#this makes me feel near to homicidal

[beardedmrbean]

South Carolina middle school bullies who pushed a 12-year-old girl to hang herself visited her later at the ICU and took photos of the victim to mock her on social media, according to a new lawsuit.

Kelaia Turner, now 14, suffered more than a year of physical and verbal abuse at the hands of five peers at the Dr. Phinnize J. Fisher Middle School in Greenville, her heartbroken family wrote in a lawsuit against the district and nine faculty members who were accused of negligence.

Seeing suicide as her only way out, Kelaia hanged herself in 2023 and was dead for 8 minutes before paramedics could revive her, with Kelaia suffering severe brain damage and remaining in a coma for weeks.

While Kelaia was in the coma, one of the bullies made their way inside the ICU and snapped photos of the intubated girl, posting the pictures on social media and spreading rumors about her injuries, the lawsuit says.

Ty Turner, Kelaia’s mother, said she wants justice and is targeting the district for allegedly failing her daughter and allowing the bullying to go unrestrained for a year and a half.

“They used to teach us, ‘Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me,’ “ the mom told WFY44. “Unfortunately, words do hurt.”

The lawsuit claims the bullying started in 2021 when Kelaia began wearing her natural hair to school, with students calling her “roach” and saying she looked “like a man.”

Kelaia’s teacher, Olivia Bennett, allegedly joined in on the mockery and would acknowledge the victim when the bullies would ask her, “Where’s the roach?”

Along with regularly insulting Kelaia and pushing her, one of the bullies verbally assaulted her when they found out her parents spoke to school officials about the torment and planned to move her to another class.

Things only escalated in 2022 when Kelaia got into a fight with one of the bullies, with school officials opting to suspend her but not her tormentor, according to the lawsuit.

On May 23, 2022, Kelaia’s parents said, students targeted their daughter by playing an offensive YouTube video called “The Black People Song,” which teacher John Teer allegedly allowed to be played aloud without reprimand over the video’s racist nature.

Later that year, the bullies went on to pour water on Kelaia’s clothes and then threw them in the trash, the lawsuit states.

Through all this, the stricken child’s parents allege that the district failed to take any meaningful action to stop the torment, with Kelaia opting to hang herself with a belt in her bedroom on March 17, 2023.

“She was cool to the touch, blood was coming out of her nose,” her mother recalled of her daughter’s limp body afterward. “She had fully committed to what it was that she was attempting to do, and she was gone for 8 whole minutes.”

Kelaia ended up suffering severe brain damage and has been left with no control over her body.

The lawsuit, which was filed in November, seeks damages from the district and faculty members to cover Kelaia’s medical bills, psychiatric expenses, special education, parents’ lost wages while taking care of her, life care expenses, disability care, injury to her psyche and emotional state and loss of enjoyment of life.

Greenville County Schools has denied the allegations and claims its staff takes the appropriate steps when dealing with bullying incidents.

“We disagree with these allegations and have conducted a thorough investigation and review of each allegation at the time they were made,” the district said in a statement.

“While we do not agree with the allegations, our hearts go out to Kelaia Tecora Turner, her mother, and their family,” officials added.

As of Tuesday morning, a GoFundMe to help support Kelaia raised more than $15,000.

[latenightreadingpdf]

Knock on the Door - Spencer Reid

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: In the midst of an intense investigation, Spencer and Derek bring you into protective custody after a disturbing discovery links you to their case. As you navigate the unexpected situation, Spencer’s calm presence offers reassurance, sparking an unexpected connection amid the chaos.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The quiet street was a far cry from the usual high-stakes BAU scene, but the tension in the air made Spencer’s skin prickle with unease. He glanced at Derek, who was already preparing to knock on another door, exuding his usual calm confidence.

"This one could be a lead," Derek muttered, showing a slight glint of hope in his eyes as he raised his hand to knock. The case had been dragging on, and frustration was growing with each unanswered question.

When the door opened, Spencer noted the faint hint of confusion in your expression. Derek immediately flashed his badge, his tone respectful but firm. "Ma’am, I'm Agent Derek Morgan. This is my colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI."

Your eyes darted between the two of them, registering the serious expressions they wore. "The FBI? What's going on?"

"Have you had any strangers come to your door recently trying to sell you something?"

A flicker of recognition passed over your face, and Spencer leaned in, catching the shift. "Actually, yes,” you said, brows furrowing. “A guy came by yesterday… He gave me his card.”

Spencer and Derek shared a look. "Do you still have that card?" Spencer asked, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice.

"Yeah, I think so. Let me grab it." You turned back into the house, leaving the door partially open, and returned a moment later with a card in hand. As Derek took it from you, he confirmed with a nod that it matched the cards left at the other crime scenes.

You looked between them, anxiety creeping into your voice. "What is going on? Who is this guy?"

Spencer’s voice softened, his gaze meeting yours directly. "We believe he's a dangerous criminal who may be responsible for several recent homicides. His method involves gaining entry to homes under false pretenses."

Your face paled as the weight of his words sank in. Derek placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We need to take you back to the station to make sure you’re safe. There are some steps we’d like to take to ensure you’re protected while we gather more information."

"Safe? Is he going to try and kill me?"

Derek’s expression turned serious. "We have reason to believe he might try to come back, and it’s important we get ahead of him."

A sense of dread settled over you as you let their words sink in. You followed them to the car, feeling your stomach twist with a mix of fear and disbelief. As you settled into the backseat, Spencer turned to give you a reassuring nod.

“Just so you know,” he began, his tone gentle, “we’ll have officers posted near your home to ensure he doesn’t have the chance to get in. We’re taking every precaution.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… a lot.”

“Understandable,” Spencer said, glancing at you with a sympathetic look. “We’ll also have you meet with a sketch artist and undergo a cognitive interview. It’s standard procedure, and it might help us learn more about him.”

You looked out the window, processing the reality of the situation. The quiet chatter between Derek and Spencer drifted over you as they discussed possible motives, patterns, and theories. But for now, you were too lost in your own thoughts to make out their words.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

When you arrived at the station, Spencer took a moment to walk you through the cognitive interview process. "It’s designed to help you remember specific details," he explained, his voice calm and assuring. "It might feel intense, but I’ll be with you the whole time."

You nodded, glancing around the bustling police station, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and adrenaline. "Okay, so… I just answer questions, and you’ll be able to get a clearer picture of this guy?"

Spencer gave you a small smile. "Pretty much. Think of it as helping us paint a portrait. Every detail, no matter how small, could be useful."

The interview went smoothly; Spencer’s presence was patient and encouraging, never making you feel pressured to remember something you couldn’t. Afterward, he led you to a small break room, offering you a seat at a worn table with a coffee machine humming nearby.

A few minutes later, Spencer returned with two steaming cups, handing one to you. "Here," he said, "it's not gourmet, but it’ll keep us awake."

You took it gratefully, feeling a sense of normalcy settle in. "Thanks, Spencer." You sipped the coffee, savoring the warmth. "I didn’t expect to spend my afternoon in an FBI station, but… it’s definitely more interesting than my usual routine."

Spencer chuckled, seeming surprised by your laid-back attitude. "Most people aren’t as calm in situations like this."

You shrugged, feeling the weight of the situation but refusing to let it get the best of you. "I don’t know. I figure, if I’m in good hands, there’s no point in freaking out."

As you chatted, Spencer filled you in on some of the behavioral profiling techniques they used, giving you a peek into the mind of the BAU. His eyes lit up as he explained the ways they’d been analyzing the unsub’s behavior to find any possible patterns, and you found yourself genuinely interested, asking questions and absorbing his answers.

"Do you ever wonder why people do these things?" you asked thoughtfully, watching him as he considered your question.

"All the time," Spencer replied, his voice softening as he looked down at his coffee. "But there’s rarely a straightforward answer. The best we can do is study the behaviors and try to make sense of them. Hopefully, it helps us stop them."

A sense of respect grew in you as he spoke, and you found yourself admiring the dedication he had for his work. "That sounds exhausting. Important, but exhausting."

"It can be," he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. "But it’s worth it, especially when it means keeping someone safe. Like now."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his sincerity. "Well, I guess I’m lucky you guys were around."

The door to the break room opened, and Derek poked his head in, giving Spencer a grin. "You two doing all right in here?"

Spencer nodded, standing up to update Derek on the details you’d given during the interview. As they talked, you finished your coffee, feeling a strange sense of calm despite the unusual circumstances.

When Derek turned his attention to you, his gaze softened. "We’re going to have a team set up around your house tonight, keeping a close eye on things. We’ll catch this guy if he shows up."

You nodded, feeling reassured. "Thanks, Agent Morgan. I know you guys are handling it, so I’ll let you do your thing."

Spencer glanced back at you with a small smile. "If you need anything, or have more questions, just let me know."

As they walked you to the main desk, Spencer looked back, his gaze soft. "We'll keep you safe," he assured you once more, his sincerity unmistakable. "Until then, try not to worry. We’re on it."

A small smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. "I trust you," you replied, giving them one last grateful look before they escorted you to a waiting area. And as you waited, you felt a sense of calm, knowing you weren’t facing this alone.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[prentissluvr]

the language of love isn't dead — dean winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, frenemies to lovers, petty arguments, ft. sam!, dean is annoying obviously <3, reader speaks latin (i used google translate and it is probably very wrong lol), kissing, one mention of a sexual innuendo, a few joking death threats, non-serious mentions of choking, poorly edited, 2.4K words. requested !

summary : you tend to compliment dean in the dead language of latin after fights so that he doesn't know what you really think about him.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

“you’re being ridiculous,” you frown at dean, arms crossed against your chest as you stare him down in tonight’s motel room.

“ridiculous?” he parrots, indignant. “this is baby we’re talking about. my car. you know, the ‘67 black chevy impala i would kill a man over?”

“yeah, i know her,” you reply, sarcastic in tone. “and your homicidal tendencies when it comes to her. i’m very familiar, dean.” you roll your eyes at him because you just can’t help it. dean makes it very easy to get annoyed at, for a multitude of reasons.

reason number one, he’s annoying. reason number two, he’s very hot when he’s angry. reason number three, he’s very hot pretty much all the time. it does not help that sam got first dibs on the shower, so he’s still covered in a bit of grime and blood from the hunt you just walked away from. it’s his best look, aside from any time that he smiles.

“well, then you should know that getting her perfectly tended to and polished leather seats dirty with wendy’s barbecue sauce is like a goddamn felony and i should sentence you to life of never even stepping foot near my car again,” he fires back, and if you didn’t know him well, which you do, you’d venture to guess that he’s joking. he’s not.

you groan in frustration. “for the last time, i did not get barbecue sauce on your car seats,” you insist.

“i saw you sneaking fries before we got to the room,” he counters, narrowing his eyes at you. “you could have gotten grease on the leather too.”

“i ate two fries dean, and i was careful. i used a napkin and i did not open my barbecue sauce!” you spit back at him. you can’t believe you’re arguing about this right now. except that it is so believable and so like you and him. it’s not like either one of you is going to back down, certainly not about something so petty and meaningless.

“then how come i found some in the back seat?” he says for what feels like the millionth time.

you throw your hands up in the air. “i don’t know! i don’t even use my barbecue sauce for my fries. there’s no reason for me to have opened it!” you argue, huffing out a frustrated sigh. “and how do you even know it was barbecue sauce?”

“it looked like barbecue sauce, it wasn’t there yesterday, you’re the only one who orders it and the only one who’s sat in the back since then. therefore, barbecue sauce,” he admonishes, crossing his arms over his chest to punctuate his point. you can’t help but laugh at him a little bit. he just sounds so ridiculous.

“well then, let’s say it was barbecue sauce—which it wasn’t. did the leather get damaged?” you ask pointedly.

“that doesn’t matter!” he practically rages, taking a step towards you. god, he’s beautiful and you hate him for it (you really, really love him for it). “what matters is that you got it dirty!”

“jesus, dean! just drop it, your car is fine!” you chastise, your voice raising a little in volume as you take another step towards him. you can see his light freckles better now. they’re so goddamn pretty it makes you want to choke him.

“just drop it?” he repeats, fuming. “i will not ‘just drop it.’ this is about baby. i can’t ‘just drop’ something about baby! how can i even trust you enough to let you in my car again, huh?” this is the point where he’s serious, but not that serious. there’s clear frustration and anger in his voice, but he’s stuck with you and he knows it. and when he asks that final question, his volume lessens and he shrugs. he’s looking for you to grovel or offer something to appease him. the question is whether or not to give him that. your instinct is, of course, to not. you let out a huff of breath.

“well, maybe because i’m excellent company in the car,” you suggest, a gloating tone making its way into your voice. “and i like your music better than sam does. which means we always outnumber him. that’s very important.”

he’s unimpressed, clearly. “you gotta come up with something better than that, sweetheart,” he goads.

you curl your lip at him and roll your eyes. “you absolutely suck, dean,” you state. he raises his eyebrows and you groan and roll your eyes yet again. that’s not the word to use around him unless you want a sexual innuendo thrown in your face. “you are absolutely horrible, dean,” you amend.

he laughs at you and his annoyance mostly subsides. “which means i have no problem getting back at you tenfold for getting goddamn barbecue sauce on my car seat.”

“te respicere bonum cum iratus es, ita dampnas,” you grumble, shaking your head and glaring at him. like tradition, you end the argument with a certain latin phrase full of choice words. 

now dean, sweet, lovely, silly, gorgeous dean, has no idea what you’re saying. he doesn’t care to learn enough latin for that. he doesn’t need to know, he thinks. your tone of voice says it all. he thinks those choice words are the type that one fills an insult with. today you tell him, “you look so damn good when you’re angry.” which, funnily enough, is not an insult.

it’s the perfect way of looking him in the eye and just spitting it out. you get to say without consequence what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, what you want to tell him so badly. it’s not the same as him knowing, but it helps. it eases your tension until the next time, it softens the blow a little.

sam fails to hold in his laugh behind you. you whirl around and glare at him, freshly dressed and out of the shower. you hadn’t even heard him leave the bathroom. narrowing your eyes at him, you tell your long time best friend, say something and you die. he puts his hands up in surrender, still laughing at you a little.

“shut up,” you grumble, then turn back to dean with a scowl.

“what was that little nerd exchange?” dean teases, realizing sam understood what you said.

“nothing,” you glower. “i’m showering now!” 

dean throws his hands up in protest. “you’re making me shower last after getting barbecue sauce on my car?”

“dean, i swear to the lord in heaven, if you–”

“fine, fine!” he relents, the sarcasm and teasing still clearly present in his voice. “you’re right, you should shower first, you probably have barbecue sauce all over ya.” you raise your fist in a threat and it’s dean’s turn to put his hands up in surrender. “i’m just saying!”

“stop saying!” you groan. “just– stop talking, i’m gonna lose my mind.” if i have to stare at your gorgeous face and listen to your gorgeous voice for another second i will go crazy. you sigh heavily. god, you wonder if you could survive not kissing him. monsters and demons and all the strange shit in the world… that’s fine. it sucks but, jesus, at least you know how to deal with them.

but doing it all with dean? you have no idea how to deal with that. so far, it’s by arguing with him, complimenting him in a dead language, and keeping him at an arm’s length. and so far, it’s not working out too well, because you still want him. you still want him to want you back. you still wish and wish and wish that the language of love isn’t dead, not for you and him, not yet, at least.

maybe the shower will help. this motel doesn’t have the worst showers; the water pressure is decent and the water stays hot for a while longer than some others.

you’re not annoyed when you finish, at least, not about his stupid accusations of you getting condiments on his car seats. unfortunately, you are still annoyed about how attracted you are to him. even more unfortunate, you suppose, is that you’re attracted to him, period.

you sigh because you can’t bring yourself to actually try not to be. not that anyone can reverse feelings, but you let your feelings run rampant, more than you should sometimes. you let him eat away at your heart like a goddman movie zombie that’s too stupid to remember it eats brains. then, you figure that the thought of him eats away at your brain too, because he messes with your rationality sometimes.

his eyes are on you as you leave the bathroom and you wonder if sam’s tattled on you. when you shoot him a look he shrugs and shakes his head. you’re not convinced, but you let it slide. you plop down on the pullout couch bed and pack your old clothes away, ignoring dean’s heavy gaze. only when the door to the bathroom opens and closes do you flop against the bed with a heaving sigh.

“i hate your brother,” you grumble, barely loud enough for sam to hear as the muffled sounds of the shower turning on hits your ears. you turn to your side and curl up, not even bothering to pull the sheet over yourself.

you can’t see sam, but you hear him scoff from his spot on his own bed. “sure you do,” he quips, completely sarcastic.

“no, i really, really do,” you insist, not meaning a word of it.

“well, he hates you too, then,” he answers, voice heavy with implication. you know what he means because he knows what you mean. hate, of course, is love.

“no, he doesn’t,” you counter, sad about it. you bet that no one’s ever sounded so disappointed that someone doesn’t ‘hate’ them.

“you’re hopeless.” sam’s probably shaking his head at you as he reads the words on the book in his lap.

“i’m hopeless,” you sigh.

⟢⟢⟢

it’s not until a few days later that dean confronts you about your little latin digs at him. sam did tattle, only because he’s tired of your pining, but dean won’t tell you that. he’s smart enough to know you’ll end up with your hands around sam’s neck if you end up finding out, and he’s not trying to have his… person strangle his little brother.

“hey, idiot,” he starts, the word layered with affection. “why do you always insult me in latin? sorta feels like you lose the point of insulting someone to their face like that.” 

he’s leaning against the hood of his car, beer in hand like always. it’s oddly uncommon to find yourself like this; outside, alone with him. the motel’s not busy and there are barely any other cars in the parking lot, and even less people. it’s just you and him as far as you can see. the night air is mild, cicadas singing as summer begins to slip away.

“well… maybe the point is that you know i’m saying something about you, but you don’t know what,” you shrug, sort of proud of the smooth answer. you’re not even lying. inside, you’re panicking a bit. this is dangerous territory.

“the stuff you’re saying is that horrible, huh?” his tone suggests a joke. his eyes suggest otherwise. it makes you pause. 

how unfair is it, to the both of you, to lie? to even joke that you’d say such mean things about him? about dean winchester, whom you know sort of hates himself. who has just two people by his side, you and sam.

and you, who only argues with him because it’s easier than being nice. you, who deserves what you want but won’t let yourself even try to have it.

“no,” you sigh out. “i’m not saying horrible stuff about you.” you don’t look at him, you don’t mess around. you take the joking in his voice and strip it away. you take the look in his eyes and put it in yours. it makes him look at you, for once. it’s easy to imagine his eyebrows raising, his lips caught somewhere between his signature smirk and a curious frown. “not in latin, anyways,” you add, letting a huff of laughter leak into your bitter voice.

dean keeps looking at you. you know you’re supposed to explain after saying something like that, but you’d much rather not.

“no?” he asks finally. now you have to say something more.

“no,” you confirm, still staring at the trees across the street instead of him. the street lights are orange in color, and it feels either cruel or hopeful that it’s such a beautiful night. “i… say it in latin because it’s something nice. and you can… ignore this, if you want. i say it in latin because i like you a lot, dean. y’know, more than a stupid, fucking friend.” you roll your eyes a bit, like you’re upset with yourself. then you swallow thickly and ignore the fact that you can see him in your peripheral vision. he doesn’t look like he normally does. he doesn’t look angry.

dean is torn between teasing you and kissing you. you sound mad about the fact that you have feelings for him, like you wish you didn’t. ‘more than a stupid, fucking friend’ is a real funny way to phrase things, if he’s honest with himself. the question is, does he say that to you, or does he look for something better to say? he’s not good with ‘better things to say,’ whatever that might be.

“a little aggressive for a love confession, no?” his voice isn’t even that teasing. it’s sort of gentle. he wants to slap his hand over his mouth for saying that godforsaken four letter word. you had said ‘like.’ it’s freudian slip, he supposes, since he loves you.

“this isn’t funny, dean,” you murmur, voice sort of defeated. and yet, you hear it. it’s not funny to him either. he wasn’t trying to be funny, he was trying not to feel. he was trying to say at least something, because he was having trouble coming up with anything else.

“i know,” he relents. he draws in a deep breath. “will you look at me?” your lips part, then close. you blink a few times. you turn your head and look at him. god, he loves you back. he’s got to, or there’s no other way to explain how he looks at you.

and there’s definitely no other way to explain him kissing you. he looks you right in the eyes and he leans in until his lips are touching yours. 

his eyes flutter closed, yours follow. you kiss him back, he kisses harder. the language of love isn’t dead. all you had to do was say something.

[keferon]

Did I spend two hours writing this? Ha! No, why do you ask. *lying through my teeth* anyway come here Mecha au Texaid enjoyers. come get yall juice.

———

Vortex isn’t sure when it started. Doesn’t even dare to try to pinpoint the when, why, where and how of it. Just that it exists. Some forgotten feeling stored in the deep recesses of his somewhat intact consciousness that has resurfaced. It burns him, tears down at the steel walls he had formed around himself. Makes him feel like he’s being broken down then built up again. 

It’s a wonderful, terrifying feeling that eats away at him the more ‘he’s’ here. The more that secretly unhinged medic-turned-pilot crawls into his cockpit, every time getting more comfortable with connecting with him literally and figuratively. With Aid slowly coming to not outright radiate hatred with every encounter. Sharing stuff like music, who they couldn’t stand, and answers to the most stupid questions like ‘wha’s your favorite color?’. Vortex had cackled at Aid for that one.

At first he rejects the feeling. Stops it at full force, imagining it going through a trash compactor or being incinerated to ash. He makes himself believe it’s a game. Empty threats, flirtatious behavior and cutting banter puts him at the top 5 of First Aid’s Most Annoying Motherfuckers to Ever Exist list. A tidbit of information he is proud as fuck of.

But that denial came to a stop the moment Shockwave had stepped into his hangar while Aid had been in his cockpit, his visor the only shield to keep that creepo from getting near him. Vortex may have been a homicidal maniac, but there had always been something about Shockwave’s presence that made him feel suffocated even back when he was alive. It took some silent processing to realize—and goddammit he hates himself for it—how afraid he had been. Not so much for himself but for the little flesh bag hidden away inside him. 

It had rocked him, that’s for damn sure. When Aid had asked what made him different from all the other pilots Vortex had disregarded and killed, he answered truthfully at the time. ‘You treat me like a threat, like I’m the one in control of this power instead of you.’ And while that still held some merit, it changed kind of. ‘Threat’ turned into person. And the power that he holds became more and more of Aid’s. How easily Vortex was swayed into giving into Aid’s requests. 

The first one being to dissect that Quintesson. He had reveled in the way it squirmed and screeched, trying fruitlessly to get out of their grip. Vortex considered to simply rip it in half for fun, until he felt something from the connection in the drift. A sort of fascination and curiosity quietly humming through the link. Took him longer than he’d like to admit to realize it wasn’t coming from him but Aid. A drive to know how this creature worked, how to best take it apart to examine its insides. And before he knew what he was doing, Vortex did, cutting it as neatly down the middle as he could manage. He remembers the shudder of excitement from the link, at how different that alien was, how this information could benefit battles in the future. The bombardment of information and feelings had shocked him, though he of course didn’t show it, but it also sent a thrill of wonder through him. ‘This freak’ he had chuckled to himself, feeling as Aid leaned out from his cockpit to examine the creature.

After that he realized how dangerous this was. The power Aid unknowingly held over him, and all he needed were his words. But he found that he didn’t care all that much. Especially not when Aid would sometimes fall asleep in his cockpit after a grueling mission, and Vortex would snap his visor at anyone who tried to get him out. Moments like that made him wish he still had a human body. To flick the nerd’s nose, to ruffle his hair, to playfully shove him. Thoughts like those made his non-existent heart throb, sickening himself with those sappy sentiments. He will never mention this to Aid, you’d have to rip it out of his cold, dead conscience.

Standing in the hangar, he’s not sure when he had decided this promise to himself. Doesn’t even try to pinpoint when. But he knows that if this little ant ever died, he wouldn’t stop destroying everything in his path until he either killed the one who had done it, very slowly at that, or deactivated with vengeance still roaring through his circuits. 

OH I LOVE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH KFKFNFKDNHDKRKTNRJRMT

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[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。APOLOGIES — SHIDOU RYUSEI.

✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationship, post argument make-up, annoying shidou as always, reposting bc it got marked w a label the first time even tho it’s sfw

dating shidou is not easy, it takes maturity and patience and the will of god’s strongest soldier. in fact, most of the time, dating shidou means you’re constantly drifting in and out of being mad at him—which, right now, you’re quite mad.

“shidou ryusei, it is one am,” you glare, opening your door and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. he has a wolfish grin on his face—it’s cocky, and it widens as he stares you up and down in your little batman pajama pants. normally, you wouldn’t answer the door for someone you’re mad at, boyfriend or not, but shidou makes it hard to ignore with his incessant knocking.

you value your sleep—and more importantly, you value not being kicked from your apartment for noise complaints.

“aw, not the full government name,” he says slyly, and it only makes your blood pressure rise even more as you practically feel a vein pop.

“ryusei,” you warn. but he doesn’t pay attention, just as you expect. instead, he whistles lowly.

“i like the uniform. ‘s cute,” he cackles, eyeing the way your pants are hung a little lower on your hips from tossing around in bed, exposing a bit of skin that he drinks in shamelessly.

“thanks,” you say dryly, “they’re fuzzy and they were half off. now why are you here?”

“just visiting,” he shrugs.

“at one am?”

“it’s twelve fifty-two,” he corrects like he lives to defy you in every corner. and you bet he loves it—in fact, you know he’s positively enthused by the way your lips curl into a scowl and your eyes glare at him so fiercely. he stares down at the way your hips slant as your cross your arms, and he chuckles (which you think is almost passable as a giggle at the sheer giddiness.)

only shidou ryusei would be giddy from turning you halfway near homicidal, and only he would find the murderous glint in your eyes cute, wholesome.

“what do you want,” you say bluntly. he takes a step forward, and no matter how mad you are, you can’t help but stand painfully still as he leans closer, trying your damn hardest not to lean in when his hot breath fans over your face as he stares at you.

“your bed would be nice,” he hums, “preferably with you in it.”

he’s insufferable. everything he does and says makes you want to chuck bricks at his head and hope it fixes the loose wires he seems to have. but you don’t even get to finish saying, “fuck off, ryu—” before he cuts in.

“c’mon, don’t make me find a way in myself,” he curls his lips wickedly, like he’s got you in checkmate, like the cards have been in his favor all along as you play the game he’s written. but this time is different—this time, you’re determined not to let shidou take advantage of your weak heart through his rough and tough charms.

this time, you have a point to prove.

“i’m going to call the cops on you,” you threaten, “tell them i’m being harassed by a pink-haired freak.”

“i wouldn’t mind getting married in jail,” he grins, and you can practically make out the hearts in his eyes as he looks at you. it makes you want to slam the door in his face and go right back to bed. but that would only mean he’d go back to pounding on your door and singing your name, and you’re pretty sure you’re one more instance away from your neighbors collectively petitioning your eviction.

“i don’t want to marry you,” you hiss.

“don’t be like that,” he reaches to poke your cheek, “being inmates would be fun. we could give the officers a show as we fuck—”

“ryusei,” you hiss.

arguing with shidou always ends like this. he worms his way in and knocks down your walls without ever saying i’m sorry. he eases his way back into your heart with wide grins and cheeky comments and that charm of his that really shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. he never admits he’s wrong—but the way he tries harder the next time, makes sure he does it right, makes sure he’s better just for you, you know he cares. he never resolves things in the way you would consider the standard method of patching up after those unavoidable couple fights—but this time you decide it’s different. 

this time your feelings are hurt—really hurt. the kind of hurt that makes you wonder if you’re annoying. or if you talk a lot. or if he even wants to be around you. or that maybe you tire him out. or that the sound of your voice is grating. or that you overstep boundaries. 

this time there is no brushing the cracked shards of your heart under the rug and acting like he can kiss the pieces back together. this time you want to hear it from him—and if you have to stand at your door at ungodly hours of the morning and milk it out of him…well, you’re inclined to do that. 

“c’mon, babe. are you gonna keep me out here all night? lemme in—”

“you’re not coming in until you apologize,” you say bluntly. he groans, throws his head back, and slaps his hands over his face as he grumbles into his palms. 

“god, you’re killin’ me here. seriously, you know i didn’t mean it—”

“‘for fuck’s sake, i’m not your damn kid’,” you mock his voice from the other night, reminding him of his own words like he’s forgotten. he only stares at you with pursed lips and a blank face, but that doesn’t stop you, however, as you scowl at him and continue, “i don’t know. you seemed to really mean it when you said that.”

“i was just tired, you know that—”

“i was just trying to look out for you,” you don’t even seem like you’re listening to him anymore, poking a finger at his chest accusingly as he lets you, “i watch you sleep at unreasonable hours only to wake up before the sun itself—”

“yeah, and i told you i’d work on that—”

“and then i ask you, have you eaten today? and you know what you tell me? yeah, i had a protein shake this morning—”

“okay, and that was like one time—”

“and then i hear that you get into a fight, and lo and behold, you show up to my place with a bloody nose and cracked knuckles—”

“but you should’ve seen the other guy—”

“and then i come over to your apartment, and your laundry isn’t done, your dishes aren’t washed, and you have eighty million socks on the floor,” you start to put a finger up for everything you list, making him fiercely fight back a chuckle that he knows would seal his death wish, “and all i try to do is take care of you so that you can be healthy and play your best and what do you do? yell at me and tell me it’s not my responsibility to—”

you’re cut off by lips pressing onto yours harshly, the rough feeling of a calloused hand cupping your cheeks and bringing you closer. and maybe if you had a bit more self-respect, you would shove away the rude, ungrateful, irritating, tacky-haired douchebag of a boyfriend that stands in front of you, but you simply choose to lose all dignity when it counts most. you choose to give in, melt into his touch, lean closer and fist his shirt as your lips press back just as firm. 

and when he gently pushes you back, you let him. you even let him step into your apartment and spin you around, shutting the door and pressing your back against the cool surface. his body cages you so that there’s no room for escape—not that you think you could even run from him now that he’s let himself in, anyway. but with one more peck to your lips, he pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours as he clicks his teeth and sighs. 

“fine, i’m fuckin’ sorry. ‘s that what you wanted to hear?”

“not if you’re only saying it to make me un-mad,” you say stubbornly.

he clicks his teeth again, shoots you a look of irritation that you return tenfold. “‘m sayin’ it ‘cus i want to, dumbass. you think i’d say that shit just to say it?”

“i don’t know, you’re rude,” you shrug, not meeting his eyes. he rolls his eyes before he leans in and kisses your cheek, then the other, then the tip of your nose, then just over your brow, then your eyelid—and when he sees the beginnings of a smile crack on your lips, he nibbles on your cheek and pulls a soft giggle from you against your will. 

“said i was fuckin’ sorry, stop being stubborn.”

“don’t yell at me again,” you huff, “and fix your sleep schedule.”

“okay.”

“and eat proper meals.”

“fine.”

“and maybe clean up.”

“kay, i’ll try. happy?”

“and stop getting into fights—”

“let’s set realistic expectations, here,” he cuts you off, earning a huff from you. but you seem significantly less angry—and he’s glad. because sleeping without your body to squeeze in the dead of night and not hearing you hum that stupid song you always listen to as you wash dishes and not getting those back to back pings on his phone as you spam him with daily updates is starting to get to him. so he wraps an arm around your waist, tugs you flush against his chest as meets your gaze, “are you still mad? because then you’re just being difficult.”

“no,” you sigh, making him grin.

“good.”

“i just love you,” you mumble, and there’s that cute, innocent little pout that you always do tugging at your lips, the one that drives him mad and reminds him he’s just as in love too. “i want what’s best for you—”

“yeah, yeah,” he grunts, “okay. i love you too. i’ll start being more responsible and shit. now can i come to bed?”

“fine,” you cave, “but—”

“great, let’s go,” he drags you along, not wasting a moment before your body is tossed onto the mattress and his lands on top of you, head tucking into your neck. and it’s warm—where his lips are, where he traces kisses along the awaiting skin. 

dating shidou ryusei is exhausting—but there are a few perks, you have to admit. 

“you’re a headache,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair. he snorts, shakes his head from his place in your neck, earning a small giggle from you at the way it tickles. 

“yeah? so are you with your nagging.”

“i don’t nag,” you slap his shoulder. he laughs—it’s that low, soft rumble that he only laughs around you, when his head is tucked into your neck, and your hands rub up and down his back, and he’s content. 

and maybe a little in love. 

“you do. but i love it, it’s hot when you’re mad.”

“go to sleep, ryusei,” you roll your eyes. and then you wait a moment or two—just so he doesn’t get a big head when you begrudgingly mumble, “and i love you too.”

half of this is just filler with dialogue but wtv. take this lil scenario in my head of arguing w shidou bc he’s a living train wreck

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐴𝑟𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑, 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐴𝑟𝑒 𝑆𝑒𝑒𝑛

A/N(1): Considering Gaming is pretty much like me in every aspect and a weird sagau-like thing happened to me where, whenever I make a 10 pull, I always get Gaming and now baby boy is C5 already( THREE of them were on the same pull btw), and that we need to spread more love for him... Here I am with this impulsive piece of work that suddenly came to my mind where us, the reader who is the Creator of Teyvat and all the universes, descends only for him and IS the one who grants Vision to people. (Visions are not some shitty way of controlling people here)

A/N(2): I know Lantern Rite is over but damn, did I loose inspiration to finish this so soon so, I divided this into two parts.

Warnings: Spoilers for Lantern Rite and Gaming's backstory, Reader giving good parenting advice and literally being a grandma who would slap someone with a slipper and commit homicide for children, communication problems between parents and children.

"I think the Creator isn't too fond of me y'know?"

Lumine and Paimon sweated at the mention of your name, the former one rubbing his defeated shoulders for comfort as she looked at her companion.

Paimon worriedly looked up where her mother was as she floated above Gaming, the now peaceful and serene Celestia floating above them with the rightful owner in it. After gathering all your essences back and helping you come back once again - and learning that her emergency food was actually the Creator's daughter-, Lumine had the chance of meeting you quite a lot actually.

The reason for it was pretty simple: Lumine and Paimon had become inseparable.

They had been travelling together for years, all alone with only having each other to rely on. Sure, they made great friendships over the years and they were always happy to reunite with them whenever possible... But none of them could come with them on their journey.

Especially since it was unknown when exactly it would stop.

But although they thought to be alone as they discovered the truth about both Lumine and her brother's story and Paimon's origins... Lumine knew they weren't really all by themselves in such a vast and seemingly endless world.

She could feel it in her soul... With the warmth that never left her ever since she woke up near that shore, the one that had never left her even if she was starting to loose hope, always pushing her to fight for one more day.

There was no way you wouldn't love one of your own child.

"Ahhh... Why do you think so, Gaming? Have you done something to offend Her?" Paimon asks cautiously, with a hint of softness Lumine rarely heard since she was often sarcastic just as you were, as she patted his head warmly with worried eyes. This was one of the rare times that Lumine really saw You in her, that Paimon had more than one thing common with You.

Except Your love for food, that is.

She, better than anyone, knew how You were, after all, as a daughter... She felt your unconditional love even when she had no recollection of, well... Everything that happened.

Even when she didn't know what or who she was, she knew one thing clear: The Creator loved Her creations so dearly... The one on the throne could never be Her.

"Uhhh, Paimon really doesn't think so! Her Highness is known to be so loving and kind and also supportive of Her creations-" she nervously stuttered, looking up to where you were supposed to be as she gave as much comfort as she can. She didn't need to be an expert to know that most of the people in Teyvat adored their Creator, and all of them respected You for... every single thing You did for them.

Including setting new Heavenly Principles to ensure peace all across Teyvat, after millenias of destruction caused by the Usurper which tainted the soil, the very core of Teyvat and the souls of people and gods alike.

Gaming, of course not surprisingly, was one of those who admired you the most. Chenyu Vale, after all, was known for their tea and tea ceremonies, especially those of Adepti and the Creator. The stories of your both heroism and creation was one thing told throughout the land... And then there was the parental ones they had heard and read about thanks to their Archon, Gods and Adepti wanted to preserve for Your and their sake...

To remember those peaceful times they all used to sit with You and eat, drink to their heart's content as they shared stories and what they had been doing with their humans... Before either Barbatos or Menogias and Bosacius "ruining it" with their banter and over all "idiocy" with one of them begging to drink wine with You while the other two argued about the fact that Bosacius shouldn't enter where you are, alongside the ladies, practically half-naked as a mean of respect.

Menogias was not the one describing such events with much disdain, it was Rex Lapis' rather "dislike" towards a certain God of Freedom as those who read your stories sweated awkwardly at his descriptions of " that drunkard who wouldn't stop hogging the Creator all to himself and had no brains too actually give a thing for rules"... All the while You cackled with the "ladies" at the back with a comedic look on your face, betting on how many tries it would take for them to finally agree.

It was good old days... that seemed far, far away from reach as the years passed and now Teyvat was becoming another version of itself, one that You would be proud of no matter what.

Safe to say, most people praised your name and prayed to You through those ceremonies. Liyue and Chenyu Vale were the one who was perhaps the earnest with their belief, and the tea leaves they were proud to grow with Your blessing...

And with the dim-sum they had as a breakfast, to reminisce and pay respect to You and all the Gods who dined with You above the sky once.

But back to the modern days, where three youngsters were having a meltdown for different reasons...

Gaming, because he just told them- two once strangers and now his friends- his biggest secret and insecurity after his problems with father.

Paimon who almost bawled her eyes out from sadness because of the drop of his head like a kicked puppy at the slight sign of his insecurity of failing her mother.

Lumine, because these two were being total dummies and she was wondering how the hell Paimon could be related to You, who was always the logical one and always choose the rational side of things.

"I-I know that, and trust me, I am very grateful to be acknowledged by Her but... Well, I mean, I am surely in no position to complain but life wasn't the easiest for me. Especially since I chose to indulge in Wushou Dancing. You guys already know my story and... And I'm afraid that I didn't satisfy Her with how I failed at making Wushou Dancing popular-"

Gaming ranted in one breath, his face contorting in pain, both from the possibility of such thing being true and from being breathless, as he looked like a kicked puppy with his huge brown eyes from where he stood in front of the petite blond, who stared at him with a confused and troubled look.

" Woah, woah! Easy there, calm down, Gaming... So you think she is upset because of... This?"

Lumine couldn't help but frown while pointing at him and back to his vision, confusion and slight worry clouding her golden eyes as Gaming gulped and looked at her through his lashes, head turning away and eyes trailing over to stare over the tea fields. She only hoped he didn't think it was because she was belittling his worry, but rather, she didn't understand why he worried.

You were always so proud of your creations, did they really not know this?

"Uhm, y-yeah? Why wouldn't She be? She saw potential in me to make it so popular and well-liked by people yet, hehe... Here I am, as a complete failure. Just like my dad predicted..." He rubbed the back of his neck embrassed, sweating from the nervousness at the intense glare the duo was giving to him.

Logically thinking, he knew there was absolutely no way of knowing anything about the Creator, especially something as trivial as this. Both because of a) you must be too busy to care for such a small and childish thing and b) you were the Creator, how were you not supposed to love what you made?

But poor boy's insecure mind was too consumed by the self-hatred he had kept inside for so long that it started to consume hım whole... Enough to question everything he had been taught all of his life, questioning himself for the first time ever since that day if all these struggles were worth it.

Paimon, seeing and having a guess at his state, quickly budged in to divert his attention elsewhere.

"B-But I am sure that mot- I mean, Her Highness didn't bless you with a Vision and showed her favor while expecting something in return!" Paimon suddenly shot up to the air, her short legs kicking at the air angrily as her face was contorted in pure anger for the way he was thinking. And Lumine, for the first time ever since meeting her, cold sweated because of how scary she looked at the moment.

"But..." Gaming sighed dejectedly, coming down from the shock of her sudden burst, head hung low and feeling the familiar sting of his eyes of many nights he spent alone on his bed and looking back to his decisions, trying to determine if he regretted them or not, thinking about his beloved mother and Creator...

And what you both must be thinking of him.

Had he... Failed both of you?

You, who created the whole world with so much love, "The Mother of All" and his own mother, who never shied away from showing her support to him even when his father was angry at her for "spoiling" him...

"But..." he couldn't help but get frustrated at himself, and the tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. How long was he going to act like a kid? How much more would he trouble others because of his problems, much like he was doing now to even his new friends that he just met? He knew he kind of failed at his biggest dream, although his stubborn father didn't know about it just yet and he intended for it to stay that way...

Actually saying it out loud made him realize how... futile, his hardwork had been.

He really didn't make any progress at all, huh?

Before he could get any other self-deprecating thoughts, he contiued with gritted teeth as shame slowly filled him and he moved to get up. "...I was given a Vision because of my ambition to make Wushou Dancing popular in Liyue Harbor, at least that's how I see it although I know not everyone's jumping at watching it... And if I can't make it come true then..."

Another dejected sigh as his hand subconsciously went to his Vision, feeling its comforting warmth as he clutched the glass orb tightly. He always believed that the Visions' warmth, apart from containing the aspirations of the holder, had always had a part of you as well... That the comforting warmth that accompanied him much like other holders, was because of your love and hopes for them. To see what path they would carve for themselves while watching over them...

And there was no way he made anyone proud with what he had become. His relatives? They didn't particularly care about him, they couldn't, right? And his father was another story with the restless and hurtful quarrels they used to have every day, especially after his mother's death. He wouldn't even talk to him, yet alone look at his face, why would he care to come looking for his son?

How would a young boy like him ever know that the reason his father couldn't look at him in the eyes was because he was also reminded of his mistakes and hurtful words he uttered towards his own father when he was his age? How would he know that his own father, though he didn't show himself like that, lacked the way to express his guilt to his own son that he hadn't seen in a long time?

How would he know that his own father was drowning in his own guilt, but too afraid to say anything to his son when he too, was drowning himself in guilt and self-hatred?

His, and unknown to him... his dad's, mind was clouded with their own sadness, all the while never leaving their eyes from the clear sky while Paimon's and Lumine's worried eyes were on Gaming's melancholic ones, as the duo shared a stare only they could understand... with a question after years of being on Teyvat suddenly popped inside their mind.

That they had to reach to you as soon as possible...

And learn how the Vision-giving process actually worked.

"Then, what am I?"

Meanwhile, up in Celestia, you were merrily decorating your place in Liyue themes, since the Lantern Rite night was coming closer, and watering the many plants you had as a gift from your children was taking too long, you opted to keep yourself busy with humming a soft tune.

Completely and blissfully unaware of the chaos in Liyue.

But you know what they say: A mother intuition always works and is always right.

"Hmm... My mom senses are tingling yet once again. Could it be my daughter?" You curiously asked to yourself, a slight worry deep in your heart as you walked back to your throne room to check on her and her companion, the music still blasting inside your head.

Those "earphones" your Fontanian kids called, was really something else as they blasted of your son Barbatos' one of the many ballads, only requiring a magical jade to store that tune. Perhaps you could visit your son and see how they are all doing after that whole Usurper ordeal?

"My children truly exceeded my expectations... If only they didn't nearly destroy Khaenri'ah all those years ago, give them a very unnecessary curse and give me one week of detailed work before the new year..." You couldn't help but sigh out "tiredly" and crack your back, rubbing your neck as you opened the huge white gates of the throne room.

Khaenri'ah, your dear children, were unfortunately caught between the crossfire of Celestia and the misled Archons, getting either killed or cursed with monstrosity and immortality. With yet another scheme of the corrupted Heavenly Grounds combined with them being too blind from their greed, the evil surged to the surface near Khaenri'ah and thus... since the only God they believed in was you, the biggest enemy of the Second... They were nearly destroyed completely.

But now, after a very brutal battle on the very same grounds you now peacefully walked on, Teyvat and your children were finally free with no blood of them dripping to the ground. You gave a new hope, a new world where people would thrive and live in harmony.

Children no longer in pain and crying, not being without parents...

Mothers never having to cry for their fallen children and fathers going mad...

However, just like you always thought of your children... They didn't hesitate to surprise you, and on some occasions scare you, with their quirks... It was only natural to be scared for your children, most importantly your baby, right?

Listening to the conversations of your daughter and Lumine with their other companions had always been a joyful experience for you, even when you were yet to take a form and were shackled. Often they joked with each other, or threw sarcastic quips at each other much to your amusement as you saw yourself in your daughter as clear as the day.

With how easygoing and cheerful their conversations would often be, you didn't think there was anything alarming happening as you looked into our orb.

There were times even you, the Mother-of-All, were left speechless...

As soon as the foggy and disturbed watery surface of your orb cleared out with a wave of your hand, and you were able to see the worried eyes of your dear vessel and daughter looking at a young boy with red and brown hair, their conversation made your mom senses 100 times worse.

"Gaming... Are you okay? Did you sleep well? You look like you are about to fall asleep any time!"

"Not really. Just yesterday, I stayed up all night playing cards..."

"Huh? Stayed up all...night? Isn't that- Isn't that a bit concerning for humans?" You worriedly asked your royal guard as he shook his head just as worriedly from behind you, although disguised it better than You did as you repeatedly looked between him and the orb, picked on your lips and pulled on it in worry as if it could somehow make you understand what you just heard.

He wasn't the Mother of All, after all. It wasn't in his nature to worry about the young ones.

"This boy... He surely doesn't give a single care about his health! I didn't create sleep for humans for nothings! One thing they need for completely resting and-and look at this! Unacceptable!" You groaned with a deep, threatening tone, angry and not understanding why humans tried to go against their nature like that, hands on either sides of your hips as you stared at Gaming's reflection and see... Just how really tired his soul was.

Going between a great dilemma for his future, a hard time for him, one that hangs heavily upon his shoulders and the soul you crafted quite carefully and gently.

What was it that made a boy so young such as him so deeply upset that it affected him deep to his core?

Yet... Made him still so sweet and... pinchable?

"Hmm... They seem to be getting along well nonetheless." you affectionately expressed with a hand under your chin, trying to be still positive, lovingly looking at the content smiles of all three children as your daughter feasted upon food after food and was being spoiled to no end by none other than Gaming himself.

The young boy's willingness to pay for everything and not "disturb" other's, even if he earned that Mora in the hard way, impressed you and his kindness and easygoing side was something you had never seen in a human before.

And considering you were the Creator, that said a lot by itself.

But still... His way was one that could be considered as... "Self-destructive", one that rang the alarms of a troubled childhood even from miles away, and also one which needed to be stopped at one point.

Even if it required the two most essential weapons of a mother: "The Mom Voice" and "The Slipper".

Your thoughts were cut short when you saw your daughter's shy yet puffed out cheeks as Gaming cooed at her, you couldn't help but chuckle as well, leaning down over the orb with both hands on your cheeks and heart combusting and running up the walls from the sudden surge of love you felt for the three young children as the other two coddled your daughter, in their own ways of course.

Aww, a fed Paimon is a happy Paimon, huh?

"And just like that, Gaming is her new favourite friend." You giggled at Paimon's flushed cheeks from the orb you watched, Lumine's smug yet peaceful smile after all the traumatic events she went through brightening your face. Gaming's bright smile wasn't so behind on the race of "radiance", his eyes twinkling in happiness at Paimon's happy and wide smile, feeling proud with himself that he was the reason she was a full and happy child at that moment.

That was exactly what you wanted for your children and people to have: Get along well with each other, learn from each other as everyone experienced the world you served beneath their feet... Not fight for their lives in greed and selfishness.

You sighed in relief when you realized that they were fine and happy, a bit tired perhaps from the hard work earlier but still... They were finally being what they were supposed to be from the beginning as they joked together already.

Two teens and a child, though the latter was questionable since Paimon has been there ever since "the Beginning".

"Gaming is one unique boy, just like many of Your creations, Your Highness... Easily well-loved, and befriended even by 'two outsiders'."

You absentmindedly nodded, you attention straying away from the scene before your eyes as you looked at one of the pillars of Celestia in deep thought.

It was no shocker that humans were... weird, in the eyes of other gods.

You created them with compensation and empathy, with the need to socialise and friend others in their journey. The way they would do it, however, entirely depended on their choices and often times, even when shackled, you watched them in amazement with the different routes they had taken with their life.

Some gods didn't want to question your authority, but couldn't help the questions linger in their minds: Why would you built paths for them when you knew the end? When you knew how they would act?

Well, that was the question forbanother day...

But even with knowing it all, Gaming's behaviour shocked even You, who was the one to set the order.

The sixteen-year-old just... gave and gave and gave at an alarming speed, without ever stopping... Without even asking for anything in return.

That wasn't good at all... A person who gives and gives, who is very self-sacrificing with absolutely zero care about their own emotions, trying to gain people's gratitude so that they would continue the relationship/ friendship, definetly experienced a situation where they felt... Invalidated for their feelings.

And You saw it... Even your daughter, who loved food and tea more than anything, hesitated to accept his request for more food and treats to eat after all the things he bought for her.

But in the end, she was just a child. A child who loved treats, especially if it came from someone else.

"You really liked it, huh?... You know what? I'll buy you a whole bunch and pile them so high, you could swim in 'em!"

"You... You noticed what Paimon likes?" you could hear the slight wavering of your little baby's voice as a gentle smile overtake your whole face, your insides filling up with an unexplainable need to crush her to your chest with many kisses all over her chubby cheeks... Although what he said he would do was a bit impossible.

You always knew your daughter had a very soft heart behind her "ugly nickname giving ceremonies" or her sarcastic answers, even when she unintentionally ( or not, at least when she saw someone she didn't like) spoke too much and too loud.

Lucky of her that she had people who loved her anyways.

It seemed Gaming and Lumine also thought the scene to be wholesome as they both smiled with closed eyes at her obviously touched state, Lumine snickering under her breath as Paimon sniffled and blushed while glancing away from Gaming, who also supported a brotherly smile at her.

"Wait... Seriously? Paimon was just joking, you don't have to do... that!... But if you are going to get us something anyways, we would much rather have Winter Melon Cake instead! And you said you hadn't eaten it for so long, so Paimon calls it a win-win."

"Ah, don't mention it! Just think of this as a thank you for all your help." He waved his hand dismissively as he prepared to leave, doubts and anxiety still swirling in his eyes and soul. Yet, he hid all those behind a warm smile and saddened, downcasted eyes.

But there were things he couldn't hide from one entity...

"Besides, the thing between me and my family... It's a long story. It might take some time to tell. You get all hungry in the meantime as I prepare everything, goodbye!"

With that, Gaming sprintered away from the two travellers who looked from behind him with perplexed eyes. Poor Lumine couldn't understand what had just happened, with both Gaming's "story" and the way he abruptly ran away.

Paimon was busy with getting agitated, having had enough, though.

Fortunately, they weren't the only ones who felt that way... Although Paimon's reasons were different than You and Lumine.

"Is he underestimating Paimon? Hah! The audacity! She is just gonna have to show him how much-"

"Paimon could eat, perhaps?"

"Mama!"

Paimon's angry rambling and flapping of her cape ceased, her happily exclaiming as her eyes lightened up with stars when she zoomed in to where you were waiting for her with a closed eyes smile, leaving a trail of constellations in her excitement, head slightly tilted and arms wide open for her to come crashing into and nuzzle to your warm chest.

It had been such a long time after all, the last time you were peacefully together being Sumeru where you had been hiding to gather all your powers back and lead Lumine to where you were.

After a very emotional reunion, answering a lot of questions about the creation in general and the Abyss and Celestia, saving the Sumeru (as in entirety) and their Archon who was apparently your freakin' granddaughter who was very eager to finally meet her grandmother whose voice was the only thing she was able to hear in her dream...

All of you decided to wait for a bit more until everything settled and this silent war was over, to "descend" onto a very much so eagerly waiting Teyvat and declare Paimon as your youngest daughter.

Oh the amount of war flashbacks some people would have because holy shit, they treated and even insulted her- the Creator's child- so badly, they were sure they would get a very torturing punishment...

"Hello, Your High-" A hard, yet teasing, stare of your starry eyes was all it took for Lumine to sweat anxiously and correct herself with a shy smile, cheeks flushing at your serious yet still soft eyes. It wasn't in your nature to chide and get mad easily, although your eldest children would beg to differ about the previous one. However, for your dear ones, they didn't have to use such honorifics when you were all tightly knitted through the fate you let happen.

Besides, Lumine was just so cute with her bashful forgetfullness of adressing you casually, even when you often reminded her.

"Y/N... I hope you have been fine lately?" You hummed pleasantly as you nodded, patting your daughter's back as she nuzzled to your neck for warmth with a toothy smile.

"Hmm... I really was, thank you Lumine. I hope your journey on Chenyu Vale wasn't so harsh?" You inquired with a turn of your body, the floral designs on your dress and the edge of your long sleeves flowing as if they were slowly moving and your mighty crown standing on your head, shining blindingly and setting fear on enemies.

But it only amazed her further, making her stare at you for the power you held in amazement and how easily you could destroy everything and yet, chose not to.

"It was not as harsh as it was then Inazuma's, it was quite pleasing." She answered after a few seconds of pondering, making you laugh out awkwardly and sweat as she smiled kindly at you, knowing how you still held yourself to blame for what Ei had done to both of them and her own people.

I couldn't show her the right path when she needed her mother the most... Of course, I'm one of the people to blame...

That was what you said when you witnessed the pain Ei's grief and twisted thinking of "Eternity" caused to her people. Grief... Grief often blinded logic and the truth right in front of people, which resulted in unwanted situations and the hurt innocent people would have to face.

The sight of lightining scars across Lumine's petite body, a crestfallen look painted with grief raking through her body as your soft hands slowly touched her scars that you offered to heal... You never felt more disgusting and a failure than you did at the moment.

To which she always replied with " They do not hurt anymore, Your Grace..." with a tight and secure squeeze of her hands over yours as she hugged you, the Creator who felt immense guilt for something that happened out of Their control, because of the wrong doing of something else.

A Creator that felt sadness and compassion for one of Their creations so openly...

"Ah, apologies once again... I wish it was just as pleasant as it was with Liyue and Mondstadt but you know-" you shut yourself up with a forced cough, not wanting to remind her of her bad experiences as you stared at her golden eyes, to which she averted eyes and looked at the horizon bashfully under Paimon's judging eyes.

She really better had a little talk with her about Lumine's treatment towards her mother... Before something else came to her mind.

"Mom... There is something Paimon wants to ask your help with!" She excitedly chirped as she got out of your hold and made a flip, kicking her legs as you laughed out at her energy. It wasn't every day that she would ask something from you, especially that happily as if her request was a bright idea.

"Of course, darling of mine. What is it?"

"It's about Ga-Ming and his family!"

Lumine's smile froze on her face as she nervously looked at Paimon, fiddling with her fingers while hinting at her to stop, to which Paimon ignored. "I don't think it is our place to do something about his family, Paimon."

It wasn't that she didn't want to help him, she did. She already loved Ga-Ming and his energetic bursts, how he was always ready to lend a helping hand. She already considered him to be a friend and as his friend, of course she wanted him to be happy.

She knew the value of family more than anyone else, especially after loosing it, but... She was also aware that some things were supposed to stay between family and solved by them, not by some outsiders.

However, it seemed that Paimon had other ideas. As she started to reject Lumine's idea, saying how much he helped them and gave them and that they had to repay back some way, you raised a brow in question at their banter.

You already had a brief idea of what was going on with his family, courtesy of having 15 children directly related to you with different personalities, and what the problem between the father and son was, but it wouldn't hurt to hear it from them.

"Do you mean his father, sweetheart?"

She nods enthusiastically when Lumine budges in to cut her talk. "Yes, Y/N... But I do think that his problem runs a little bit deeper than we can help him with..."

You nodded at her understandingly, knowing the miscommunication going on has been prolonged far longer than it was necessary. Children often didn't notice much, didn't accept or wanted to accept their parents' expectations of them. They wanted to fly with their own wings, even if it could hurt them at first.

The parents didn't make it easy for them either and most of the times... They didn't want to accept their children wanting to go away and be themselves.

And as a result, both sides would drift apart until the other saw from their point of view, not caring that one wanted freedom and the other wanted safety and security for the other, even if it ended with their child angry at them. As long as they were safe and sound to do so... It was all that would matter, even if it seemed like a disrespect in the eyes of the child.

The stubborness of each side would only result in a distance that would severe the bond more and more with each passing day.

Perhaps... All they needed was a little nudge for them to see what both sides were loosing while they were drowning in their own stubborness?

"You are right, Lumine... However, there is nothing that could not be changed with a little help and a nudge towards the right." You hum with a hand over your chin, forefinger tapping your cheek in thought as you cross your arms over your chest. You soon broke out in a smile, having made your mind as you happily made a little jump.

"I shall help you two achieve your goal! The New Year is coming up and I do not wish any of my children to enter a new year full of new chances while being sad and alone."

You would make sure of that.

[toboldlygohome]

"I'm not giving up on you!"

Leonard McCoy X Reader

Summary: Following a terrible attack on the Enterprise, Dr. McCoy does everything he can to save the heavily-injured reader.

Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy

Warning(s): Wounds, Death, Implied violence, Ends in fluff

Dr. McCoy carefully navigated the sea of bodies, careful not to step on any one of them. The Enterprise had been boarded little more than thirty minutes ago. Bones followed the path of destruction, hoping to find some survivors. No such luck.

McCoy scanned every body for signs of life, but yielded no results. He grimaced and trudged onward. He hated this feeling of powerlessness. So many good people were dead and there was nothing he could do about it. If only he had gotten down here sooner, maybe there wouldn't be so many casualties.

Leonard rounded a corner and was disappointed to find even more bodies strewn all over the floor. But amidst the flashing red lights, he saw you. You were leaned against the wall, blood staining your blue uniform. His tricorder picked up your heartbeat and he immediately hurried to your side.

"Hey, can you hear me?" He asked, snapping his fingers near your ear. Much to his surprise, you slowly opened your eyes.

He couldn't believe you were alive, let alone conscious. Your arm was a mangled mess of burns, you had a massive laceration in your lower abdomen, you were sitting in a pool of your own blood, and you had a terrible concussion. Your groan came out as more of a choked gurgle.

Leonard wasted no time in prepping a hypo to ease your pain. "Can you speak?"

"Yeah," You managed weakly.

"That's good. That's really good. Can you tell me where it hurts?" He asked.

"It hurts everywhere," you murmured.

"Perfect."

"Perfect?" You asked.

"It means you still have feeling in your limbs. That's a really good sign," Bones jabbed the hypo into your arm and started digging into his bag. He had to get you stable if you were going to have any hope of surviving this. "I'm Dr. Leonard McCoy. Can you tell me your name darlin'?" He asked, trying to ease you into a sense of calm.

"Ensign Y/N Y/L/N. Biology department."

"On, I know about you, you're the one who wrote that dissertation on the possible medical uses of Aldebaran Serpent venom. You graduated top of your class in the starfleet academy. I heard you've got a promotion coming up." Leonard said, hoping to keep your mind alert. He didn't want you passing out with that concussion, not until he was sure there wasn't some internal bleeding going on that his scanners weren't picking up.

"Yeah, if I make it that far..."

"You're gonna make it, trust me." He swallowed. You could see it in his face. The chances of you living weren't very high.

"You're a terrible liar doctor McCoy...I'm gonna die here, aren't I?" You whispered.

"I brought the captain back from the dead using the blood of a homicidal maniac. I've performed greater miracles than this. You ain't gonna die, not if I have anything to say about it." He said, already working to disinfect the gaping wound in your stomach. "Just keep talking to me, can you do that?"

"I'll try..." You struggled to keep your eyes open. "I-I... I smell something burning..."

"Don't worry about that." Leonard said firmly. "Just...tell me about..." He grasped for a topic that wasn't your maimed body or the smell of burning hair. "Tell me about home. What's your family like?" Leonard started to autosuture the laceration.

You ignored his question and tilted your head down to look down at the damage. Bones grabbed your face and forced your eyes up to his. "Don't look at it. Just look at me, okay?"

"Mkay...nice face at least." You smiled weakly.

"Oh?" he got back to his work, but kept talking. "I've always been told I got a face only a mother could love. What's so nice about it?" He asked.

"You have pretty eyes... and..." You lost your train of thought.

"And what darlin'?"

"Huh?"

"I got pretty eyes and what?" he asked, fighting against the knot appearing in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know you, but he'd like to. You were a tough cookie and he respected the hell out of it. He could see it in your eyes. You still had so much to offer the world... the universe. He couldn't let you die like this. He wouldn't let you die like this.

"Oh...I like your...your forehead wrinkles...makes you look distinguished," you attempted another smile.

"Gotta say sweetheart, that might just be the nicest compliment I've ever received." Leonard met your gaze for just a moment before returning to his task.

"Well, I've got more where that came from..." You leaned your head against the wall and looked at the ceiling. "...Might throw up..."

"If you feel like you are, just tell me. Okay darlin'?"

"Mkay..."

You both fell into silence and Leonard labored to think of some way to get you talking again. The autosuture wasn't working fast enough for his liking. He still had about two and a half inches to go. If he didn't work fast enough, you were gonna die.

"...Everything's all fuzzy. Cold." You murmured. A low rumble echoed through the halls as if punctuating your dark statement.

"I bet. You lost a lot of blood, but you'll be okay." Leonard clenched his jaw.

"There are others...gotta help the others McCoy. I'm a lost cause."

"You are no such thing. I'm saving you dammit." He didn't have the heart to tell you the other people in the hallway were already dead. A sudden, sharp jolt shook the ship. Leonard grunted as he tried not to fall into you.

"I'm gonna die... I never even got to ask out that doctor. Never had the guts..." You mumbled, eyes struggling to focus on anything.

"What doctor?" Leonard asked as he continued closing you up.

"Y'know. The grumpy one." You said.

Leonard's expression darkened. He was trying dammit, but not nearly hard enough. You were growing delirious. You didn't even realize what you were admitting to him. Your eyes fluttered closed, but you kept talking.

"I don't really know him, but he saved a friend of mine once... He's uh..." You gathered your thoughts. "He's real smart. So dedicated to his patients. I really admire that... Also got this dry sense of humor, and a really handsome voice. I wouldn't have minded taking him out sometime. Buying him flowers." You hummed.

"He's the kind of guy you bring home to mama, I think...Well...My mama at least." You looked at Leonard, eyes swimming with grief. "I'm not scared. You have to tell her for me. That I wasn't scared...I have people back at home. Can you tell them I love them?" You whispered, just as Leonard finished closing your abdominal wound.

Leonard breathed a sigh of relief as he started wrapping you with a bandage. "You're gonna tell them yourself darlin'. You're gonna make it, you know why? Because you're strong. Resilient as a rubber band." He tied off the bandage and started going to work on your arm. "I'm gonna get you stable and we'll get down to the medbay, then you'll make a swift and miraculous recovery, just in time for you to earn the rank of Lieutenant. How does that sound?"

"..." You didn't respond.

"Y/N?" He asked. Your eyes were closed. Your heartbeat was growing fainter by the second. "No No. Dammit, come on! I'm not giving up on you!" He emptied hypos into your arms and legs. A cocktail of medicines were brewing inside of you, fighting to keep your heart beating. He waited with baited breath for your readings to change on his tricorder.

Eventually, your heartbeat grew stronger and your breathing deeper. Then, to his astonishment, you opened your eyes again.

"Welcome back, you gave me a start there." Leonard flashed a relieved smile.

"Sorry...didn't mean to fall asleep," You smiled back.

Suddenly, the red lights turned off and the hallway lit up in its usual bright white light.

"I know darlin'. You're awake now, that's what matters." He pulled out his communicator. "Nurse Chapel, do they have the bastards detained?... Good. I need a stretcher on deck 15, as well as a recovery team. Prep the protoplaser and the burn chamber for the arrival of ensign Y/L/N." After her confirmation, he hung up and pointed his scanner down the hallway to see if there were any more heartbeats. Nothing.

Bones sighed and hung his head. The bastards were thorough, he had to give them that. He found only one survivor out of how many hallways? He was curious about how the security team managed to take them down, but that would be a conversation for a different time.

"Goddamned bloodthirsty space beasts..." He hissed.

"Tell me about it," you chuckled. "Certainly did a number on me, huh?"

"How are you feeling?" Leonard leaned against the wall beside you.

"Numb all over... I suspect you had something to do with that?" You turned your head to look at him.

"I injected you with a hypo for pain relief right when I found you." He met your eyes.

"Funny. I don't think I remember that."

"You're definitely on the loopy side. Can't tell if it's from the blood loss or an adverse reaction to the medicine, but we'll figure all that out soon."

"You can go now. Someone's coming to get me right?"

"You ain't getting rid of me that easily. I'm staying with you until your stretcher arrives." He crossed his arms.

"But there's got to be others that need help too, right?" You closed your eyes. "I'm fine, you should help them."

"It's against protocol to leave a critical patient alone. I'm not leaving until your ride arrives." Just then, he heard the sound of the hover-stretcher. "Speak of the devil, it's about goddamned time." He stood and addressed the two nurses. He spoke to them in hushed medical lingo. You had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn't sound good.

Leonard helped load you onto the stretcher. "I'm passing you off to Nurse Bell and Nurse Valinsky. They're going to take great care of you."

"As opposed to you taking bad care of me?" You smiled tiredly.

"Very funny," He smirked. "I'll catch up with you soon. Don't miss my face too much, you hear?"

"You're asking for the impossible, Dr. McCoy," You joked. The nurses guided you down the hall and around the corner. Leonard stared out at the crowded hallway, hoping his recovery team would arrive soon. Until then, he would just have to look for living patients on his own.

A doctor's work is never done.

~~~

When you awoke, you felt heavy. It was dim in the medbay and all was quiet, save for the occasional beeping of the biobed. You attempted to sit up, but winced the moment you put pressure on your arm. From the shoulder down, your limb was covered in bandages. You felt a deep ache all the way through your body and decided it was best to lay back down.

You tried to remember how you ended up here, but everything after the initial attack was a blur. You remembered the grumpy doctor, you remembered him mentioning your dissertation, he said something about pretty eyes, and you remember being so tired, but trying so hard to focus on him.

You looked around the room, hoping there might be a nurse nearby. Instead you found a room full of people sleeping in biobeds. There was a light on in the office at the end of the room, but you had no way of knowing if there was actually someone inside.

You scanned the controls to your left until you found a call button. Once you pressed it, you heard shuffling in the office. Much to your surprise, Dr. McCoy came shambling out.

"It's about time you woke up," Leonard took a look on your screen to check all your vitals. As you watched him, the events of your last encounter came flooding back. Distinguished forehead wrinkles? Seriously?

"Your heart-rate is kicking up," Bones smirked "Is that because of me?" He joked.

You rolled your eyes, "how long was I out?"

"About forty-eight hours."

"Two days?!"

"Better keep it down darlin'. Don't want to wake the neighbors." He slowly raised the bed into a sitting position and handed you some water.

"Thanks," you said hoarsely, "I didn't even realize I was thirsty."

"That's what I'm here for." He grunted as he copied some data from your biobed to his PADD.

"Bringing me water?"

"Keeping you from dying of dehydration," Bones corrected.

"Aw, and here I thought I had my own personal butler," you smiled and sipped your water. 'He really does have pretty eyes,' you thought while watching him work. Who were you kidding? It wasn't just his eyes that were pretty, it was all of him. You cleared your throat and took another sip. "Anyway, what are you doing here so late? I didn't think you worked gamma shift."

"I normally don't, but there are a lot of reports to file and not a lot of time to do it."

"That bad huh?...How many dead?" You asked softly.

"Fifty-six," Leonard sniffed pulled out his kit.

"Damn... and what about the pirates?"

"In custody back at Yorktown." Leonard administered a hypo into your arm. The soreness melted away almost immediately, but the ache in your chest didn't.

"I would have been one of them if it weren't for you..." You whispered. "You didn't give up... even when you should have."

"Any doctor worth his salt wouldn't give up on the likes of you, not when you were so keen on living. Ain't seen nothing like it in a long time. Your body just kept going long after it should have shut down." Bones explained, "And you kept telling me it was hopeless, but I could tell you were hoping for a miracle."

"So you gave me one," You smiled up at him.

"I told you I would. They don't say I have legendary hands for nothin'," McCoy smirked.

"Still, thank you for not giving up on me," you laughed. "I definitely owe you one."

"Ask out that doctor of yours and we'll call it even," Leonard spoke so casually, you nearly didn't register what it was he just said.

"I-I- my what?" You asked, dumbfounded. Your heart-rate picked up again and Leonard couldn't mask his amusement.

"You should get some rest, Nurse Chapel will be by in a few hours with some food for you. We're putting you on a soft food diet until your internal wounds heal some more. If you need anything before then, you know where the call button is." Bones started back to his office, but stopped just short.

"Oh, and Y/N?"

"Y-Yeah?"

Leonard sent you a smug look. "I like daisies," He said before disappearing behind the door.

You laughed and rested your head on your pillow. 'Daisies huh?' You thought to yourself. You weren't sure how you were gonna pull that off this far from Earth, but if Dr. McCoy could perform miracles, why couldn't you? Of course, the flowers would have to wait until you were released from medical care. You didn't mind too much though, Dr. McCoy was going to be there to take care of you.

And he wasn't giving up on you anytime soon.

....................

Taglist: @shadowbriar

If you want to be added to my taglist, feel free to reach out!

Thank you for reading!

[sheerfreesia007]

Photographic Evidence

Title: Photographic Evidence

Fandom: Stray Kids

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​

Words: 891

Warnings: Mention of death, blood, murder

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien

He stares at the scene in front of him with a soft frown painted across his face, his eyes darting around the blood trails that lead to their victim who’s splayed out on display in a haphazard way. He’s trying to memorize the scene but there’s just so much to take in that it’s near impossible for him to do. Turning to one of the patrol officers he barks out an irritated question.

“Is CSI on the way?” he snaps and the patrol officer widens his eyes slightly before quickly nodding his head as an answer. Sighing loudly he crosses his arms over his chest and cocks his hip out as he takes in the scene once more.

“Don’t get your panties all twisted, I just got here.” comes the sarcastic tone from behind him and he feels his chest lift with happiness at your arrival. He turns his head to watch you set your CSI case on the floor next to the patrol officer before you quickly survey the scene in front of you. He always loves to watch you work, your attention to detail and how meticulous you are in your work was what originally drew him to you all those years ago when he was a patrol officer.

“Well get in here I need my favorite CSI to document the scene.” he says eagerly and slightly impatiently causing you to roll your eyes at him. He grins knowingly at you as you scoff before taking out your camera and begin to take pictures of the scene. He watches you as you slowly move about the room snapping photos of everything so that the Homicide detectives would be able to see everything even after the scene was cleaned up. He begins to unconsciously follow you around the scene, carefully stepping where you step so that he doesn’t disrupt anything. He knows you can feel him behind you as he follows you, almost becoming something akin to a shadow.

“So now I’m just your favorite CSI?” you ask him teasingly over your shoulder and he scoffs softly at your joke.

“Darling, you know you’re my only CSI.” he responds to you as he steps closer to you needing to feel closer to you. “No one can compare to you.” he whispers in your ear and you send him a bright happy grin before you wink at him as you raise your camera to your eye once more and snap another picture. He feels the happiness burst in his chest at your lowkey flirting before he turns back to the scene. “So do you see anything that jumps out at you?” he asks curiously, wanting to see you saw something that he hadn’t picked on yet.

“Nothing yet Detective Hwang.” you tell him softly before turning swiftly only to come face to face with him. You huff softly at his proximity and press a hand to his chest to push him back out of your space. He frowns softly and leans against your hand making you plant one of your feet behind you before you look up at him. He smirks down at you suddenly and you scoff softly at him before rolling your eyes. “Give me space Detective.” you warn him and his smirk widens at your words.

“You weren’t saying that last night sweetheart.” he teases you softly so that only you can hear.

“Not at work.” you scold him and guilt flashes quickly across his mind before he nods his head and takes a step back to let you pass him. But as you pass him he leans down close to your ear to whisper into it sultrily.

“What time are you gonna be home tonight CSI Hwang?” he watches delightedly as your cheeks heat with a pretty blush.

“Hopefully six. But if you keep pushing it right now I’ll make you wait.” you answer him scornfully and he smirks wickedly at you.

“You wouldn’t dare after last night.” he teases you and you roll your eyes at him.

“Keep it in your pants Hwang. We’re working.” you remind him hastily and he chuckles softly.

“Unfortunately.” he responds before moving back over to the victim as a bloody shoe print had caught his eye and he wanted to take a closer look at it. “Hey CSI Hwang? Can you take a photo of this for me? I need to know the shoe size.” he asked before turning to look at you from his crouched position. His eyes took you in as you walked over to him and pulled out an l square ruler from your vest and placed it down next to the shoeprint before moving back to take the picture a few times before removing the ruler and taking some more pictures.

“Alright, the other CSIs should be on their way to come collect the evidence here. I’ll get back to the office and start downloading the photos for you.” you informed him and he nodded his head as he stood up and turned to you. “See you later Detective Hwang.” you said teasingly to him and he smirked before pecking a kiss to your cheek quickly.

“See you at home darling.” he replied before turning back to the scene already as his mind began to race with possible ideas of what had happened to the victim.

[mushroomwoods]

Love me, Love me not

For the hero that you once thought that you knew, was never who he portrayed himself as, but really, did you expect that if the chains that bound him to good were to break, he would stay as the same old him?

character — Sky (and a hint of Zelda), romantic.

cw — a tadbit of self-aware!sky+zelda, +yandereish behaviour, homicide attempt..?

what a little chat about the absolutely terrifying self aware sky with the dearest @wayfayrr did iaksjdksnd. sky being the good n little ol' him is good, but sky being an absolute menace just because he knows he can? oh dear... (also tagging @yourlocaltreesimp, since they're one of the biggest sky simps I've ever seen).

edit 1: i don't condone unhealthy behaviour or toxic relationships, but i thought it'd be interesting to note that the feelings i portray in my yandere content are usually more love related than in this one. for this short I'm not sure, but i wouldn't call sky feelings “love”, but something more akin to... the desire you feel for something rare. yeah, i guess it fits.

It hadn't been long since you arrived at the skyloftian Hyrule and of course Sky was excited, you thought it was strange that Sky would totally disregard his best friend, possibly a past lover, presence to run straight to his loft, but from what he had told you what a skyloftian had with their loft was something akin to a soul bond, and from the woman's nonchalant reaction, maybe it wasn't that strange.

“Link is really attached to Crimson, as Crimson is as attached to him.” Zelda said, distant, while you watched him making a few rounds above the city.

You nodded, eyes fixated on the performance, though you could feel the woman soft eyes turning to you, you said nothing on her behaviour even as she smiled, shaking her head slightly and then going away.

It was only a few minutes after Zelda left, that Sky came back to the ground, his smile saccharine sweet as he naturally let his arms fall around your shoulders.

“It's too bad you didn't want to come with me... I'm sure Crimson would like you too.” He sighed contently against your neck, before looking into your eyes.

“Still, I'd rather not go. But I'm not against meeting her.” He agreed at the idea, quickly talking about how the both of you could go tomorrow to preen her since it had been a long time since he did it.

You followed behind his steps as he lead you to the meeting spot at the central plaza, quiet as you tried to push away the thoughts intruding on your peaceful mind.

The way his smile seemed so strained when near his friends, the way the other knights avoided his gaze, the way even the shopkeepers would never against his offers.

It wasn't until way past midnight that your suspicions were confirmed.

Everyone was already sleeping, vacating a few empty lodgings they had for the knights in training.

The air up in the Skyloft was too thin and cool for your liking and you could barely close your eyes without getting uncomfortable, so you went for a breather down the halls.

You could hear voices by the end of the dark corridor, recognising Sky soft tone you were about to call him out, but a loud thud resounding at quiet ambience.

You stopped.

A hitched breath and a low growl. You could see the ashen blonde back turned to you, a familiar figure knelt on the floor in front of him, vivid red hair far more disheveled than when you had seen earlier that day. Groose.

“It was too bad what happened to Zelda...” Sky started, a certain lilt to his voice that made Groose tremble, eyes falling to the floor. “I really expected you'd know better than to talk like that after what happened.” His voice was eerily calm.

“I didn't—” The red-haired started, but his breath was caught in his throat as the sole of Sky's boot made contact with his chest, no real impact. A threat.

“Groose. I gave you a warning before going away. I know you're stupid, but you should at least try to remember what other people say, shouldn't you?” No answer, but it seemed exactly what Sky was expecting as he huffed, getting his foot out of the man's chest.

“This is my last warning, next time you look at something of mine I will really let you free fall out of the isle without your dear companion to save you. Don't you ever think of looking at my deity if you want to keep those foul eyes of yours.” The... hero, continued, voice sweet as always and that was your cue to leave.

You turned on your heels, not looking back. That wasn't real, this was just a joke, he would never be like that, a monster, but even then, you could swear you saw him looking back at you, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You ran to your room, locking the door behind you and hiding inside the mattresses.

It wasn't real, it wasn't real, it wasn't real, it—

Knock knock.

He was at your door. You stayed quiet, not moving a muscle in fear the person outside would hear. Another knock. You didn't move. And then you heard steps fading away, only then sighing in relief.

Click.

The door unlocked and you frooze in place, shutting your eyes to feign sleep. You couldn't even notice how much you were trembling.

“[Name]..?” You heard his voice, steps approaching the bed until it stopped beside you. “Poor thing. Must've been so tired.” The mattress dipped and his hand brushed against your cheeks, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. “My sweet little [name], so frail...” His voice grew closer and you could feel his breath fanning over your face “I know you're awake, my dear.”

Your eyes shot open, but before you could scramble away from him, his hands locked on your forearms, pressing you tightly against the bed, a twisted smile spreading across his face, manic gaze focused on you, you, you.

“Did you—” You gasped for air, not even noticing how you had stopped breathing. “Did you push Zelda..?” You voice died, and his looked melted into something comforting.

He didn't, did he? It was a misunderstanding. He was just mad earlier. You held your hopes while staring at him.

“It was needed, my dear.” He slowly sunk into your space, arms wrapping around you a little too tightly for comfort. “She understood me, she accepted it, she knows that fake is not our goddess. But you...” His darkened eyes looked up to you, from the shoulder he rested his head on. “Our deity, so supreme above us, foolishly egoistical being”

It was strange seeing Sky, the pure image of calmness so... frantic, as if his mind was elsewhere. It was an alien feeling, uncomfortable and making your throat clog with something heavy.

You slowly moved your hands to try and rub at his back in a form of comfort, he easily accepted the touch, closing his eyes, but before you could question him on his behaviour, he started talking again.

“My deity, please, please, don't ever say you'll leave me. Never again, please, allow me to be selfish this once.” His grip tightened. “I don't know what I will do if you say something like that again.”

It all clicked when he said that. The last time you picked it up, too tired to pass through even the turorial. You thought it was strange that things had proceded too quickly, but maybe your memory was faulty. You shuddered when he huffed a laugh, too dark in comparison to his usual, as his hands ran up your back.

“Wait, Sky— I mean, Link, I never meant it like that, I—” A sharp inhale of breath forced you to cut your own words. “W- What's this?”

You could feel warm blood oozing from your right ear, a new earring attached to it. He finally let you from his hold, and your hands instantly flew to the newest addition, feeling a soft brush against your hands. A bloody red feather.

You shot a sharp glare to him, to which he shrugged, letting another earring hang on his hands. This one a vibrant tone of blue, that equally hung from one of his pierced ears. He smiled in mock compassion.

“Come on, dear, I have to finish putting it on you.” Our claim on you.

[shrimplymoray]

After a while of trying, I ended up uninstalling Twitter again. That app is not for me lmao.

On the other hand, though, I am feeling quirky and want to make a new HCs post of creepypasta. So...

Creepypasta characters soft spots*

Featuring: Jeff the Killer, Jane Everlasting, Nina the Killer, Homicidal Liu, Sully, BEN, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Laughing Jill, Candy Pop, Jason the Toymaker

* bear in mind I make them a tad bit fucked up in the head, so beware (though it IS Creepypasta)

Tw: slightly graphic canibalism description, mentions of abandonment trauma, canon like control freakiness on Jason's part

Jeff The Killer - expressiveness and not being easily intimidated

Jeff is a pretty... Expressive guy, to not say a huge asshole with a big ego. And even though he might not say it, he does admire someone being expressive. It took him a long time (and a mental breakdown) to start expressing himself how he wanted to. If he meets someone that is expressive be it verbally or physically, he will end up circling around them more often than others.

Hand in hand with that, if the person is not easily intimidated and has the courage to talk him out of his mean comments, he might as well ask to be friends with them. As much as he denies it, he enjoys not scaring someone by being himself from time to time.

Jane Everlasting - housekeeping skills and good music taste

Jane is not the easiest person to get along with. However, if you know how to work a stove, and knows that x product is better at cleaning windows than y, she finds than entertaining. She misses Mary so much, and having someone that reminds her of Mary, it warms her on the inside.

This is more of her being a bit of a nitpick, but she despises having to deal with screamo or those techno songs. She deals with it too much from the others, so having the chance to listen to classic romantic ballads, or some soft Jazz while reading a book, by her fave person's side, and not having a complaint at all? That's a dream. One that seems so far away to her reality, being near so many emos

Nina the Killer - foot on earth and alternative fashion

If you stayed even 5 minutes with Nina, you would understand why she appreciates someone hard on reality. Nina is easily enthusiastic and also impulsive as fuck. So having someone to keep her from breaking the whole house down, or to make sure she doesn't throw someone out of the second floor window, it really helps her out in the end, and she knows it.

Nina, although she is slowly getting better at keeping this down, is still a bit obsessed with Jeff, so alternative styles like emo and her beloved Scene style, it makes her feel like she is right up her alley. She would pick matching fits for you two, and also make a whole blog just for pictures of you two with very 2000s core stuff. Plus: hot topic dates.

Homicidal Liu - respectfulness and good cooking skills

Liu has gone through a lot of traumatic events, all his life. Some he holds the memories, after alter fusion, and others... Not so much. But what he does know is that disrespect towards his person, and what he has gone through, is something he doesn't want to go through never again. So being respectful, in the sense of not narrowing him to DID guy, or to murderer, it makes him genuinely happy.

Liu misses his family, even though it wasn't the best family. It's been 11 years since he lost all his family, so sometimes he will try cooking food that his parents used to make. However he... Is not the best cook. He tries, he really does, but it's not his thing. So having someone put the time and effort to do this small act, of cooking him the food that he misses since a teen, it makes him have butterflies. Plus, seeing his lover in an apron sounds cute in his mind.

Sully - strong morals and dark humor

Sully may share a body with Liu, but he is still his own person, as an alter. And most importantly he is the system protector. It is his role to make sure no more trauma is suffered. So, having a lover that understand that and agrees with him, it is a sight to behold to him. And most importantly, having someone that understands and respects the boundaries he puts, which are many, is important for him.

Now... The system is rather small, and so Sully is a trauma holder alter. But... His method of coping with that trauma is mostly through dark humor. Jokes about his trauma done by him or the body, is the way he knows how to cope and, in his eyes, not turn into a monster like Jeff, which he despises. Having someone letting him indulge in his not healthy but necessary coping mechanism, and even joking around with their own problems, it ends up in a great pair for him.

B.E.N._drowned - Sass, nerdiness and night owl

BEN is not really a human, and although he sometimes can be very human like due to the Moonchildren Souls, the one in control is still the Behavioral Environment Network. So he has the power to be as mean as he wants and not feel remorse. Though as a behavioral AI, he can react in many ways depending what his code finds most fitting. He didn't start liking sass, but after being around Jeff and collecting data to act based on that, besides the souls, he ended up sassy, and enjoys now having sass thrown back at him. It is a familiar environment, which is something he sometimes need.

He is based around on TLOZ, and his souls had that common interest besides other games, so of course he wants a gamer to fit with him. He doesn't sleep, so having someone also be a night owl and stay the whole night spending time with him, letting him learn their functions and behavior, it makes him enthusiastic, as much as malevolent code can be.

Eyeless Jack - Patience and a hard stomach

Jack, different than a lot of the others, didn't want to be here at first. And as such he isn't the easiest to approach, sometimes being plainly reclusive, and others being aggressive. Having patience but still perseverance to approach him at his own time, and let things go in his time, it makes him trust you even more.

Jack, as we all know, is a human eating being. Not sure cannibal is the right term since he isn't a human anymore, but I'll use it for now. As a cannibal, it is not easy to be around him sometimes. He is not afraid to eat in front of others if needed, or to harvest organs out of a human carcass. If you can endure at least the putrid smell of organs and blood, than you will find EJ to not be he worst to be around.

Laughing Jack - playfulness and clingyness

LJ is, as we all know I assume, a clown! So what would I clown like to be around? People who know how to have fun, of course! Playful battering, joking around, a good sense for a performance, this are all things that, summed by playfulness, make Jack feel alive. The feeling of succeeding at making his lover laugh till their cheeks turn red, it is a sight to behold to him, so having a good sense of playfulness makes things a lot easier.

On the other hand, Jack was once abandoned for years in his toy box. He grew to feel lonely, sometimes even around others. Having someone being close to him, even when not the best option to do so, and the feeling of being wanted all times. It does magic to the clown.

Laughing Jill - good sense of humor and optimism

Jill, like Jack, is a big clown lady and as such, she loves to make people laugh and have fun! She isn't the fondest of the more mean plays, but she does love striking jokes around, so having a good sense of humor is the best option of a pair for her!

Although she was made to be happy and make others happy, she can have negative emotions too. But having someone that will make sure to let her know that there is light at the end of the tunnel, and give her the care she gives to others, it is truly special for her.

Candy Pop - chaotic nature and being laid back

Candy is to an extent a genie like entity. And as such, they love to bring chaos, and distort stuff to their amusement. And as such, having someone that matches their personality is what they want. C'mon, who doesn't want to see what can happen if they inflate their head like a balloon? I do.

As such, someone strict to the rules, and someone that wants them to be in line at all times bore them if not anger them. They need some semblance of freedom. Being laid back, doing your stuff when they do theirs, and uniting forces to end get out of trouble, that's love to them.

Jason the Toymaker - size difference and art appreciation

Jason is someone that likes to feel in control of any and all situation. He is a manipulators, so making sure he is the one up top, it's what he wants ever and ever. Having someone smaller than him, it gives him a semblance of control, even if only illusory. It plays in his control freakiness.

As a toymaker, he is an artisan. He loves to create intricate toys, which are pieces of art in itself. Having someone that appreciates it and praises him for it, it boosts his already inflated ego. He might plainly squeeze you for your praises, as a thank you.

That's all I got for now, might do some others plus the proxies on another post.

Reminder that it is cool if you don't agree or like these, y'all can have your own opinions and it is very valid! This is how I like the characters (aka sick in the head).

[pascaloverx]

NO LIGHT

SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I’d like to ask for your engagement with this chapter. I’m still deciding whether we’ll soon say goodbye to this fanfic or if I should continue it, and your opinion would be very important.

SEVEN

EIGHT

That day, Steve managed to politely rid you of your mother and her homicidal husband. Alexander Pierce had probed several times about your relationship with Steve Rogers, as if seeking confirmation that it was genuine. His suspicion was palpable. Your mother, on the other hand, only asked about Steve when inquiring about his earnings. Steve remained remarkably patient with her. Fortunately, a week after being stabbed, you were discharged from the hospital. Your stepfather even covered the hospital bill for you, which you begrudgingly admitted was fair—considering it was his fault you got stabbed in the first place.

"You know you didn’t have to do this, right?" you ask Steve, your voice soft as he carries you in his arms like a child. Embarrassed, your face is almost buried in his neck as he walks through the hospital parking lot.

Steve chuckled softly, his grip secure as he carried you, his steps steady despite your discomfort. "I know," he replied, his voice warm and reassuring, "but I couldn't let you walk all the way to the car in your condition."

You could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, steady and comforting, as if it was the only thing grounding you in that moment. His words lingered for a moment, the weight of the simple gesture settling in your chest. "Besides," he added, his voice dropping slightly, "I’m just making sure you’re safe. It’s the least I can do after everything."

"Having you carry me in your muscular arms won't keep me safe, Rogers. My mother's husband sent someone to stab me to send a message to Barnes. I don't feel safe at all right now. I don't even know who to trust or where to go. My mother knows where I live; she could show up with her villain husband, or he could send someone there, and I don't know anything about self-defense." Yes, all the idle time in the hospital, you could only think about how you were getting closer to death. All because you couldn’t resist your delicious crush.

Steve lets out a sigh, as if exhausted just from hearing you. Then he gently sets you down, as if trying to figure out what to say. "Calm down, Y/N," Steve murmurs, lightly touching your face. His touch is truly comforting, making your eyes briefly close. "You’re not going to like what I’m about to say, but we have a plan," Steve says as he opens the passenger door for you to get into the car. You’re confused, but you carefully enter the car. Steve helps you with your seatbelt before closing the door for you.

The scent of a perfume enters your nostrils, and it’s neither yours nor Steve’s. Then you realize what that means: Bucky must be hiding in the car. You try to open the door, but it's locked—Steve is probably making sure there’s nothing dangerous around. "Don't do anything stupid," Barnes’ voice echoes through the car.

"How could I do something stupid when you steal all the stupidity for yourself?" you murmur, not knowing if there are cameras in the parking lot.

Steve enters the car before Barnes can offer any response to your remark. Without warning, he leans in and kisses you. It’s a simple, discreet kiss, yet entirely unexpected. His lips linger on yours for a moment, the world narrowing to just the two of you. Then, the sound of Barnes clearing his throat from his hiding spot in the backseat shatters the moment.

"There are two men watching the car. They’ll probably keep their eyes on us until they’re sure Bucky isn’t here. James Buchanan Barnes, stay hidden no matter what," Steve says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Then, turning his attention to you, he adds, "Y/N, don’t turn around or look at Barnes unless you want to ruin everything. We’ll have to act like a couple until we get to my house." You compose yourself as Steve waits for confirmation of your cooperation. Straightening up, you lift your face towards him and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Barnes visibly irritated by the display.

“Let’s just get to your house, Rogers,” you say, playing along. You and Steve move as though you’re deeply in love, your actions convincing to any onlookers. Steve smirks, clearly amused by your attempt to provoke Barnes. In silence, the three of you make your way to Steve's house, the atmosphere in the car heavy with unspoken tension. The men who had been watching you at the hospital followed at a distance, though they eventually dropped off. When Steve pulls into his garage, you feel a wave of uncertainty about what to do next.

“I’m going to check inside and make sure everything’s safe. You two stay here,” Steve says, though his tone suggests he’s more eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere than genuinely worried about anyone’s safety. You take a deep breath, trying to suppress your growing irritation, focusing on staying calm as Steve exits the car.

“Using Steve to get to me won’t get us anywhere…” Barnes says from the back seat, his tone sharp as he shifts, sitting with his legs spread on the rear bench. You turn to look at him, irritation flashing in your eyes.

“You can’t lecture me about using others when you’ve been using me to get to my mother’s husband, Barnes. Actually, if you could just not say anything, that would be a favor,” you snap, your anger simmering as you leap to conclusions, fueled by the long hours of reflection during your hospital stay. Barnes narrows his eyes but doesn’t immediately respond, clearly weighing his words. The tension between you feels like it could ignite at any moment.

"Do I not even deserve the benefit of the doubt? Or is it easier for you to just hate me without reason?" Bucky asks, leaning closer to you. You can feel his warm breath against the back of your neck, but you stubbornly keep your gaze fixed forward, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Alright, tell me, Barnes. Tell me how you just coincidentally became a regular at my bakery while secretly involving yourself with my stepfather's affairs? Explain to me how you were likely on some mission all this time without ever showing it? And for what reason did someone stab me—to send you a damn message?" The words spill out of you, heavy with emotion. You've had a week to dwell on how your own naivety landed you in this mess, and the frustration in your voice is impossible to contain.

"Damn it, I can’t reveal things that would jeopardize everything I’ve fought for up until now. But I can promise you this—you’re not just another assignment to me. What we have is real, Y/N," Barnes says, his voice laden with sincerity, before pressing a soft kiss to your neck as if it could ease the tension between you. The warmth of his lips against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, but even that isn’t enough to erase the storm of doubt and anger swirling within you.

"I am far from pleased with what is happening right now. So let me make this clear: do whatever you need to ensure your little secret mission is a success. Use me, lie to me, do as you please. But beyond being a pawn in this twisted game between you and Alexander Pierce, I will be nothing else. If there was any chance of us having a relationship, it drowned days ago." You unfasten your seatbelt and turn to face Barnes, an act that feels like the worst possible decision as soon as you meet his gaze. His eyes, darker than before, seem to devour you entirely, pulling you into their intensity.

"You had your lips on my best friend just minutes ago to get under my skin, doll," Barnes says, his voice low and rough. "What we have is very much alive—you know it."

"You sound like a damn fool," you snap, almost biting Bucky. His smile appears, likely amused by your irritation, and then, to your surprise, he holds your face in his hands and plants a soft kiss on your lips.

"I won't give up on you, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself I'm the bad guy. I just need you to trust me, a little longer," he says, his lips still lightly brushing against yours.

"It will be a waste of your time if you insist on me because I don’t trust you, and I certainly won’t be returning any affection toward you anymore," you say, trying to convince yourself of this more than you truly feel. But honestly, you cannot allow Barnes to hold so much power over you.

"I don't need your affection, doll," Barnes says, then turns your face to the side, leaning close to your ear to whisper, "I need your desire, something much more intense than affection." You turn to face him, and he places his fingers under your lips, almost as if provoking you. However, you bite his fingers—not deeply enough to hurt, but enough to show him that you won't be vulnerable with him.

Steve appears before you and Bucky can continue this cat-and-mouse game. Even though Bucky’s expression after you bit his fingers was more of excitement than anger, Steve knocks on the car window and gestures for you both to get out. "Come on," Steve says impatiently, before walking into his house. You and Bucky get out of the car almost simultaneously, and as Bucky walks past you to circle the car and head into Steve’s house, his body brushes against yours. It feels like electricity sparks between you two. His eyes are on you.

“We’re not done here, just so you know,” he says, and you can’t tell if it's a threat or a promise. You smile back and respond, “Don’t fool yourself, Barnes; there’s nothing left here.”

He smiles as if he’s plotting something, but then in silence, you both walk into Steve's house, one after the other. Steve, who had been sitting, waiting for you to enter through the back door by the garage, stands up and helps you make your way to the living room, gently placing you on the couch. “You look tired. If you want, you can sleep in my room later,” Steve says, caressing your face gently. You nod in acknowledgment, giving a quiet confirmation.

"Should I give the couple some privacy?" Barnes asks after clearing his throat, looking at you and Steve with a judgmental expression.

"You should," both you and Steve respond in unison, and then share a laugh. Bucky's face tightens, his expression darkening.

“If you two have finished acting like children, let’s get to the matter at hand,” Steve says, his voice growing more serious as he leans forward, his posture tense. "We need to deal with Alexander Pierce before he manages to end us all. By now, I’m certain he’s already figured out that we’re involved with one another in some way. But you and I, Y/N, are still going to keep up the charade of being a couple, at least for now. There’s that charity ball your mother’s hosting, Y/N, where she invited us both. It’s the perfect opportunity to corner Pierce and force him to admit to all the awful things he’s done.” Steve’s words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything feels surreal. You look at him, your mind struggling to process the plan he’s suggesting. The idea of working alongside Bucky to confront your mother’s husband feels like something straight out of a nightmare.

“We’re going to kill him,” Bucky says without hesitation, his voice cold and final. He stands by the wall, his arms crossed, his eyes dark with determination. Your heart skips a beat, and you feel the weight of his words settle heavily over you. You and Steve exchange a look, one full of disbelief and concern. This wasn’t the path you had envisioned—this wasn’t the way to go about things.

“No!” you exclaim, your voice sharp with panic. The thought of resorting to murder, of becoming involved in something so dark, fills you with dread. "We can’t just kill him!” Bucky looks at you, his expression firm but understanding. He knows how deeply this situation affects you, knows that this is more than just a matter of strategy. But he also knows what’s at stake.

"I warned you it would be a bad idea to involve your girlfriend in this plan, Barnes," you are surprised by Natasha's entrance as she leans against the door while exchanging glances with Barnes. You feel a bit of jealousy and discomfort but turn on the couch to face Natasha.

"She’s been involved from the start, and you know that," Barnes says, looking seriously at Natasha before exchanging glances with you. It’s as if he’s trying to check something. "I have to agree with Bucky on this one. Without Y/N, it would be much more difficult to get close to Pierce without drawing attention. And it's completely natural for a civilian not to want to kill her own stepfather," Steve defends you while everyone looks at each other.

As the tense atmosphere in Rogers' living room intensifies, you realize you don't have much say in the matter. Sighing in frustration, you finally speak up, "Do what you think is best. Kill my mother’s husband, don't kill him. I don’t care. All I want is to go back to being a normal person. Which makes me the cliché of this action movie we're involved in. That being said, I’ll cooperate with whatever plan you have," you say, trying to sound as firm as possible.

Barnes looks at you as if he wants to embrace or comfort you, but instead, he straightens up, still leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed on you. "So the plan is simple. Natasha and I will set up an ambush for Pierce, while Steve and Y/N pretend to be a couple for everyone," Barnes says, his voice tinged with some discomfort. You look at him, unsure of what the discomfort in his tone means.

"Then let our plan begin," Steve says, his eyes fixed on Barnes, a heavy tension hanging between them. "Just to be clear, once we deal with Alexander Pierce, you’ll uphold your end of the bargain."

"Of course," Barnes replies with conviction, his voice steady. "As soon as I have Pierce, you’ll be free to take me into custody, Agent Rogers." You’re caught off guard by his words, your surprise evident as you look between the two men.

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 17 | Coffe and Calculations

“You know, if you throw your laptop across the room, it might make you feel better,”

summary: youve been in a spiral lately and decided to schedule a study session with Matt, while you were still struggling he had already finished all of his work but to not pressure you, he pretended to still have unfinished work by scribbling on a piece of paper but still keeping a close eye on you, asking if you need a break you didn’t want but secretly needed.

warnings: FLUFF & nothing else!

authors note: I have no idea what to put here at all 😭, I know fics have been coming a bit later than they used to but ive been pretty busy lately and not feeling the best but I still want to bring and put out some content for yall and hope you all understand, luv y’all sm and hope y’all enjoy this one

The library was a familiar safe space of silence, broken only by the soft tapping of keyboards and the occasional rustle of paper. I stared at my laptop screen, an endless amount of words and numbers blurring together as I tried to make sense of the textbook PDF open in front of me. My brain felt like it was running a hundred miles per hour yet I was nowhere near my destination. Matt sat across the table with a calm expression displayed on his face, his laptop closed and textbook casually stacked on top. I could see his eyes glancing between his phone and me, a mix of concentration and amusement dancing together across his features. He’d finished most of his work hours ago but was playing the role of the dedicated study buddy.

“Come on,” I muttered under my breath, rubbing my temples. “You can do this.” I could sense Matt’s gaze lingering longer than it usually did. He let out a soft chuckle and I glanced up, shooting him a glare. “What’s so funny?” “Just watching you work so hard. You look like you’re on a mission or maybe trapped in a really boring sci-fi show.” He smirked, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Very funny, Matt. I feel like I’m in a universe where deadlines are infinite and caffeine is running low.” I groaned, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. “I swear if I don’t finish this tonight, I might just lose it completely.”

He tilted his head, being in deep contemplation as if seriously considering my words. “You know, if you throw your laptop across the room, it might make you feel better,” he suggested, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But that might also be a good way to get kicked out of the library.” “Yeah and I’d hate to get banned for a laptop homicide,” I shot back, my frustration transferring into a laugh. The absurd of the thought lightened my mood even if only slightly. As I returned my focus to the screen, I could feel the weight of his attention. He was trying not to pressure me but his presence was both a comfort and an annoyance. “If you need a break, just say the word,” he said casually, still pretending to type away.

“I might just need a break like, right now,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. “But I’ve got to finish at least this section before I can afford to breathe.” “Okay, okay. But don’t think I’ll let you cook that stress away with late night ramen again,” he warned, waving his phone as if it were a weapon. “Last time, I swear, you nearly boiled the water dry while I was trying to figure out how to make instant noodles for dinner.” “Hey, those noodles were an experiment! I like to live dangerously,” I retorted, though I felt a small smile tugging at my lips. Judging by his expression I could tell he was fighting back a grin. “You’re brave for sure. But how about a quick break? Come on, just five minutes?” He was relentless, but not in a bad way. As I hesitated, he stood up and started doing some exaggerated stretches, arms reaching up dramatically while his legs did an awkward dance underneath the study table. His tricks were ridiculous but they always made me laugh. “Alright, you win. Five-minute break it is.” I admitted, shutting my laptop with a satisfying click.

“Now we’re talking!” He beamed, offering me a hand. As we moved to stand, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him. He might have been done with his work but he was doing something just as important, keeping me grounded and aware that I didn’t have to suffer through this alone. Even if he was doing it while pretending to work. In that library, surrounded by peers lost in their own worlds, we shared a moment, a let off from the overwhelming feeling of academic pressure. And in the middle of the chaos that was our college life, it was all I needed.

@hearts4werka |

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[sessakag]

Now all I can think about is Prey!Papa-Naruto because it would be the wildest funniest thing ever! Poor Hinata is probably trying to make sure her kids grow up to be good morally upstanding people and Naruto is just….Yeah 😬. Funnily enough this Naruto probably wouldn’t have as much of a contentious relationship with Boruto because there’s no way he’s putting work above spending time how he wants 😭. And as a Kawaki hater I’m pleased to say I don’t see this Naruto being altruistic enough to take in some random abused kid so really we’ve got my ideal version of the Uzumaki family 🫢. Anyway, I bet parent-teacher conferences and kiddy playdates and birthday parties are gonna be fun times 🤣. Speaking of bday parties happy early birthday! I hope it’ll be a fun one.

Daddy Prey!Naruto is the funniest thing ever, lol.

For sure, Naruto would spend time with his little mini-me. Who would stop him?

I feel like Boruto would be very aware that his father is a homicidal nutjob and spend his time trying to keep innocents out of harms way, but he does it in ways that are just as bad as his father, because of course, the apple doesn't fall that far from the tree, and that he has this huge blind spot to when his own inner crazy is starting to show, lol. And of course, mess with his mom or baby sister, well then, you'll have a hard time telling Naruto and Boruto apart at all🤭he'd justify his violence and the bodies in his closet because Prey!Narupapa taught him that delusion is just another way to say correct, and there's nothing wrong with customizing your own reality when it's convenient. He'd also spend so much time trying to undo Hima's worst tendencies their dad is teaching her in an effort to help his mom out, but ends up making it worse by teaching her "alternative" tendencies that are just as bad but much more slicker than his father's open bluntness, which ultimately, makes Hinata's job harder, lol. Poor lady, I can see her trying to explain the situation to her crazy husband. Hinata: I'm trying to make sure the kids have a moral compass, Naruto Naruto: The fuck they need that for?

I'll be honest, I really don't know all that much about Kawaki since I don't watch the show, but his design is very cool, and the clips I've seen of him on youtube I vibe with🤭but Naruto being altruistic and adopting a poor orphan? Not fuckin likely at all, lol. Prey!Naruto wouldn't care about any kids but his own🤷🏽‍♀️so you're all set for sure, lol.

Parent-teacher conferences would be lit af😂imagine Naruto's big buff tatted up self sitting in one of those itty bitty chairs at a table lower than his knees while the teacher tries to get him to understand that it's not a good thing that his little girl is drawing her classmates with their heads somewhere other than on their shoulders🤣he would be so insulted and have a very scary diatribe about why Hima's work is "art" not a "red flag". The teacher would resign the next day by the time he was done. Omg birthdays🙈One word: Pinata. Take that as you will, lmao!

And omg, I wanna write Prey!Naruto at a PTA meeting, lmao! And you'd think Hinata was the one that dragged him to it, but NO, he'd go on his own because he's a super paranoid bastard that needs to know what is going on in his orbit and that includes his hellspawns, and if he doesn't like what he hears he'll have to retire a few folks to ensure things are being run for the benefit of his offspring😂

Hima's not doing a kiddy playdate, study date, pretend date, any date. Over somebody else's dead body would Naruto allow his baby girl to do any sorta dating🤣hell naw, and don't @ him about it. End of discussion. Why? Because Naruto knows how guys are, and considering the things he does to Hima's mother on a regular basis, he's dead set on not letting any guy near his daughter until she's at least 80 years old, if she's lucky. Teen!Hima good luck trying to date or get a boyfriend😅especially since big brother's not gonna be too keen on the idea either, lol. And thank you for the early birthday wishes!!💕

I feel like this SOL Prey!Naruto family is set in stone to be a thing at this point, lmao. I'm certainly sold on it. I won't say whether or not I plan on Hinata getting knocked up in Prey, ya'll will have to wait and find out but I definitely think this should be a full SOL fic at this point, lol. It's just too good to pass up🤭

[the-grubdog]

Heritage Theory is Canon

I rise back from the dead (read: college kicking my ass) to say that MY THEORY WAS JUST CONFIRMED CANON. Look at the Japanese website:

Image transcript: The ruins and treasures of this planet, although different in size, are somehow similar to those we know, and sometimes even feel nostalgic. According to "The Shepard Complete History" written by the successive rescue team captains, the ancestors of the Kagiya [Giya] planet came from a "beautiful blue planet". If that was the planet PNF-404, we may have returned to our mother planet after a long time.

I WAS LITERALLY WORKING ON AN UPDATED VERSION OF MY THEORY POST WHEN THIS WAS POSTED.

I WAS RIGHT YA'LL.

I don't think I'll upload that updated version of the post, as it is (a) mostly unfinished and (b) kinda pointless now! Just know that evidence also comes from (all in Pikmin 4/related material):

Other parts of this same site

Olimar's notes on the Buddy Display, Heroic Shield, and Memory Fragment (Center Right)

A conversation you can have with Olimar post-final boss fight

Olimar's notes on the final boss

The Shepherd Family history

Also I want to share some more lore this site brings up. Because it also gives us some juicy Wraith Lore(tm) and some possible explanations for why some ships crash and others don't.

ALSO ALSO: This is all machine translated. If anyone has a human translated version, or is interested in making one, PLEASE let me know so I can reference it instead!

Image transcript: Consideration 1, small size, it doesn't have the engine power to escape the planet. Consideration 2, entering at a high speed, like a shooting star, it crashed into the planet at high speed.

Basically, the S.S. Beagle is small and entered at a high enough speed to escape the planet's grasp.

Image transcript: Unlike the space-time of the universe we know, it is believed that each time the stranded person observes the planet, it transitions to a different phase. The changes are so great that it's as if the planet itself has a will of its own.

This comes after a long description of how the planet changes every game. Just for further context.

Image transcript (with an error fixed for readability): Pikmin are always found near those lost in distress. They are friendly and devoted partners who cooperate with us to achieve our goals. However, isn't this a little too convenient? If the Pikmin are calling for a good leader to ensure the survival of their species and are preventing us from returning, it would be better to think that we are the ones being used. It falls into this category.

I don't think pikmin are evil, FAR from it... but they are still animals, animals that act to survive. You know? If pikmin ARE crashing the ships, then it's no more evil then how bulborbs eat pikmin to survive. Those are my two cents anyways.

Image transcript: According to Olimar, while inside the Amenyudo's [Plasm Wraith's] body, he dreamed of "giant humans similar to ourselves living with Pikmin and lots of other creatures." In addition, the roller-shaped stones of the Amebouzu [Water Wraith] have been found to contain minerals found in meteorites, which may suggest that they may be involved in the crash of the Dolphin. Perhaps they are dreaming of living with humans again and are causing the spaceship to crash?

WRAITH LORE. Also, note the translation of "human". There's a word on the site that the characters use to refer to themselves collectively, which the machine translator translates as "human". Based on me looking the word up on Jisho, an English-Japanese dictionary, this appears to be correct. However, as I don't know Japanese yet, I'll also clarify that "people" might also be a valid translation.

Anyways. Humans once lived with these weird creatures, wraiths and pikmin included. The wraiths missed us. Please ignore how they're also homicidal towards the starfolk.

Image transcript: One theory is that the planet meets the definition of a living organism, meaning that it is somehow beckoning us to it, and that everything we experience here is being orchestrated.

Planet is alive.

I have no idea how else to end this off.

But the planet is alive.

And it wants us back.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。APOLOGIES — SHIDOU RYUSEI.

✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationship, post argument make-up, annoying shidou as always

dating shidou is not easy, it takes maturity and patience and the will of god’s strongest soldier. in fact, most of the time, dating shidou means you’re constantly drifting in and out of being mad at him—which, right now, you’re quite mad.

“shidou ryusei, it is one am,” you glare, opening your door and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. he has a wolfish grin on his face—it’s cocky, and it widens as he stares you up and down in your little batman pajama pants. normally, you wouldn’t answer the door for someone you’re mad at, boyfriend or not, but shidou makes it hard to ignore with his incessant knocking.

you value your sleep—and more importantly, you value not being kicked from your apartment for noise complaints.

“aw, not the full government name,” he says slyly, and it only makes your blood pressure rise even more as you practically feel a vein pop.

“ryusei,” you warn. but he doesn’t pay attention, just as you expect. instead, he whistles lowly.

“i like the uniform. ‘s cute,” he cackles, eyeing the way your pants are hung a little lower on your hips from tossing around in bed, exposing a bit of skin that he drinks in shamelessly.

“thanks,” you say dryly, “they’re fuzzy and they were half off. now why are you here?”

“just visiting,” he shrugs.

“at one am?”

“it’s twelve fifty-two,” he corrects like he lives to defy you in every corner. and you bet he loves it—in fact, you know he’s positively enthused by the way your lips curl into a scowl and your eyes glare at him so fiercely. he stares down at the way your hips slant as your cross your arms, and he chuckles (which you think is almost passable as a giggle at the sheer giddiness.)

only shidou ryusei would be giddy from turning you halfway near homicidal, and only he would find the murderous glint in your eyes cute, wholesome.

“what do you want,” you say bluntly. he takes a step forward, and no matter how mad you are, you can’t help but stand painfully still as he leans closer, trying your damn hardest not to lean in when his hot breath fans over your face as he stares at you.

“your bed would be nice,” he hums, “preferably with you in it.”

he’s insufferable. everything he does and says makes you want to chuck bricks at his head and hope it fixes the loose wires he seems to have. but you don’t even get to finish saying, “fuck off, ryu—” before he cuts in.

“c’mon, don’t make me find a way in myself,” he curls his lips wickedly, like he’s got you in checkmate, like the cards have been in his favor all along as you play the game he’s written. but this time is different—this time, you’re determined not to let shidou take advantage of your weak heart through his rough and tough charms.

this time, you have a point to prove.

“i’m going to call the cops on you,” you threaten, “tell them i’m being harassed by a pink-haired freak.”

“i wouldn’t mind getting married in jail,” he grins, and you can practically make out the hearts in his eyes as he looks at you. it makes you want to slam the door in his face and go right back to bed. but that would only mean he’d go back to pounding on your door and singing your name, and you’re pretty sure you’re one more instance away from your neighbors collectively petitioning your eviction.

“i don’t want to marry you,” you hiss.

“don’t be like that,” he reaches to poke your cheek, “being inmates would be fun. we could give the officers a show as we fuck—”

“ryusei,” you hiss.

arguing with shidou always ends like this. he worms his way in and knocks down your walls without ever saying i’m sorry. he eases his way back into your heart with wide grins and cheeky comments and that charm of his that really shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. he never admits he’s wrong—but the way he tries harder the next time, makes sure he does it right, makes sure he’s better just for you, you know he cares. he never resolves things in the way you would consider the standard method of patching up after those unavoidable couple fights—but this time you decide it’s different. 

this time your feelings are hurt—really hurt. the kind of hurt that makes you wonder if you’re annoying. or if you talk a lot. or if he even wants to be around you. or that maybe you tire him out. or that the sound of your voice is grating. or that you overstep boundaries. 

this time there is no brushing the cracked shards of your heart under the rug and acting like he can kiss the pieces back together. this time you want to hear it from him—and if you have to stand at your door at ungodly hours of the morning and milk it out of him…well, you’re inclined to do that. 

“c’mon, babe. are you gonna keep me out here all night? lemme in—”

“you’re not coming in until you apologize,” you say bluntly. he groans, throws his head back, and slaps his hands over his face as he grumbles into his palms. 

“god, you’re killin’ me here. seriously, you know i didn’t mean it—”

“‘for fuck’s sake, i’m not your damn kid’,” you mock his voice from the other night, reminding him of his own words like he’s forgotten. he only stares at you with pursed lips and a blank face, but that doesn’t stop you, however, as you scowl at him and continue, “i don’t know. you seemed to really mean it when you said that.”

“i was just tired, you know that—”

“i was just trying to look out for you,” you don’t even seem like you’re listening to him anymore, poking a finger at his chest accusingly as he lets you, “i watch you sleep at unreasonable hours only to wake up before the sun itself—”

“yeah, and i told you i’d work on that—”

“and then i ask you, have you eaten today? and you know what you tell me? yeah, i had a protein shake this morning—”

“okay, and that was like one time—”

“and then i hear that you get into a fight, and lo and behold, you show up to my place with a bloody nose and cracked knuckles—”

“but you should’ve seen the other guy—”

“and then i come over to your apartment, and your laundry isn’t done, your dishes aren’t washed, and you have eighty million socks on the floor,” you start to put a finger up for everything you list, making him fiercely fight back a chuckle that he knows would seal his death wish, “and all i try to do is take care of you so that you can be healthy and play your best and what do you do? yell at me and tell me it’s not my responsibility to—”

you’re cut off by lips pressing onto yours harshly, the rough feeling of a calloused hand cupping your cheeks and bringing you closer. and maybe if you had a bit more self-respect, you would shove away the rude, ungrateful, irritating, tacky-haired douchebag of a boyfriend that stands in front of you, but you simply choose to lose all dignity when it counts most. you choose to give in, melt into his touch, lean closer and fist his shirt as your lips press back just as firm. 

and when he gently pushes you back, you let him. you even let him step into your apartment and spin you around, shutting the door and pressing your back against the cool surface. his body cages you so that there’s no room for escape—not that you think you could even run from him now that he’s let himself in, anyway. but with one more peck to your lips, he pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours as he clicks his teeth and sighs. 

“fine, i’m fuckin’ sorry. ‘s that what you wanted to hear?”

“not if you’re only saying it to make me un-mad,” you say stubbornly.

he clicks his teeth again, shoots you a look of irritation that you return tenfold. “‘m sayin’ it ‘cus i want to, dumbass. you think i’d say that shit just to say it?”

“i don’t know, you’re rude,” you shrug, not meeting his eyes. he rolls his eyes before he leans in and kisses your cheek, then the other, then the tip of your nose, then just over your brow, then your eyelid—and when he sees the beginnings of a smile crack on your lips, he nibbles on your cheek and pulls a soft giggle from you against your will. 

“said i was fuckin’ sorry, stop being stubborn.”

“don’t yell at me again,” you huff, “and fix your sleep schedule.”

“okay.”

“and eat proper meals.”

“fine.”

“and maybe clean up.”

“kay, i’ll try. happy?”

“and stop getting into fights—”

“let’s set realistic expectations, here,” he cuts you off, earning a huff from you. but you seem significantly less angry—and he’s glad. because sleeping without your body to squeeze in the dead of night and not hearing you hum that stupid song you always listen to as you wash dishes and not getting those back to back pings on his phone as you spam him with daily updates is starting to get to him. so he wraps an arm around your waist, tugs you flush against his chest as meets your gaze, “are you still mad? because then you’re just being difficult.”

“no,” you sigh, making him grin.

“good.”

“i just love you,” you mumble, and there’s that cute, innocent little pout that you always do tugging at your lips, the one that drives him mad and reminds him he’s just as in love too. “i want what’s best for you—”

“yeah, yeah,” he grunts, “okay. i love you too. i’ll start being more responsible and shit. now can i come to bed?”

“fine,” you cave, “but—”

“great, let’s go,” he drags you along, not wasting a moment before your body is tossed onto the mattress and his lands on top of you, head tucking into your neck. and it’s warm—where his lips are, where he traces kisses along the awaiting skin. 

dating shidou ryusei is exhausting—but there are a few perks, you have to admit. 

“you’re a headache,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair. he snorts, shakes his head from his place in your neck, earning a small giggle from you at the way it tickles. 

“yeah? so are you with your nagging.”

“i don’t nag,” you slap his shoulder. he laughs—it’s that low, soft rumble that he only laughs around you, when his head is tucked into your neck, and your hands rub up and down his back, and he’s content. 

and maybe a little in love. 

“you do. but i love it, it’s hot when you’re mad.”

“go to sleep, ryusei,” you roll your eyes. and then you wait a moment or two—just so he doesn’t get a big head when you begrudgingly mumble, “and i love you too.”

half of this is just filler with dialogue but wtv. take this lil scenario in my head of arguing w shidou bc he’s a living train wreck

[y-rhywbeth2]

So what Jergal does, I'm pretty sure, is what happens with Sarevok in ToB. He's dead and, while there's a very brief window of time before the body dissolves and the soul goes to the Throne of Blood where you can resurrect them, the rule is that Bhaalspawn do not come back once they're gone. Eternal damnation suffering Father's wrath, no escape. An exception is made when Bhaal himself wills them to return by restoring their soul/divine essence to them - or another being wielding Bhaal's divine essence does so. Which means that a Bhaalspawn can surrender a portion of their own divine soul (made of Bhaal's essence) unto a sibling, enough to restore their physical form, although stripping them of most divine power (but still leaving them partially divine).

Which has side effects, as seen if Imoen is the donor:

Imoen: 'So... Sarevok. You've had an itty-bitty piece of my soul in there for quite a while now. What's it been like?' Sarevok: *sigh* 'Well, other than a slight obsession with my weight and the resurgence of a few pimples, it's been simply grand. Now leave me be, girl.' Imoen: 'No, I'm serious. Does the fact that you've got a piece of me inside you make any difference at all? Tell me... you owe me that much.' Sarevok: 'What do you wish to know, girl? What are you curious about? Perhaps you would be interested to know that I can feel the knives of Irenicus, slicing into my skin, torturing me. I can feel his hands and his breath, I *know* what he did to you, girl...' Imoen: 'All—all right, stop... I wasn't really serious...' Sarevok: 'How about the agony you felt as your soul was ripped from you? The despair at being left only with the cold voices of your tainted heart, discovering what was inside you all along? How about the hurt you keep deep down within, wondering if you weren't good enough for Gorion? Wondering why you're a Bhaalspawn? How about the loneliness... the unrequited longing you—' Imoen: 'Stop! Enough... I won't bother you, Sarevok, just—'

Bhaal's divine essence is basically Jergal's, so he's a donor match for this godly organ donation, I suppose. I imagine any god would do though. I'd love to know what impulses and memories you can get from the incredibly ancient original god of Tyranny, Strife, Death, and the Dead.

Of course, as I said a while back, there are consequences to the impossible resurrection, which is unlike the regular fare, rendering them something of an aberration (Came Back Wrong). Not alive, not undead - outside of life and death altogether.

Nalia: 'Keep your eyes off me, Sarevok. I don't know what you are, but I don't want you near me.' Sarevok: 'Ahh... So the sorceress can sense the difference in me, can she? Do I alarm you, girl?' Nalia: 'I know that you're not truly alive, and not undead. You're flesh, but not truly alive no matter what [Charname] did to you. So keep away.'

Jaheira: 'You *exist*; you do not *live*. You will miss the Great Mother's embrace in time. You are nothing.'

Cernd: 'I... I apologize, Sarevok. I know that there are reasons for your presence amongst us, but... you seem so unnatural to me that I cannot help but be repelled. ' Sarevok: 'You have encountered many things far more unnatural than me. How about the mortal spawn of an evil god... does that not strike you as unnatural in any way?' Cernd: 'At... at least it is still birth and life, Sarevok. It is part of the natural cycle. Even a Bhaalspawn dies in a natural manner. You are a dead thing that has risen again.' Sarevok: 'The same would be true for any undead creature.' Cernd: 'But you are not undead. You are as the tree stump, sprouted again into a full oak. A marvel, perhaps... but also living denial of the natural cycle. I just find it... disturbing, is all.'

And it does nothing to get rid of the homicidal impulses:

Sarevok: 'In the cold nether realm, while I waited to be reborn, I sorely missed the crimson spray and the hot tang of death on my tongue.'

Sarevok: 'Even after my resurrection, violent rage pollutes my tainted blood. As [Charname] can surely attest, it is a constant struggle to keep our bloodlust in check.'

You've still got Bhaal's divine essence as a fundamental piece of yourself, he just doesn't live in the back of your head the same way (probably?). In Durge's case you've now got the divine essence of two gods competing for your instincts (Jergal probably overrides Bhaal).