Atsushi has had his fair share of clashes with rivaling organizations already. He has witnessed people getting held hostage, kidnapped and threatened, including himself. So of course that is where his mind goes after receiving your call and when he arrives, he’s in a state of mind close to panic.

Imagine his relief when you open the door shortly after, physically unharmed. He grabs you by the shoulder, looking you up and down to check for any injuries. The relief only lasts a split second though because as he takes a close look at your face, his eyes widen in shock.

He doesn’t need his emotional radar to realize that something is wrong with you. Your eyes are puffy and red from all the crying, your cheeks are stained from the endless stream of tears and your lower lip is still trembling when you open him the door. You see his expression change from alert and highly worried to a second of relief and then to deeply worried again. It’s touching, really, and you are thankful to see the man you love still care about you as much as you care about him, but right now, you are too upset to let that be enough.

“(y/n)? What happened? What’s wrong??”

You drag him into the living room while he tries to find out what has happened, confused and unsettled by your behaviour. The whole situation is giving him a high level of anxiety as he feels the urgent need to ease whatever pain you are going through and, at the same time, starts to get the vague, yet suffocating feeling that he missed something terribly important.

As you sit him down on the couch and take a seat in front of him, he’s already desperately wracking his brain to understand what he could’ve done wrong, and the more he struggles to understand, the worse his desperation gets. This man is inclined to blaming the whole world’s suffering on himself and seeing his partner in such distress without understanding is already torture to him – especially as you won’t react to his questions at all.

As you start talking, his hands are folded in a cramped up position in front of his body to keep them from trembling.

At first, you manage to keep your composure while you recount what has happened. He listens attentively and eager to understand; and as the terrible realization dawns on him what had led to your current state, it doesn’t take him long to fall into an emotional pit of self-hate for not noticing his negligent behaviour. While you keep talking, you can observe how he lowers his head to avoid your gaze, hands clasping into tight fists on his knees.

He’s in a state of shock, caught between the terrible blame he’s putting upon himself and the need to somehow, in any way, make it up to you. He’s terribly afraid this may be the end of it; of your relationship, your love, everything the two of you had. He has disappointed you, he has proven to be unreliable and useless after all – that’s what the voice in his head, wearing the face of his old orphanage caretaker, is telling him.

Somewhere midway through your recount, the tears start flowing again. Even in his state of turmoil, Atsushi’s emotional radar registers your current mood swing. He automatically lifts a hand to wipe your tears away - only to have you slap it away.

You’re both shocked from your outburst of emotion, and you feel guilt spike as you see the evident hurt on his face, knowing well that he doesn’t bode well with violence in the domestic environment. That is when the anger finally dissolves and leaves back nothing but pain and the dreaded loneliness inside of you. You struggle to finish your monologue between hiccups and recurring sobs, now talking about how it all made you feel and how you didn’t want to burden him further by asking for more attention. You keep your head low, struggling not to break down physically, all the emotion that busted out of you leaving you empty and exhausted.

In the meantime, Atsushi’s mind is screaming at him. Your slap dragged him out of his shock-induced paralysis, but his head won’t stop spinning around the same questions. He made you suffer with his behaviour and he didn’t even notice. How could that happen? How could he let it go this far?

It’s only when stop talking that he dares to talk. For a few seconds, a heavy, cold silence falls over the room, nothing to be heard but both of your tears hitting the sofa. Then:

“I’m sorry.”

His voice sounds like a crumbled piece of paper, barely audible as he chokes on his words.

“I know that there is nothing I can say to make this up to you. I can see in terrifying clarity that I messed up. I just hope that there is something that I can do for you to forgive me.”

That’s were his voice starts trembling.

“I know I am not worthy of your love anymore, but I will do everything in my power to make it up to you, even if that there’s nothing I can offer you -”

By this point, Atsushi is crying too. His tears are almost silent as he muffles his sobs, not wanting to make you feel guilty for making him cry.

What he doesn’t know is that your angers has long dissipated by now. The moment he dares to lift his gaze, whole body slightly shaking from the hold-in sobs, that you realize all of this isn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to yell at him, berate or tell him what a horrible boyfriend he has been. You didn’t want him to look so hurt, or guilty, or fearful. You just wanted him to acknowledge you again, to remember to text you, to feel his affection and love and be able to show him yours. You can’t deny that it makes you feel relieved to see him have such a strong emotional reaction though – a tiny part of you is satisfied to see how much he does indeed care for you. But this is no reason to keep him suffering.

You cut him off with a hug. It may be a simple gesture, but as you lean forward and wrap your arms around his slender shoulders, you can feel how his tense body slumps forward, falling into the embrace. Don’t get me wrong, his thoughts are still spinning 180 miles an hour and his eyes widen with the sudden gesture of love, but his body knows instinctively what it wants, how much he longed for your embrace.

“Eh? (y/n)?” – “It’s okay, Atsushi. I’m so sorry that I yelled at you…it’s alright now. I’m sorry, this is not how I wanted this to end.”

Your voice is just as shaky as his and as your equally tired body sinks against him and you press your tear-stained cheek against Atsushi’s, he’s finally able to relax. He wraps his arms around you and presses you against him in a most desperate manner, one hand buried in your hair, one on your back.

You stay like that seemingly forever, listening to each other’s heart beats, buried in each other’s warmth while you calm down. You finally start to feel again what you’ve been craving the last weeks: the safety, the closeness and the trust in Atsushi’s love and care for you. And you’re determined to make him feel the same.

So when you peel out of his strong grip, you proceed to take his hands in yours and lean your forehead against his, steadying him physically first. You continue with trying to steady him mentally second, repeating that you love him and you only felt so hurt because you feared he may be starting to lose interest in you. You assure him that this does not bring you even close to the end of your relationship and that every couple has fights of the sort, yes, even ones this bad. You repeat this again and again, until you can see the of hope in his eyes that you were waiting for.

Even though things have calmed down now, the two of you stay up all night. You started with changing into more comfortable clothing and ordering take-out. When it arrives, you sit down at the couch instead of the table, craving each other’s closeness. You snuggle up under a cosy blanket and eat, silently basking in each other’s presence.

After finishing your meal and feeling a bit recovered, you start talking again. You remind him that, even though your current emotional struggle is solved now, the problem at hand isn’t, asking him to be less compliant at the agency and not accept every task that may significantly extend his working hours.

You both know that it will be a struggle for him; of course it will, as a part of him still believes his level of helpfulness to measure his worth in the world. But he understands now that he can’t comply to everything if he wants to keep his life together and he’s determined not to let something like this happen ever again. He still feels guilty, he still feels like he failed at being your boyfriend, but after your reassurances, these feelings are more of an incentive for him to better himself. All of this he says out loud, smiling cautiously, but with the warmth you do love so much.

He promises to work less and put more time aside for you again. After you thank him, he asks you shyly for a favour in return: to approach him faster if you ever notice similar behaviour to happen again.

“I don’t want you to have to suffer through the same thing ever again.”

If you needed any last proof that he means it, this is it. You can’t do anything but reach forward to grab his face and give him a short, yet loving kiss. It’s only after that that you whisper in response:

“Only if you promise the same.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part IV

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1880.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

_________

After you came back to your room, you got a message from Steve about changing the locks on both you door and your locker. You were so taken aback by today's conversation in the student council room that you had completely forgotten about it. Apparently, Steve had already requested the change of locks on your behalf through email, and you were really grateful to him for that: you dreaded coming back to the room that had been forced open. Of course, tonight you would have to move your dresser to the door so that nobody could enter when you'd be sleeping.

Shit. It was absolutely crazy.

"I'm not sure about all this, Steve." You texted him while laying on your bed and staring at your phone in the darkness of the room. "It doesn't seem right."

Naturally, you meant the fake dating thing. It felt horrible thinking of what others would think after seeing you with five different guys. Would they be calling you a whore in the open? Make some nasty jokes behind your back? Report you to the school administration for immoral behavior? Remembering those bigots from the student office, you cringed at the thought.

Besides, it still didn't make sense to you why you had to date all five. Sure, if they were around you at all times like your friends, these unhinged bastards who stole your things wouldn't do anything funny again, but it wasn't like that. What could one guy do against a group of other students?

"Listen, I didn't want to talk about it in class, but I'm worried it won't end with a stolen lingerie."

You didn't like his message.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. They might attempt something much worse than a theft."

Oh no. Was he talking about rape? Seriously? Did he anticipate others were so crazy they would do something like that?

But then again, girls were being raped in colleges even if it weren't the all-boys schools. A shiver ran down your spine.

"But if several people attack me, just one of you won't be enough." You typed with your shaky fingers, trembling beneath your blanket.

"It's not about the pure force. Each of us has a certain reputation, and others wouldn't want to cross us over because of it."

Wait, this was interesting. What on Earth did he mean? What kind of reputation was that to prevent people from messing with them?

"Thor is a good athlete and a great leader, his basketball team is ready to beat people to death for him."

"Loki's father is one of academy’s main sponsors, and he can have this school turned upside down if he wants to."

"Bucky is a threat by himself, but he also have a company of loyal friends."

"I don't think Peter is serious enough to scare anyone, but with his computer skills he could easily blackmail others, I’ve already seen him doing it. Students would be wary to cross him over just like any of us."

Steve was writing you a bunch of messages with a terrifying speed, and you could barely read the first when he was already sending you the second. It felt absolutely insane. Did he choose every guy because the more powerful admirers you have, the less others would intervene? Well, at least in case of Bucky and Thor who could beat people to near death, it was wise. You preferred not to think of Peter - you had no idea someone as sweet and caring as him did something as disgusting as a blackmail.

“But what others will think? 5 boyfriends? Others will think you are dating-” you paused, chewing your lips to bit, “- a whore. Nobody gonna stood up for me.”

"Imagine if each of us tells our friends that other four guys were just asked to watch over you, but you date only one.”

Oh. Yes, this was slightly better. Then you wouldn’t have to do something as bold as kissing every guy in public, instead maintaining the mystery who you were really dating. 

Damn, how Steve even came up with this plan? Why was everything so complicated?

“It’s getting late. Good night.” Your phone vibrated again, and you huffed with irritation. You hoped you could ask him a bit more - about what you were going to do with the thieves Steve found, for example - but he was probably getting tired with all your questions. It was better to ask him tomorrow.

___________________

The next morning you were restless: since you were starting to going out with guys, you felt like you needed to look better than you usually were, so you spent your morning working on your hair and makeup. It was like fake dating, right? You had to pretend you wanted to look pretty for them.

What else did you have to do? Cook something sweet for them? Yeah, probably, but not at the start of your relationship. Going to cafe together? Helping each other study? Loki also mentioned the cinema...

You felt dumb. Of course, you dated guys before, but now you realized you had no idea how to act not to cause any suspicion. Oh boy, it was going to be a tough day.

Thor nocked at you door thirty minutes before your first session, but you woke up so early you were more than ready to go. As you opened the door, first moving the dresser back to its place, the guy looked at you with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Hey, what was that?"

"The dresser. I can't leave the door just like that until the lock is changed."

He blinked at you, watching the door and then probably remembering somebody forced the lock open to steal your underwear.

"These guys are batshit crazy." He mumbled and nodded you to go with him, putting his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, they won't do it again."

You wanted to argue they definitely would, but, seeing his warm smile, you thought Thor simply wanted to cheer you up and smiled at him in return. In the end, he was here only to make you feel safer: you didn't doubt he was very popular with the girls every time he went out to the city.

"You look great today!" He said sheepishly, walking in the dorm's corridor while other students were staring at him silently, obviously surprised to see you two together. "I mean, not that you looked bad yesterday, I just..."

Watching his face suddenly getting crimson red, you couldn't help but giggle at his expression. You could never think Thor was actually bashful around girls. Yeah, at your old place he'd definitely be one of the most popular guys around.

It was lunch time when you two could actually talk, sitting together at the same table and being watched by everyone around. Strangely, with Thor constantly talking and often rubbing your hand with his, it didn't feel suffocating, and you held your head high: regardless whether those pricks were looking at you, you weren't going to run away to your room and cry there like a little girl. Loki was right: you weren't a silly little sheep, scared of your own shadow. You wouldn't let anyone spoil your time in the academy you dreamt studying in.

Funny enough, Thor turned out to be a talkative type when he was speaking about basketball and his team in particular. He loved sports: while you were more into hockey, the way he talked was so enthusiastic it made you listen to him with a genuine interest. Thor's love for basketball was infectious.

He seemed a simple man, this giant bag of muscles who was laughing so loud people around him flinched; Thor wasn't the exact type of a guy you would encounter on your own, but he seemed nice, sincere, and surprisingly softhearted. You felt at ease talking to him, and soon you too acted like you'd known each other for long.

It was a pity you'd only met under this circumstances. It felt like you two could became friends.

But then when Thor absent-mindedly put his arm around your shoulders, you remembered Loki's warning: they would try to gain your favors. Was it the reason Thor was so nice to someone he just met? Wasn't it suspicious of him? You couldn't let your guard down after just one lunch together. In fact, you knew nothing of the man sitting in front of you.

"I knew something like would happen." Some guy to your left sighed loudly, catching your attention. "They were fucking crazy."

"I'm not surprised either. I just wanna know who they got in a fight with to be beaten like that. Have you heard they broke Gray's both legs?"

"Woah, both? That's brutal, man."

You shivered, trying not to listen to them.

"It'd happen sooner or later anyway. They were completely wild."

A word caught your attention right away: that was what Steve called those students who were stealing your things. Could it be a coincidence? Surely, in an all-boys school the students were fighting each other constantly.

But to the point of breaking both legs of someone? Really?

As you sent Thor a nervous look, he gently patted your shoulder, lowering his voice so no one would hear him, "I'm sure it's nothing to do with you. These things happen here from time to time because the guys have no idea what to do with all that testosterone."

You hoped he was right.

The rest of the day went as usual aside from Thor walking the corridors with you and chatting about sports: he managed to convince you to come see the game next month when they would be having a tournament. You were grateful to him for helping to ease your mind because the news of guys being sent to the ambulance made you shook. Steve also mentioned something about his and other's friends ready to beat anyone to death, right?

By the middle of your last class you couldn't think of it any longer and quickly typed a message to Loki. Of all people, right now he seemed the most sincere to you.

"Hi. Are the guys who were beaten last night are the ones who stole my things?"

Waiting was a special torture when you held the phone in your arms beneath your desk, hoping to see your screen lighting up with a message. In five minutes you got your reply.

"Yes." The message said simply, but it was enough for you to stare at your phone with horror, wishing you didn't ask Loki anything.

Oh shit. It wasn't a coincidence, right? It's impossible. Somebody did it on purpose. But who of the five?

"Do you know who did it?"

Next time he answered pretty fast, "No."

A part of you felt relieved. Maybe it wasn't related, finally. Maybe they got beaten by somebody who was fed up with their attitude because they were crazy as the guys in the cafeteria said.

But what if it weren't true?

"Who's the most brutal among you five?"

Biting your lips, you started rocking in your chair a little, making the guy on your left to roll his eyes in irritation.

The phone's screen flashed again.

"Barnes."

Part V

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