#you can say anything and i will not abandon you.

[zarla-s]

i need to know more about your feelings of tf2 comic 7 because youre the heavymedic expert

I liked it! Satisfying happy conclusion for (almost) everyone, especially since I was a little worried they were going to kill everyone off, haha. Not a lot of Heavymedic stuff in there but I wasn't expecting much, and really it was about the Administrator and her story, so it makes sense the mercs wouldn't really take top billing for it.

There were a few cute things though! I know "standing next to each other" is like the most graspingest of straws but you know what, it made me smile each time so I don't care.

The big thing of course being Heavy grabbing his boob, which to me reads like him stopping Medic from trying to help the Admin, which I think is sweet in his own way. Medic has his healing instincts!

Medic also puts his hand on his back as they walk away, which I also think is sweet. It looks like he's comforting him.

I really loved the ending sequence where everyone gets together for that dinner party. It's just such a great bookend to how the comics started - initially when their team disbanded, everyone split off and did their own thing. Some of them didn't even keep track of where the others were! A few kept in contact, but mostly all of them just left the others and they didn't seem particularly concerned or interested in each other.

Compare that to them at the end of the comic! Seven years after everything that happened, they're all meeting up together for dinner! Voluntarily! They're introducing their families to each other! They don't have any contracts or jobs forcing them to spend time together. They WANT to have dinner together. SPY TAKES OFF HIS MASK AND IS FINE WITH IT! I just love that so much. They care about and trust each other after everything that's happened, all the years that have gone by. Team as family was CANON AFTER ALL

I think this whole sequence also sheds a nice light on Medic! Medic's been perceived as probably the most uncaring of the group, given that he did sign up with another team for the money and said he wouldn't mind fighting them again (although not too soon after that he ended up saving all their lives against direct orders). A lot of people interpreted that as him not really caring about the others or anything at all, but that's not the case!

Medic kept and raised his baboon baby! He didn't abandon it or use it for parts or anything, he kept and raised it for seven years! Responsibility!

Not only that, Medic hasn't abandoned his friends, signed up with a new team, forgotten them or tossed them aside. He's with them at the dinner! He comes with his baboon baby! He wants to be with them too! He cares about them, genuinely. And of course, the final shot is with him by Heavy's side, both of them just so happy to be there with everyone else.

Love that Medic's smile still looks unhinged too lol. Would I have loved Heavy holding onto Medic's waist? The two of them wearing matching rings? Of course! But them so close to each other and an obvious irrefutable confirmation that Medic loves and cares about his team and wants to be with them is really lovely. Makes me feel fuzzy, haha.

There's speculation too that Medic came with Heavy's family as that person in the back there but who can say for sure. |D

[mctvsh]

first post here so i'm quite nervous, but!

all i can think of kidnapped!enemy!medic!reader x poly!tf141

cw: military & war inaccuracies + some medical inaccuracies as well, reader uses she/her pronouns, and is mostly girl based, mentions of religion & prayer, first time writing so it will unfortunately be sloppy 💕

let's just say the boys (mostly one you've come to known as, Ghost) haven't been too kind to you. taken from a random battlefield where you were technically there to help YOUR team. they practically throw you over their shoulder and find some fucked up abandoned building with nobody around to help..

great. now what?

you're mostly terrified, and a little pissed. you've heard a few things about them, whispers around your base which, to be frank, aren't the kindest words you've heard about someone! one of them is bleeding out, some guy with a mohawk and a Scottish accent. some gash on his.. thigh? you haven't really been listening since you're scared out of your mind.

your clothes are sticking quite uncomfortably on you, the wet concrete floor has made your ass numb. until they all come in. staring down at you like you're some piece of prey, holding a limping Scot.

"Fix him, yeah?" mutton-chops.

your eyes snap over to the guy who you assumed is the Captain. huh!?

"Uh- I.. need my tools-" you practically squeak out. avoiding eye contact. your medbag was taken from you the second they basically claimed you as 'theirs.'

you hear a grunt (Ghost, you're guessing) and then, thankfully, your medbag being thrown right at you.

you bite at your now chapped lips and create a makeshift bed with your jacket now on the floor and hesitantly nod to the dark skin. he was pretty, ah — getting side tracked. he was the one holding the Scot up, who had stopped his incessant comments (jokes, but weren't very funny) and was now grunting.

unfortunately, you're a medic, a person who helps people, before you're anything else.

the dark skinned male sets the Scot down, and you can see his shudder.. and you almost begin to feel bad before you feel a gun pressed to your back.

great.

"I can't help him if you're doing that." you swallow, thickly. you'll be killed!? isn't that a damn war crime!?

you feel the gun retreat after a few seconds of silence. you breathe out, albeit shakily, but trying not to give them a chance to know how terrified you were.

you locate the source of the bleeding, it isn't too bad at all. you open your medbag, grab some trauma shears, and you cut through his slacks, big enough to work on the stab wound which wasn't too deep but it still needed stitches.

you grab some gauze, disinfectant, numbing cream, and a thread and needle. okay, time to get to work..

it had been a little over 10 minutes. finally finished up with stitching as you place a bandage around his thigh, his pant leg wasn't fully cut off so it was definitely still wearable..

the second you finish up you're being pulled away by the scruff of your neck (Ghost again), your tools splayed out on the floor, thrown off to the side with a Captain staring down right at you.

"Your name?"

you blink up at him. muttering your name as you shuffle a little closer to the corner of the abandoned building. the dark skin and Ghost hover over the Scot instead. which meant that mutton-chops over here, was gonna grill you.. you think. until he stays silent and gives a hum in acknowledgment.

he would be handsome, kind even, if he wasn't staring down at you like that.

your eyes flick over to a Scot who had now been sat up with the help of a narrow eyed dark skin. you bite down, hard at your bottom lip. drawing some blood. you hear a grunt coming from the Scot who had, unfortunately, been feeling okay.

seems the numbing cream did it's job.. because he's back to flirting and making jokes.

"Thanks for patchin' me up, bonnie."

it's not like you had a choice... you nod at him and continue looking down at the floor.

"We'll take 'er back to base." Ghost.

your eyes widen and you suddenly feel a little more religious, praying to whatever God is up there and hoping for the best.

"Aye, a pretty lass, ain't she?" that damn Scot!

they're talking as if you're not right here!

"We still have hours before there's a chopper coming for us." the Captain, and that's all he says as he brings out a cigar. lighting it in your face as if it's some.. joke.

"Aye." the skull-mask says before his brooding body walks over to a corner, staring down at you with his arms crossed over his chest.

and suddenly, you feel a very familiar lump in your throat.. back to THEIR base!? who knows what they'll do to you..

[kaiserposting]

My Worries Come in Phallic, Freudian Shapes

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2k TYPE: Established Relationship, It's basically just Kaiser tweaking for no reason 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️ (I find it funny but interpretations may vary) WARNING(S): Kaiser's overactive imagination?

Kaiser would like to say he’s quite numb to being separated from you. Sometimes you come along with him at away games, if possible, but in other instances you have to be apart sometimes even for months, and Kaiser likes to think he manages it well.

You’re not on his mind much when he’s training or during a game. Mostly his times of weakness happen outside of that, though Kaiser doesn’t let it get to him. For example, he does this fun exercise where if his mind strays towards you too often or when he can sense the void in his chest is beginning to take on a suspicious shape, he holds out on texting or calling you for as long as possible. To test his will — which is something normal people do like all the time, of course — and because wanting to distract himself gives him extra neurotic energy to burn when he’s doing his exercises.

Not that Kaiser becomes neurotic over you or anything. It’s not even a big deal to him.

He’s sure you miss him more than he misses you. He’s confident you do. After all, to him, it’s no big deal, as previously stated. It’s true.

He doesn’t worry about small and nonsensical things like how you’d probably prefer a more present and available boyfriend, and how you’re free to do whatever you want with remarkable ease when you’re seas and oceans away from him.

Kaiser’s eye twitches while he continues shoving the last of his belongings back into his luggage, since he needs to pack for his flight back home. This train of thought isn’t going anywhere good — he needs to abandon it. Besides, a second with Michael Kaiser is worth way more than a month with some stupid, worthless commoner. Your shitty replacement for him will never rival the real deal.

No, this is stupid. You love him, you don’t have a replacement for him. Right? You wouldn’t betray him while he’s away. You’re his first and only love, you can’t do that to him, can you? You know he’d kill you if you did it and he found out, don’t you?

This is stupid. He wouldn’t kill you! Kaiser doesn’t want to kill you. He should stop thinking about this… You wouldn’t do it to him either anyway, you love him back. Kaiser knows you do, so why does it not feel real most of the time?

What if you’ve fallen out of love with him, though? Maybe you look forward to when he has to go away for long. Forget all about him the moment he’s out of your sight, don’t spare him a single thought, have fun with your little friends while he’s gone, all that.

You probably get together and you start shit-talking him with them the way people do about their good for nothing boyfriends sometimes. They call his haircut stupid and you cackle along with them, then you tell them how insecure and unlovable he really is, and actually his dad beat him as a child so now he’s barely human, how it makes him an arrogant and pretentious piece of trash pretender, and then you’re like ‘I wish I had a normal boyfriend instead of Michael’, and they’re all like ‘you deserve a normal boyfriend, this is fucked up’, and you’re empowered to free yourself of your burden. So he comes back home and you pick him up from the flight and you break the news to him that you’re leaving him and he has to move his belongings back to his place.

Maybe you have a new fling already, but it’s nothing serious because you still need to dump Kaiser and all. And he’s like in finances or something, an accountant maybe, who works normal hours (not the overachieving workaholic type who stays behind to do extra), and he probably doesn’t have footage of him having meltdowns on live TV for everyone to see. There are no interviews where he’s acting bitchy, no compilations of him acting cruel or ‘crashing out’ or whatever else. And he probably grew up in an average household — they weren’t rich or anything, but his parents made time for him. They were loving and nurtured him to be a rightful member of society, raising him to be someone worth your affection…

Holy shit does Kaiser feel unhinged. Literally why is he making up this entire story in his head? It never happened.

It didn’t, right? You wouldn’t do it to him, would you? You love him. You really, really, really love him, like from the bottom of your heart, somehow you love him and you don’t want to hurt him, even if you’re probably sick of him being away and of his problems and his attitude and his everything. If you had a magic wand, he wagers you’d wave it and change him on a neurochemical level, keep his looks and his successes, but get rid of the unnecessary baggage.

Or would you keep him as he is and love that ugly thing? Can you? Do you have it in you? Are you just tolerating him for some monetary benefits or out of pity with your knowledge of his past? Do you still love him? Will you love him a few hours from now or are you going to get bored? Are you bored and antsy waiting for him and is it affecting your feelings, suffocating your love to zero each moment he’s not by your side, each reunion only serving to put off the inevitable? Is the novelty wearing off? Do you need novelty?

Kaiser fights off the impulse to write you a text message threatening suicide and then turning off his phone until the end of the flight to keep you on your toes. A flashy move in attention seeking for sure, but for one you don’t even know he’s in a mind war with you, so you’re more likely to be confused than begging for him not to do it and for his forgiveness, though maybe it could earn him a reassurance of love and care. Regardless, Kaiser is not taking the chance because if you ignore him or don’t see the message it’ll just devastate him.

And also he kind of doesn’t want to act like that. Well, he does, but the rational part of him is also still awake and holding him back. You won’t appreciate that. Right now the strife he’s going through is completely imaginary, but if he goes and acts crazy outside the confines of his mind, he really might fuck everything up.

If he makes too many mistakes, you might fall out of love with him, and if you fall out of love with him, you’ll leave him. Kaiser thinks about what he’d do in that case. Without you he is nothing besides an unwanted waste of breath — you’re the sole person who got close enough to see beneath his nonsense and decide to tolerate it, attracted beyond frivolity for an enigmatic reason.

Maybe the perpetrator behind this strange limbo of weird hysteria is Kaiser’s low self-esteem. It always circles back to that and he is sick of it. He doesn’t understand why you subject yourself to him and here, a whole ordeal.

Whatever anymore. Kaiser doesn’t even care. It’s a pointless matter to lose his mind over. He knows you cherish him, and even if you didn’t, he’d get over it. Life moves on. There are other fish in the sea…

Actually, if you tried to leave him, Kaiser has so many things he would do, they’d earn him a restraining order. First he’d resort to begging and ugly crying, but he doubts it’d sway you. He’d need to be more extreme.

No, that’s silly. If you separated, he’d react to it like a normal person, right? He wouldn’t do a thing. He’d let you leave without any theatrics and move on. Right? It’s what he would do, Kaiser decides.

Or maybe he can get a leg up on you and catch you out when you begin losing interest in him and he can work to win you back over. You won’t even know what hit you. Yea, Kaiser will scheme to sweep you off your feet.

Not that he cares that much to put so much effort in… It’s just his strength and natural calling as an unbothered male manipulator.

___

After the packing and the waiting at the airport and all that, Kaiser survives a restless flight. He tried to read a book during it, but he turned out not to enjoy it whatsoever (catastrophe). Then he turned to Gesner, who was sitting next to him and seemed like he wanted to kill himself, and told him in detail about all the plot problems and why this was what made nonfiction superior.

To Gesner’s relief Kaiser also spent a good chunk of it trying to sleep, though the endeavor was useless. He closed his eyes and his pattern of anxious cyclical thinking continued and he failed to doze off. What do you think about accountants? Maybe your side piece wouldn’t have any tattoos because you secretly find his corny and you’ve sworn off tattooed men. ‘I mean, seriously, just put the eyeliner on like a real man.’ Kaiser would bet this is what you’re saying to your friends.

Anyway, again, his flight was spent stirring in ridiculous thoughts in that vein. If nothing else, actually, if you knew what was running through his head, that would be what would put you off of him. But you don’t. He needs to just… keep it to himself and it’ll be fine.

So you find each other after some stumbling and chaos and some vague text exchanges like ‘where are you?’, ‘At the airport obviously’, ‘you think you’re so funny’, and so on, and when you spot each other, you grin upon the sight of him (hard to fake such immediate happiness, Kaiser concludes) and spread your arms out for a hug.

Kaiser rolls his eyes. You’re so cute, he wants to squeeze you to death, but regardless he puts on a big show of what an inconvenience this is and gives you a stiff, nonchalant embrace. The way you hold him is a small reassurance. You’re still in public though, so he needs to play it cool for a bit longer, and he reluctantly peels himself away from you.

You interrogate him about his time away while he’s your passenger princess on the way home. Kaiser takes it as a good sign you’re still interested in his life at least enough to ask, as if there was a possibility he was going to come back and you just… wouldn’t give a fuck about him or what he’s been up to. He keeps his answers vague, trying not to let on the almost daily mental torment he’s been subjecting himself to just because his brain can’t stop making up stupid narratives.

Once you two arrive, and only when you’re inside, does Kaiser give into his desire for your affection. He wraps you up in a way tighter embrace without intention of letting go and peppers your face in kisses.

The first time he acted like that with you upon coming back, you were rightfully weirded out, but now you’re used to this whole routine and let him have his moment of rare forwardness.

“You know,” he says, “I missed you like, a little bit.��

“It’s hard to tell,” you say, sarcastic.

Kaiser ignores it. He bites your cheek. Not hard enough to hurt at all, but it’s a strange sensation.

“So gross.”

“I hope you weren’t doing anything stupid without me. I wouldn't want to miss out on any fun.”

“I wasn’t.”

“What do you think about accountants?”

You raise an eyebrow at the random question, but humor him anyway. “Can’t say I think anything in particular about them.”

“Is that so…”

For some reason, you find his tone to sound suspicious? There is a harder bite — your skin might be a bit irritated around there for a few minutes. You wonder if Kaiser was arguing with management or something somewhere abroad.

___

I just wrote this because I thought Kaiser having emotional impermanence (which is likely) would be hilarious I promise I'll write a more plot-oriented one shot soon again

[heartysworld]

Missing U // Ridoc Gamlyn x Reader

MASTERLIST

W.C: 2.3k

A/N: After reading Onyx Storm I keep getting random ideas and I couldn't pass on writing this one :)

Two weeks.

Two whole, agonizing weeks without Ridoc’s warmth beside you, without his ridiculous jokes at the worst possible moments, without his arms wrapped around you like a human furnace.

Your bed has never felt emptier.

Every night, you curl up beneath the covers, but it’s not the same. There’s no Ridoc grumbling about how you’re a blanket thief, no sleep-mumbled jokes about dragons snoring louder than Xaden, and no lazy morning kisses before the day drags you both into the chaos of Basgiath.

You miss the way he always, always found a way to touch you, even in sleep—an arm slung over your waist, his nose buried in your hair, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. Without him, the nights stretch unbearably long, and no amount of blankets can replace the warmth he brings.

So when Rhiannon and Violet tell you he’s back and has a surprise for you, you don’t think. You run.

The Vale is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wings and the deep, rumbling breaths of resting dragons. The air is crisp, carrying the familiar scent of smoke and earth. Your heart pounds in your chest, anticipation thrumming through your veins as your eyes scan the open space.

Then, you see him.

Ridoc stands beside Aotrom, his brown hair messier than usual—probably from the wind, or from running his hands through it nervously. He’s shifting from foot to foot, the way he always does when he’s excited but trying and failing to play it cool.

Your breath catches, and before you can call out his name, Aotrom lifts his head, lets out a soft huff, and shifts to the side—revealing something burned into the ground.

You blink. Then take a step closer.

I LOVE YO

You tilt your head. Something’s… missing.

Ridoc turns, his face lighting up the moment he sees you. “Y/N!” His entire body practically vibrates with energy, and before you can say anything, he gestures toward the ground with both hands. “Ta-da!”

Your gaze flicks back to the message. The last letter is definitely missing.

Slowly, you lift an eyebrow. “Ridoc,” you say, voice thick with amusement, “where’s the ‘U’?”

Ridoc freezes. “Wait, what?” He whips around, eyes scanning the scorched words. The moment he notices, he groans dramatically and drags a hand down his face. “Oh, come on!”

Aotrom lets out a very unbothered-sounding snort.

Ridoc turns on his dragon, hands on his hips. “Dude. You had one job.”

Aotrom flicks his tail, the picture of innocence.

You cross your arms, biting back a grin. “Ridoc,” you repeat, “why is there no ‘U’?”

Ridoc sighs, shooting Aotrom another look before turning back to you. “Okay, so technically the ‘U’ was there… but right as Aotrom was finishing it, he saw a sheep on one of the lower fields and, uh… immediately took off.”

Your jaw drops. “You’re telling me your dragon abandoned your romantic gesture for a sheep?”

Ridoc throws his hands up. “He really likes sheep, Y/N! I can’t control his cravings!”

Aotrom rumbles contentedly, as if to confirm this fact.

You press a hand to your mouth, but the laughter breaks free anyway. “Only you, Ridoc.”

Ridoc grins, clearly relieved you’re laughing instead of being upset. Then, as if remembering something, he suddenly produces a bouquet from behind his back. “Okay, so the message is a little… incomplete, but this survived.” He steps closer, pressing the flowers into your hands. “Happy anniversary, Y/N.”

Your fingers tighten around the bouquet, your heart swelling. “Happy anniversary, Ridoc.”

His usual playful smirk softens into something more sincere. “Gods, I missed you.” His voice drops slightly, and his eyes roam over your face like he’s memorizing every detail. “Sleeping alone is the worst. Do you know how many times I woke up reaching for you, only to grab a pillow?”

Your chest tightens. “I know,” you admit. “I kept waking up cold.”

Ridoc groans dramatically, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in. “That’s it, I’m never leaving again. Two weeks is way too long. I almost died, Y/N. Died.”

You snort, resting your head against his shoulder. “From what? Sheep deprivation?”

“Exactly!” he exclaims before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His voice drops to something softer, more serious. “I love you. Even if Aotrom forgot the ‘U.’”

You smile, reaching up to brush his messy hair from his face. “I got the message.”

Ridoc watches you for a beat, his expression shifting, turning softer, more intense. Then he cups your face, his palms warm and slightly rough from training. “Can I kiss you now?”

You laugh, but it comes out breathless. “I think you’re required to.”

He doesn’t waste a second.

Ridoc leans in, and the moment his lips press against yours, everything else fades away—the teasing, the missing letter, the two agonizing weeks apart. He kisses you slowly at first, like he’s savoring the

’s trying to make up for every second you spent apart. Then, as if he can’t help himself, he deepens it, tilting his head to fit his lips against yours more perfectly. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Your fingers tangle in his messy hair, and he lets out a quiet, contented sigh against your lips. The warmth of him, the way he tastes like fresh air and something undeniably Ridoc, makes your head spin.

When he finally pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours, his breath slightly uneven. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice full of wonder, “definitely never leaving for that long again.”

You smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “You better not.”

Ridoc sighs dramatically, pulling you into his chest again. “I suffered, Y/N. Two weeks without you? Pure agony.”

You laugh softly, letting yourself sink into him. “Oh, the horror.”

Ridoc grins. “You joke, but do you know how many times I woke up thinking you were there? Only to grab a pillow?” He shudders. “It was tragic.”

“I do know,” you admit, voice quieter now. “Because it was the same for me.”

His arms tighten around you, and for a moment, he just holds you, warm and solid and here.

Then, as if unable to help himself, he presses another kiss to your temple. “You’re not sleeping alone tonight.”

The certainty in his voice sends warmth curling through you.

“Good,” you murmur. “Because I was not looking forward to another cold bed.”

Ridoc hums, tugging you toward Aotrom. “Then let’s get out of here. I already suffered through two weeks without you—I’m not wasting another second.”

Aotrom lets out an exaggerated sigh, as if deeply inconvenienced by his rider’s affection. But even as he huffs dramatically, his tail flicks in amusement, his green eyes twinkling.

You glance at the scorched I LOVE YO on the ground one last time, shaking your head fondly. “Still can’t believe Aotrom abandoned romance for a sheep.”

Ridoc groans. “Don’t remind me. I’m gonna have to do something even bigger next year to make up for it.”

You smirk. “Well, you could start by actually spelling out the whole thing next time.”

Ridoc laughs, scooping you up onto Aotrom’s back before climbing up behind you. As his arms wrap securely around your waist, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, voice warm against your skin.

“Next time, I’ll make sure the whole kingdom knows just how much I love you.”

And as Aotrom takes off into the sky, the wind whipping through your hair and Ridoc’s laughter ringing in your ears, you know that no matter where life takes you, as long as you have him, you’ll never feel cold again.

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Jason Todd x gn mean!reader

I love you mean!reader take jason by the balls like he deserves

(Short, fluff, established relationship)

Swearing, no use of y/n

———

“Shit.” The knife slips off the onion yet again and Jason feels like driving it into the countertop. Instead, he takes another go at the onion and almost nicks his finger.

He throws the knife onto the cutting board with a clatter. This is so fucking stupid. Jason is exhausted and starving and at his wit’s end. All he wants is to make himself some pasta, why can’t he cut this goddamn onion?

It isn’t helping that he came home pissed to begin with. The night was a complete waste of his time. He’s spent weeks sniffing around for one of Bane’s weapons shipments and finally tracked it down to a warehouse on the south side. Jason had got himself all gussied up to go in guns blazing, but he kicked in the door of an empty warehouse. They had already cleared the fuck out, they were one step ahead of him. It was so goddamn embarrassing, all he could do was shuffle home in the rain and try not to picture how Bane was probably laughing at him.

And now even this onion is getting the best of him. Can’t Jason have anything?

He perks up as he hears the clank of your key in the lock. You’re home, thank god. He abandons the onion and goes to meet you at the door.

“Hey, babe.” Your cheeks are pink from the cold. Jason ignores your words and pulls you into his arms, jamming his face into your neck. Your hand comes up to card through his hair. “Huh. Rough night?”

He grunts, and you huff out a laugh. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It was so fucking stupid,” he mutters. “How was your work dinner?”

“Fine. Nothing to report. Drinks went on forever.” You slide your fingers under his shirt and pinch at his waist. “You eat yet?”

“Hm.” He bites lightly at your neck. You tug sharply at his hair. “C’mon, Jay, you have to eat.” You gently shove him aside so you can slip out of your coat and slip off your shoes.

“‘M trying to,” he sulks.

You raise your eyebrows. “Well, what does that mean?”

He sighs, gesturing toward the kitchen, and you go investigate. “Couldn’t cut the fucking onion,” he grumbles. It’s so annoying; normally he’s not a complete idiot in the kitchen, but tonight his skills are failing him.

“Ah,” you say as you approach the cutting board. “Well, unfortunately, you’ve done it wrong.” You take his place at the countertop. Grabbing the knife, you hold it to the onion but then stop, turning to squint at him. “You want me to do it?”

Jason looks at you blankly. You nod. “You want me to show you how to do it or just do it?”

He smiles ruefully. “Good.” You start slicing. “Didn’t want to teach you anything, anyway.”

Jason sighs contentedly, putting his arms around your waist and leaning into your back. Your work steadily for a few minutes, before nudging him with your shoulder. “What were you going to put in the sauce?”

“Garlic,” Jason shrugs. “Onion.”

“Hm. It would be better with cherry tomatoes. And white wine.”

“Mm.”

“Go get the tomatoes. And the wine from the fridge,” you order. Jason blows meaningfully at your neck. “Please,” you add.

Jason knocks his head lightly against yours, then goes to get the requested ingredients. Soon, you’re frying up the onions, garlic, and tomatoes, pouring in some white wine, and setting some water to boil. Jason half-heartedly offers to help, but you take one look at him and wave him off. Fifteen minutes later you’re handing him a fork and sliding a bowl of pasta his way.

He digs in hastily. “Thanks, babe.”

You smile in satisfaction, stealing his fork to take a bite. “Hm. Pretty good.”

Jason wolfs it down before getting up for seconds. He grins at you, and you smile softly back. “Fuckin’ delicious.”

“Damn right. I’m gonna shower.” You move toward the bedroom, pulling your shirt over head. Jason gets momentarily distracted by your bare skin.

“Tsk.” He glances at your face, you’re smirking at him. “Eyes up here, big guy.”

“Can’t blame me for lookin’, sweetheart.” Jason smiles cockily at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Finish your dinner.” You turn back to the bathroom.

He picks up his fork. “I’m cleaning up,” he offers.

“You bet you are.” Jason grins cheekily, and you disappear into the bathroom.

———

He needs to be bullied.

[hivemuthur]

Hi! Thank you so much for your beautiful work!! I hope it’s okay to make a silly little request

So I’m in my 20s (late 20s I might add) but I’ve never ever even kissed anyone yet and I kinda really want to so… Would you consider writing modern au!Viktor with a virgin!f!reader? Something about a first kiss or maybe having sex for the first time or first relationship..? Anything first in general 👉👈

Anon, I am beating my chest that it took so long and hope that you will get a notification that it is published (I sometimes don't when I ask anon questions). I was a late bloomer myself and it has some massive advantages. Though I hope you get to kiss someone nice soon!

First Rites

viktorxfemale!virgin!reader mature, kissing and making out :)

author’s note: Nothing smart to say here, really, other than I will probably write a part two of this :') @rennethen beta read!

word count: 3,5K

—

Your eyes sweep over Jayce’s tongue on Mel’s before you catch yourself staring. And even that doesn’t stop you. You analyse the movement of their hands, the way Jayce’s hips press into Mel’s, memorising all the smacking sounds they try to muffle into gentle giggles, hoping that you and Viktor are doing a decent job of not looking. When in reality, it’s the exact opposite.

It always goes the same way: the clack of heels echoing through the corridor outside the lab already has Jayce perking up. He grunts, clears his throat, and gets up slowly to avoid raised eyebrows and Viktor stating the obvious, like, “I guess this means you’re off for the day?”

Then, Jayce gives an apologetic smile and strolls toward the door, opening it before Mel can even knock. He exchanges a shy, stupid, cheek-reddened “Hi” for her sultry, thick “Hi yourself.” Their greetings die somewhere in their mouths when their lips meet in a first hello kiss. That one doesn’t last very long—soon, it shifts into an I missed you kiss. That lingers before melting into an I want you kiss or an I’d rather eat you than dinner kiss. And those are your favourites.

Even when you try very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss might follow that, you can’t help yourself. You end up blushed and flustered, your mind spinning with curiosity.

So you stare—impolitely, some might say—but for you, it’s research. You study and memorise, committing their courtship to memory so you can replay the scene later, your fingers wandering over your own lips as you imagine what it would be like. To have someone’s lips on yours, someone’s tongue in your mouth. It doesn’t sound all that appealing or hygienic, but it looks fantastic. It makes you feel a very much welcomed weirdness in your chest and belly, and having nothing else to supplement those feelings with, you just outright stare.

“It’s quite rude, if you ask me,” Viktor’s voice cuts through your thoughts just as Mel lets out a small, startled sound at Jayce’s hand cradling the back of her neck.

“Uh, I know. They should take it somewhere else, really,” you whisper back, but your tone is far from condemning. You say it absentmindedly, your eyes still glued to their mouths, chin propped on your hand, your scribbling abandoned the moment Jayce stood up.

“I meant your intense staring. But yes, such activities should be performed outside of work areas,” Viktor mumbles, not looking up from his notes.

Your blush deepens into an intense red hue as you finally look away and cover your face with your hand.

“Oh, I um… I didn’t mean to, it’s just—”

“All right, we’re off! Don’t work too hard while I’m gone!” Jayce’s beaming laughter cuts you off. Before you or Viktor can reply with a snarky comment, he sweeps Mel by the waist, and they disappear into the hallway. The sound of Mel’s giggle and the uneven click of her heels on the stone floors make you wonder if Jayce is kissing her neck or pressing her against a wall.

“It’s just?” Viktor insists, finally looking at you, his face forming an unamused expression.

“Nothing. It’s just nothing,” you respond quickly, picking up your pen with a shaky hand. You force yourself back to scribbling, even though your handwriting comes out ragged, suffering from both the excitement and the fear of Viktor’s prying eyes. But you do it anyway, desperate for any kind of shield.

“It does not look like nothing,” Viktor pushes, rotating in his chair to face you fully. You deepen your hunch, almost pressing your nose into the paper. How mortifying.

“I understand the concept of unrequited attraction, but you should really do yourself a favour and quit this self-flagellating practice of ogling every time Mel picks him up. It doesn’t lead to anything beneficial and impacts your focus,” Viktor drones, his nasal tone close to scolding.

You feel so scrutinised that you don’t even bother to correct his misunderstanding of your habit. You just sigh and continue your fake note taking.

“Trust me, I would know,” Viktor adds.

That catches your attention. How would he know anything about what you’re going through?

“Whatever do you mean by that?” you ask, keeping your face turned toward your notes, though your eyes wander to glance at him. He looks… unhappy? Mildly irritated? Annoyed at your lack of shame and focus?

“I am merely stating that lusting after someone out of reach is, at best, futile and, at worst, a path to ruin. For your own good, I would refrain from such practices,” Viktor says quietly.

You blink a few times as the words settle in your mind. He thinks I’m in love with Jayce? Lusting after him? It’s almost funny when you think that what you’ve been doing is in fact, just lusting.

“I can assure you, I am not attracted to Jayce. Or Mel, for that matter. I just—”

“Oh?” Viktor’s head snaps up so fast it surprises even him. He internally scolds himself for the involuntary reaction, but the undeniable punch of hope makes him lose control of his body for a moment. His pupils are wide, his brows lifted all the way to his forehead. “You’re not?”

“Uh, no,” you sigh, finally turning to face him properly. Your head dips as embarrassment weighs you down, but maybe admitting it will make it easier to carry. “I’m just… collecting research. For whenever I’ll have the opportunity. If ever. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever—”

“What?” Viktor’s voice comes out too sharp. Shit. He scowls at himself—internally, of course—for how poorly he masked his shock. Way to be sensitive.

You wince, sinking deeper into yourself.

“Oh. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to… offend you,” he says carefully, trying not to sound too excited. His hand hovers over your knee while he calculates whether it would be proper to comfort you with a gentle touch. If you would like that. If you would like him to touch you.

But before he can decide, you turn back to your side of the desk, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not that easy to offend. It’s just not something I’m comfortable with. I’m a bit… too old for that, you know.”

And as if having a mild upper hand in this situation pumps Viktor with extra courage, he twists your chair back and rolls it close to his, until the sides of your thighs touch. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, then. I actually mean for the opposite of that,” he breathes and allows himself to glance over your lips, briefly. But you notice.

“Viktor?” you whisper, feeling an invisible force pulling you closer to his face. His arm extends over your legs, gripping the edge of your seat, and you feel the mild heat radiating off his body. You can smell his scent lingering in the space between you as you indulge in small glances at his eyes and lips.

“If you allow me, I could provide you with… some hands-on experience. Unless, of course, I am not—”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, and Viktor exhales into a relieved smile. He mumbles an “okay,” as if bracing himself, and closes the little distance left between you. His mouth presses against yours almost innocently as he takes your upper lip between his. His lips are soft and warm. It’s a long, lingering peck that has your eyes fluttering shut and a pool of heat blooming in your belly. You find yourself leaning into the kiss, your hips on the edge of the chair, to the point that your chests almost press against each other.

When he disconnects from you, it’s only to breathe against your mouth, “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” you say shakily, your lips brushing his. You open your eyes only to see a pretty pink blush splattered across his cheeks and ears. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when he asks, “Would you like me to continue?”

“Please, continue,” you exhale, and something glints in Viktor’s eyes. Emboldened by your enthusiasm, he slides the hand gripping the stool to the back of your seat, pulling you closer until you can almost feel the flutter of his heart against yours as your chests meet. His other hand cradles the back of your neck, and oh, it’s the same gesture Jayce granted Mel that you’ve longed for so dearly, and you feel your skin prickling under Viktor’s touch.

His mouth is back on yours, this time the press is firmer, as he parts your lips with his tongue and—oh. Just oh, as your eyebrows knit together and the warmest of feelings floods your chest, making your hands jolt out to fist his vest, and you sigh the sweetest of sounds into his mouth. And he doesn’t stop there—the hand from the chair slides up your side, rests on your ribcage, fingers digging in when he—oh—also makes a sound. The hottest of sounds, a honey-dripping moan that makes you bite his lower lip, craving to eat him up with a long spoon.

And when he loses himself a bit—grunts and sighs into you, his hands wandering to rest at the base of your spine and cradle your cheek in a firm grip—you don’t even know how it happens, but you slide your hips to straddle his and press yourself down on him. To your delight, he has many more of those pretty sounds, some even forming something close to your name, making you melt into his arms.

When he pulls away, it’s only for an inch. “Oh, my,” Viktor mutters, rubbing his face against yours and kissing your neck. You like that too, but you already miss his hot tongue in your mouth. “A natural talent, I see,” he chuckles, and you blush even more at the thought of what he would say if he knew how much practice you’ve done on the crook of your fist alone in your room.

He looks up at you, all flustered and pretty, swiping his thumb across your glistening lip. He doesn’t know what’s come over him when he says, “If you wish to explore this further, I can offer my… expertise.” What he wants to say is that he’s been thinking about this too many times to count, leaving him flustered and pretty countless times before, but he doesn’t want to scare you away. So he just keeps looking at you expectantly, willing his mouth to shut.

“I would like that,” you mutter shyly, noticing how Viktor’s chest sags with relief. To think that he was there, willing and within your reach all this time makes you feel silly for all those times you stared at Jayce and Mel longingly. And you’re convinced you’ll continue to watch them—not with longing, but with anticipation for when they finally stroll off to their date, so you can sink your lips onto Viktor’s.

[goddessinnerglow]

Why Being "Low Maintenance" Is Actually Self-Abandonment

Have you ever caught yourself saying "I'm just low maintenance" and feeling weirdly proud about it? Let's talk about what's really hiding behind that seemingly innocent phrase.

Being "low maintenance" often means we're actually abandoning ourselves in small ways every single day. We're not actually "chill", we're just really good at ignoring our own needs.

Think about it: When was the last time you…

Said "I'm fine with whatever" when you actually have a strong preference about where to eat

Stayed quiet about something that hurt you because you didn't want to "cause drama"?

Accepted the bare minimum effort because you're afraid of being called "demanding"

Praised yourself for "not being needy" when you're actually just suppressing your real needs.

The scary part? Society LOVES a "low maintenance" woman. Movies, TV shows, and social media constantly feed us this idea of the "cool girl" who never complains, never has needs, and is always up for anything. We're taught that taking up less space and being eternally agreeable makes us more lovable. But let's be real, would you want your best friend to silence her needs just to seem "easy-going"? Would you want your future daughter to shrink herself to appear more attractive to others?

I didn't think so.

Here's what being "low maintenance" actually costs you: Your authentic voice gets quieter. Your ability to form genuine connections suffers (because how can people truly know you if you never express what you want?). Your self-trust erodes because you've gotten so good at ignoring your inner wisdom.

Having needs doesn't make you high maintenance, it makes you human. Setting boundaries isn't demanding, it's healthy. Speaking up about your feelings isn't dramatic, it's brave.

So how do we start shifting away from this pattern? It doesn't have to be huge, dramatic changes. Start with tiny steps that feel manageable:

Next time you're asked where you'd like to eat, pause for a moment. Check in with yourself. What sounds good to you? Maybe you don't need to immediately jump to "oh, anywhere is fine!" Give yourself permission to have a preference.

Try keeping a little notes app diary of moments when you notice yourself automatically saying "it's fine" or "whatever you want." No judgment, just notice the pattern. Sometimes awareness is the first step to change.

When you're with trusted friends, practice expressing small preferences. Maybe it's about what movie to watch or what time to meet up. Notice how it feels in your body when you actually say what you want. Notice if the world keeps spinning (spoiler: it usually does).

Instead of "low maintenance," how about we start calling ourselves "self-aware"? Instead of "easy-going," how about "authentic"? Instead of "not needy," how about "clear about my needs"?

Remember, the right people in your life won't want you to be low maintenance. They'll want you to be authentic. They'll appreciate knowing your true preferences and respect your boundaries. And anyone who makes you feel bad about having normal human needs isn't someone who deserves your energy.

Your needs matter. Your voice matters. Your preferences matter. And learning to honor them isn't just okay, it's essential for building a life that actually feels like yours.

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

[heliosunny]

Hi, I enjoy reading your stories! For the request, can I please have yandere Robin x reader?

MYSTERY PLANT

Yandere!Robin x Reader

You never expected much from a simple sapling. The tiny Robin Pear tree had been left abandoned near a market stall, its leaves trembling in the wind as if pleading for someone to take it home. You had always been good at nurturing fragile things, so taking it in felt natural.

Days passed, then weeks. The tree flourished under your care, its thin branches stretching toward the sun, leaves unfurling in vibrant green. Then, one evening, beneath a moonlit sky, something impossible happened.

A petal drifted down from the tree's blossoms, shimmering as it landed in your palm. A sweet voice whispered through the room.

"You’ve taken such good care of me… Now, let me return the favor."

The branches trembled, then split apart with a shudder. A gust of wind filled the room, carrying a floral scent that made your head spin. And then, from the heart of the tree, she emerged.

She was breathtaking. Ethereal liliac-silver hair cascaded down her waist, curling slightly at the ends, a halo-like ornament resting atop her head. Pale wings, resembling those of a celestial songbird. Her teal eyes, brimming with warmth, met yours, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile.

"Robin." The name left your lips instinctively, as if you'd always known her.

Her smile widened. "Yes, and you, Y/n… you are mine."

From the moment she arrived, Robin has been following you around. She hummed melodies as she watched you sleep, brushed her fingers through your hair when she thought you wouldn’t notice.

"I bloomed for you" she whispered one evening, her arms wrapping around you in an embrace "You wouldn’t abandon me, would you?"

At first, you weren’t sure how to adjust. But she made it easy. Despite her otherworldly presence, she was warm, affectionate, and endlessly kind—to everyone.

In the marketplace, she became a sensation overnight. With a gentle smile and a soothing presence, she helped merchants arrange their goods, guided lost children back to their parents, and sang in the town square, her voice drawing in crowds like a spell.

"Miss Robin, your voice is truly a gift!" one elderly woman praised.

"A gift meant to be shared" Robin replied, bowing gracefully.

And share she did. Her singing eased tensions, made quarrels dissolve into laughter, and even though she didn’t say it outright—influenced dreams. She once mentioned it casually, over breakfast, as if it wasn’t an insanely terrifying ability.

"I see glimpses of their dreams sometimes" she admitted, twirling a spoon in her tea. "A little adjustment here, a comforting presence there… it helps people wake up happier."

You nearly choked. "Wait—you’re controlling dreams?!"

Robin giggled, tilting her head. "Control? No, no, of course not. That sounds so… forceful. I simply guide."

"You have nightmares sometimes, don’t you?" she asked, voice softer. "I could make them go away."

You hesitated. The idea of her wandering into your mind while you slept should have been unsettling. But… when she smiled at you like that, when her voice curled around your ears like a lullaby, it became harder and harder to think of anything other than her.

The incident happened at the market.

A local vendor, a kind, older man who sold fresh fruit, was being harassed by a group of thugs. They knocked over crates, laughing as apples and pears rolled across the dirt.

"Pay up, old man. Don’t think we forgot your debt."

Robin was too far away, speaking with a group of women who had begged for one more song. So you did what any decent person would do.

You stepped in.

"Hey! Leave him alone!"

The leader sneered. "Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?"

You weren’t exactly intimidating, but you held your ground. "Just walk away."

For a second, it seemed like they might. Then, one of them used a knife aimed towards you. You felt blood on your arm. The fruit vendor shouted in alarm.

But then—

A melody cut through the chaos.

"Oh dear," Robin’s voice floated through the air, lilting and amused. "It seems I’ve come at the perfect time."

The thugs froze. Their eyes glazed over as the sound of her song wrapped around them like vines, twisting through their minds, rooting itself deep into their thoughts.

You watched in stunned silence as their expressions slackened. The one who had cut you dropped his knife, eyes unfocused, lips trembling like he was on the verge of tears.

Robin stepped between you and them.

"Now," she purred, tilting her head, "I could tell you to leave, but where would the fun be in that?"

The melody shifted.

The men shuddered.

Without another word, they turned and ran.

"What…?" You blinked at their retreating figures, confused. "How did you—?"

"Are you alright?" Robin cut in as she turned to you. Her gaze flickered to your injured arm, tears are about to fall from her eyes.

"That was reckless of you..." she murmured, stepping closer.

You gave a sheepish laugh, wincing as you pressed a hand to your wound. "I just… I couldn’t stand by and do nothing."

"You’re too kind for your own good."

Her other hand cupped your face, thumb brushing your cheek in a slow motion.

"You should leave these things to me," she whispered. "I’ll always keep you safe."

You smiled at her, relieved. "Thanks, Robin. I don’t know what you did, but… I’m glad you were here."

"Of course. I’ll always be here."

By the time you returned home, the sun had already dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in dusky purples and oranges. The weight of the day clung to your limbs, but somehow, having Robin beside you made everything feel lighter.

"You’re still bleeding, you know" she murmured, glancing at your arm as you stepped inside.

"I’ll clean it up in a bit" you reassured her.

Robin frowned, but didn’t push further. Instead, she turned toward the bathroom, stretching her arms above her head. "Then, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to freshen up."

You chuckled, watching as she disappeared behind the door.

The sound of water filled the quiet house as Robin bathed. You took the time to bandage your wound, then unpacked the things you had bought earlier—some vegetables, spices, and a small box of decorative hairpins. You had grabbed them on a whim, thinking they’d suit her.

By the time she emerged, steam curling from behind her, Robin looked more ethereal than ever. A towel was draped around her shoulders, her damp silver-blue hair cascading down in loose strands.

"Come here" you gestured, patting the seat in front of you.

Robin raised a brow but complied, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "What are you up to?"

"Your hair. It’s still wet." You reached for a cloth, gently running it through her locks, soaking up the moisture.

At first, she said nothing, only closed her eyes, letting you take care of her. The room was silent except for the soft sound of the towel brushing against her hair. You moved with careful fingers, untangling knots, smoothing out each strand.

"You’re so gentle" she murmured.

You huffed a laugh. "Is that surprising?"

"No. Just… nice."

When her hair was dry, you reached for the brush and slowly ran it through the silken strands, watching the way the light caught in them.

"You have really pretty hair, Robin."

Robin’s eyes fluttered open, tilting her head slightly to glance at you. "You think so?"

"Mhm." You set the brush down, reaching for the box of hairpins. "I, uh… got you these earlier. Thought they’d look nice on you."

Robin blinked in surprise as you opened the box, revealing delicate pins shaped like tiny birds and flowers. For a moment, she simply stared at them, then she let out a soft laughter.

"You’re too sweet, Y/n" she hummed, tilting her head. "Go on, then. Decorate me as you please."

You rolled your eyes at her playful tone but got to work. Carefully, you gathered sections of her hair, twisting them into an elegant half-up style, securing them with the pins. When you were done, you sat back, admiring your work.

"Beautiful."

Robin turned to you, smiling. "Why, thank you."

After taking care of her hair, you moved to the kitchen, determined to cook something nice for her. Robin sat nearby, watching with quiet amusement as you chopped ingredients and stirred the pot.

"You don’t have to do all this for me, you know" she mused, resting her chin on her palm.

"I want to," you replied simply. "You’re always helping others. Let me take care of you for once."

Dinner was warm, filling, and cozy. You ate together, sharing small stories and laughter between bites. But the real fun came afterward.

Robin had been humming absentmindedly, some melody she had sung in the market earlier, when you decided—for some reason—that you wanted to return the favor.

"I should sing for you too" you declared.

Robin perked up immediately, teal eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh? Please, go on. I’d love to hear it."

You hesitated. Bad idea.

But it was too late. Robin was already watching, waiting, anticipation clear on her face.

So, you took a deep breath and started singing.

And—it was bad.

Off-key. Wobbly. Nowhere near the enchanting, ethereal quality of Robin’s voice. But you kept going, determined.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Robin burst into laughter.

"Oh, Y/n.." she gasped between giggles, clutching her stomach. "That was… truly something."

"Hey!" You huffed, throwing a napkin at her.

She caught it easily. "Don’t pout, don’t pout. It was adorable."

Despite her teasing, Robin’s laughter was light, happy. And as embarrassing as it was, you couldn’t help but feel warmth spread through your chest at the sound.

As the night stretched on, the two of you stayed like that—talking, laughing, simply existing in each other’s presence.

Morning came. You stretched with a yawn, blinking sleepily as the scent of fresh flowers filled the air. Robin had already woken before you—unsurprising, given her boundless energy.

"Good morning, Y/n" her voice drifted in softly from the other room.

You followed the sound, finding her standing by the small greenhouse extension you had built—just a tiny, sunlit space where you kept the plants you’d been tending for years.

Robin looked ethereal, dressed in soft pastels, her hair still pinned up the way you had styled it the night before. A teacup rested in her delicate hands as she gazed at the plants.

"You take such good care of them"

You chuckled, stepping beside her. "Of course. I’ve had them for a while. Some of these I even grew from seedlings."

Robin’s teal eyes flickered toward you, a small smile gracing her lips. "I see… so they are very dear to you."

"Well, yeah." You knelt down, checking the soil of a small potted rosemary plant. "It’s rewarding, watching them grow. But I guess you’d understand that better than anyone."

Robin hummed, sipping her tea. "Yes… though, unlike them, I can love you back."

You blinked, glancing up at her.

Robin smiled, serene and elegant as always, tilting her head slightly. "Plants do not think. They do not feel. They merely exist, waiting for your touch, your care. But me…"

"I can cherish you properly."

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "They’re just plants, Robin. I don’t love them like I love people."

Robin exhaled, her smile deepening as she reached out and plucked a small petal from one of the flowers. She twirled it between her fingers, watching it spin before it fluttered to the floor.

"Good" she whispered, almost to herself.

The rest of the day passed in quiet, domestic bliss. Robin helped you prepare lunch, her hands moving with practiced grace as she plated the dishes with an elegance that made even simple meals look like fine dining. She never ate much, but she always insisted on tasting anything you made.

"If you’ve prepared it, then it must be worth savoring" she would say, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Afterward, you found yourself lying on the couch, exhausted from the morning’s errands. Robin sat beside you, fingers combing gently through your hair.

"You should rest more" she murmured, her voice a delicate melody. "It’s no wonder you sleep so deeply."

"Mhm… guess I’m just used to staying busy" you mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

"Then allow me to lull you."

The familiar hum of her voice. It wrapped around you like silk, smooth and sweet, threading through your consciousness, urging you into the embrace of sleep. You barely resisted. Robin continued stroking your hair, her touch light, careful.

"That’s right," she whispered, almost inaudible. "Just stay close to me. Only me."

You didn’t hear it. You had already slipped into dreams.

That evening, as you stepped back into the greenhouse to water the plants, something felt… off.

A few of the smaller plants were gone.

Not withered. Not rotting. Simply… missing, as if they had never been there at all. The soil remained undisturbed, no signs of pests or animals. The pots that once held their stems sat empty, eerily clean.

"Robin?" you called.

She stepped in behind you, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "Yes?"

You gestured toward the empty pots. "Did you move some of the plants?"

Robin tilted her head, eyes wide with soft curiosity.

"Oh? Were they important?"

"It’s fine. Maybe I forgot I repotted them or something."

Robin smiled, reaching up to adjust one of the hairpins you had given her.

"Yes," she murmured, "perhaps that’s it."

The moment passed. The warmth returned.

And yet, as you continued through the night, laughing with her, cooking for her, letting her tease you over your terrible singing…

The missing plants lingered in the back of your mind.

Like something unseen, waiting in the dark.

That night, you saw her in your dream, you assumed it was simply coincidence.

You stood in a vast garden bathed in moonlight, flowers blooming in unfamiliar yet impossibly beautiful shapes. The air was thick with a gentle fragrance. Somewhere in the distance, the faint hum of a melody drifted through the stillness.

She stood under a tree heavy with pale blossoms, her hair cascading down while the same hairpins you had gifted her glinting faintly in the glow.

"Oh," she smiled softly, folding her hands in front of her. "You’re here."

Her voice was as delicate as the night breeze, carrying a warmth that made your chest feel light.

"Robin?" you asked, blinking. "Why are you…?"

"It seems your mind has called for me."

"I don’t remember—"

"It does not matter. We are here now, and that is enough, is it not?"

Something about the way she said it made you nod, despite the lingering confusion.

She reached out then, brushing her fingers along your wrist. "You are tired. Let me grant you peace, my dear."

And before you could say anything else, the world melted into warmth.

You awoke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, heart pounding faintly in your chest. The dream had been so vivid. You could still feel the cool night air, the scent of flowers, the softness of Robin’s voice lingering at the edge of your senses.

"Good morning"

Robin was there, standing by the open window, bathed in morning light. She turned to you with a soft smile, as if she had been waiting for you to wake.

"You seemed to sleep quite deeply," she mused, approaching with measured grace. "I do hope you found rest."

You sat up, rubbing the back of your neck. "Yeah… I had a strange dream."

Robin tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her teal eyes. "Oh? Do tell."

You hesitated. The memory of the dream was still fresh, yet the more you thought about it, the more distant it seemed—like mist slipping through your fingers.

"It was just… a garden," you muttered. "And you were there."

"How lovely," she murmured. "Perhaps your heart simply longs for me, even in sleep."

She said it so lightly, so effortlessly, that you almost didn’t catch the weight of her words.

You laughed, brushing it off. "You make it sound so dramatic."

Robin chuckled, shaking her head. "I merely speak the truth."

"Regardless," she continued, "I am pleased. You should always rest knowing I am near."

The day passed with a familiar rhythm. Robin accompanied you to the market again, her presence as radiant as ever. She spoke with people kindly, helped an elderly woman carry her wares, and even hummed a tune that made a crying child calm almost instantly.

You watched as stall owners greeted her with warmth, their expressions softening the moment she smiled. It was as if she brought ease wherever she went—like a breeze that smoothed out the rough edges of the world.

But when you glanced at her, you noticed the way her gaze lingered on you.

Not just fond. Something darker.

"Is something the matter?"

You shook your head. "No. Just… watching."

Robin’s lips curled slightly.

"Then please," she murmured, "watch only me."

[moody-alcoholic]

MIA

Price x Ghost but Ghost is kidnapped on a botched mission…

Who am I kidding it’s basically a poly141 again because I have no self control.

CW: Kidnapping, violence, use of weapons, description of injuries, torture, possessiveness, death.

---

Price would do this for anyone on 141. Sacrifice his entire military career for any of them.

Kyle.

Johnny.

Simon.

They’re his fuckin’ family, his reason to wake up in the morning. His reason to keep fighting the good fight. Right now he feels like he’s failed them all, most of all Simon.

He remembers Shepard's brief; a new terrorist organisation sweeping through Europe. Put a stop to them before they can attack again.

They had a location, they had solid intel, they had a name. It was almost routine, painfully so, infiltrate, capture or kill.

Textbook.

It was a shock to them all when the tunnel blew, when Ghost got left behind.

Price couldn’t tell what was worse, Johnny’s screams or the thought of leaving Ghost behind. Not Ghost, Simon. His family, his partner.

He let him down, left him behind to be captured by the enemy. He had to make that choice as a Captain, for the well being of his team.

The shouting at Soap and Gaz to run felt like a fever dream, he needed to get them out the tunnel before the rest of the charges went off.

He left Simon behind. MIA.

That’s what they classified it as. When they were going through the debrief. Shepherd stood there with Laswell by his side refusing-point blank-to let them go back for him.

“We do not have the resources for a full blow rescue mission captain.” Shepard snapped over the table.

“Are you going to stop me?” Price asked snapping back at him. He felt Kyle’s hand land on his shoulder, Johnny’s raw tear stained eyes digging into him.

“You have orders to follow Captain. Anything else will be classed as treason.”

“General.” Laswell called trying to calm him down.

John didn’t care, he had already made his mind up. They were getting Simon back, no matter what it takes.

He tried to stop them. Told Johnny and Kyle to their faces that if they followed him they would be ending their careers too. He was more then happy to do this alone, he was ready to do this alone.

“This is not your responsibility.” John said watching their expressions, they looked between each other before turning back to him.

“We do this together.” Kyle said.

“No one fights alone.” Johnny said.

It was easy to grab gear and a car. Almost too easy. No one stopped them, no one questioned them. If they did it wouldn’t have mattered, they would have to catch them first.

“I can’t believe Shepard wanted to leave him.” Soap says a few minutes into the journey.

“We never leave anyone behind.” Gaz snaps looking over at Price from the driver seat. John smiles at him then goes back to looking out the window.

“Sure this is where he’ll be?” Soap asks from the back seat.

“If Laswell’s intel is good it’s the best shot we have.” Price said.

The rain was hammering down by the time they made it to to the building. The whole place was an abandoned office block or something. Price didn’t care, Simon was in there that’s what mattered, that’s all that mattered.

The car comes to a stop the engine is turned off. Price jumps out, he picks his weapon up, feeling the cold metal on hands. He looks up at the dark building, he can feel his heart thump in his chest as he steady's his breathing trying to ground himself.

He feels a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve got your back Captain.” He swallows the nerves.

“Lets move.” He orders.

…

Its dark. Dark and cold.

That’s all he feels, cold air making him shiver. They stripped him of his clothes first. Hands wrapping round his throat, skin meeting skin. Punches to the stomach and face.

He tried to fight but the explosion was close, it hit him hard knocking him off his feet. He barely had time to orient himself before people attacked him.

He heard John last. He heard the order to fall back.

He heard the order to leave him.

That was the last thing he heard before he woke in a new place.

It’s dark, he's strapped to a chair in a room with open windows. He can hear the wind, the rain.

It’s cold, the chill causing goosebumps to rise on his half naked body.

They took everything but his boxers and jeans. They’ve already tried to get info from him, the flashes of pain across his chest. Never deep enough to kill him, just enough to hurt him.

He’s stronger then they think, stronger then they’re prepared for.

John left him behind but he will never betray them.

Not his family, the people he loves. The people he spent the last few years letting himself get close to.

John.

Johnny.

Kyle.

His family. His partners.

No doubt his captors be back soon for another round. Another attempt to get him to talk. This could go on for days, weeks. He has to assume the worst, that no one is coming for him.

He has to keep it together, he can’t let them break him. He’s stronger then this, he's been through worse. He’ll keep it together till the bitter end.

He chuckles, he can hear shots. His mind is already playing tricks on him. For a second he lets himself believe its rescue, he lets himself have a moment of weakness. A pained groan leaves his throat as he tries to pick his head up. His eyes are swollen from the beating he’s taken. His chest caked in a thick layer of dried blood and sweat.

There’s a bang, so loud his head snaps to the side, a faint light floods into the room. His ears are ringing as he hears orders being shouted.

The voice sounds so familiar, his heartbeat picks up as someone comes over to him. Hands find his face for a second pulling his head straight.

“We’re here, you’re okay.”

“John?” He asks, his voice catching in his throat. A mask is pulled over his face, it feels familiar, warm, safe. He feels the restraints round his hands vanish.

“It’s okay, we’re here Simon.” It is John talking to him. He feels Johns forehead pressed against his. “We got you, you’re safe, we’re here now.”

Hands grip his shoulders.

“Get him out of here.” John says standing up. Simon almost wants to reach out for him.

“Where are you going?” That’s Johnny. His voice is usually so relaxed, he sounds serious, his words harsh cutting through the air.

“Get him out of here!” John snaps.

“‘Cause sir,” another set of arms hooks under his armpits. He looks over at John pressing another mag into his weapon. His arms are pulled over shoulders as he’s dragged over to the other side of the room.

“John.” He tries to call but it comes out so quiet.

“Stay with us Lt.” Johnny says, pulling him against him so Gaz can call the lift. He’s dragged inside, Gaz coming to look at him, his hands running over his chest.

“We’re getting you out of here. You’re going to be okay.”

He lets out a breath closing his eyes as the door to the lift closes.

…

John is on a warpath. It’s been years since he’s been this angry, this focused. His he squeezes the barrel of his weapon firing off shots at anyone he sees. The image of Simon, blooded and bruised tied in a chair, so exposed, so vulnerable. It made him feel sick.

There are only enemies in this building, a building that needs to be rid of the despicable people who hurt Simon. His lieutenant, they have no idea what they’re messing with.

How dare they.

He lets the smell of blood and gunpowder fill his nose with every room he clears. He expected more, more resistance, more people to take his anger out on.

Christian, that was the name they were given. He was running the whole operation, that’s his target. The person who would have ordered terror attacks, planted the bombs in the tunnel, ordered Simon’s torture.

How dare he.

John makes it to the next floor he spies someone with his back to the door. He takes his knife off his hip sneaking up to the man and pressing the knife to his throat, wrapping his arm round his body holding him in place.

“Where’s Christian?” He growls in his ear.

“N-next floor.” The man sobs. John slits his throat letting his body fall to the floor. He doesn’t bother cleaning the knife putting it back in the holster. He continues clearing the floor. One body, two, three, four…

The walk up to the next floor feels surreal. He changes the mag in his weapon clicking it in place before walking into what used to be an open plan office. The place is surprisingly empty, still he can’t help checking every cubical, every corner. He makes it across to the only other room in the building. There is light coming through the bottom of the door.

He takes in a deep breath moving his finger to the trigger and kicks the door open.

The man behind the desk stands up, his arms raised in the air. He reaches for his weapon, Price fires off the shot hitting him in the shoulder causing him to collapse to the ground. He walks round the desk watching him writhe on the floor.

Price kicks him, his hand tries to grab Price’s foot. Price pulls it away then slams his foot down on his wounded shoulder.

“Christian?” Price asks.

“Fuck you!” The man shouts back. Price lets out a breath and shoots in him in the head. His body goes limp, he removes his foot and turns back to the office door.

It’s done.

Now all that matters is Simon. All that matters is Simon.

---

[danikamariewrites]

hiiii if you’re currently taking requests, i was wondering if you could do either feysand x reader or bat boys x reader on how they’d react to reader having a nightmare? or if you have anything you’ve already written for that and wanna drop the link, i’d love that too!!! thanks :))

Nightmare Comfort

Feysand x reader

Notes: I think I've done one for Az and Rhys before but I love a good comfort fic so I thought I'd make this part of the House Wife Feysand mini series since I miss them.

I have reader going thru it like Bella in New Moon so sorry in advance

Warnings: angst, comfort, mentions of kidnapping

Every night the dreams get more and more vivid. It feels like you’re back in that freezing, abandoned cabin. When you can finally pull yourself from the illusion you wake up screaming. Your fists clenched like they were around the ropes to keep your skin from pinching.

Tonight was no different. The same nightmare. The same chill makes your body tremble.

You’ve opted to sleep on the side of the bed instead of the middle. The fist clenching progressed to thrashing a few nights ago, Rhys had to hold you until they broke you from the dream.

You jolted awake with a scream on your lips. It didn’t make it, your throat too dry from every other night. You choked, coughing and gasping for air.

Looking over at your mates you find them fast asleep. The bags under their eyes make your heart clench, guilt knotting in your stomach.

Slipping from bed you pad downstairs. This way you won’t wake them or hurt them.

Curling up in one of the wing armchairs you pull a blanket tight around your shoulders.

When the sun came up you didn’t move from the chair. Not even when Feyre brought you breakfast. She begged you to talk but all you could do was shake your head.

Every night you pretend to go to bed with Rhys and Feyre. You wait until their breathing calms and Rhys’s light snores fill your ears to go to the armchair.

It’s the only place the nightmares don’t reach you. The men that took you can’t reach you here.

You see the men every time you close your eyes. Still feel their hands pulling at you when they took you.

You sit in the armchair for months. Watching as winter melts into spring. Becoming a shell of yourself.

Nyx tries to sit with you, and you at least talk with him. You could never break his heart.

Midway through March, Rhys put his foot down. When you tried to sneak downstairs he shot out of bed, blocking your way. You were so shocked you couldn’t speak.

“Sit,” he commands. Feyre pulls you to her side, cradling your head against her chest. “Y/n, we know you haven’t been sleeping,” Rhys kneels in front of you. “We know why you’re having nightmares and I’m begging you, please let us help.”

Unsure silence engulfs the room. Rhys and Feyre hold their breath as they watch your tears slow. You take a deep breath and squeeze your eyes shut.

“I know I’m safe,” you start. “But every time I close my eyes I’m back there with them and I’m cold and I’m hurt. When I sleep I’m tied to that chair again. I don’t know how to make it stop and I’m sorry.” Fresh tears wet your cheeks.

Feyre pulls you closer so you’re practically on her lap. Her own tears wetting your hair. “You saved me, so why am I like this?” You whisper.

“My love.” She coos. “It was a terrifying thing to go through. Your feelings are normal, even if they don’t feel like it.”

Rhys rubs slow circles on your back. “We can help you, love. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” You shrug. “I didn’t think there was anything to do.”

The next night your mates leave no room for argument as they smooshed you between them. You let sleep claim you. Soft talons caress your mental shields until they have a hold on your dreams. Nothing but bliss and welcome darkness keeps you asleep.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

What remains of us, pt. 3

Summary: Teaching Y/N some new tricks while making his way to her heart keeps Wally busy...a little too busy to notice others might want his happiness to crumble and turn Y/N against him.

Warnings: death, angst, mentions of mental health issues, fluff, mentions of a SCHOOL SHOOTING, swearing

Word count: 3.9k

Part 1 Part 2

Y/N sits cross-legged on a desk in the abandoned classroom, arms folded, watching Wally as he lazily tosses a crumpled piece of paper into a trash can. Ever since the music room, they’ve settled into a comfortable coexistence that neither wants to end. While Y/N’s mind occasionally went into overdrive, giving her a thousand reasons to create some distance, her heart, although no longer beating, wasn’t keen on being away for long. After all, Wally kept the sense of dread in the pit of her stomach disappear. All it takes is a smile…a single smile and she’d relax. No one ever made her feel this safe, not even when she was alive.

 "So, tell me, Wally. Any perks to being a ghost? Or is it all doom, gloom, and dramatic monologues?"

Wally smirks, leaning against the desk beside her. "Oh, absolutely. You get to be stuck with me forever. Pretty sweet deal, huh?"

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Wow. Eternal torment. Exactly what I was hoping for when I died."

He catches the way her face warms despite her sarcasm, and his grin widens. "You’re blushing."

"I am not."

"Liar."

Y/N huffs, pushing off the desk. "Let’s see if I can walk through walls to escape this conversation."

"You won’t." He follows her out, chuckling. "You like talking to me too much."

Taking it as a challenge, she rushes through empty classrooms, trying to lose Wally who laughed at her antics. Pressing her lips in a thin line, she hides in the library, behind the shelves, watching Wally run straight through and into the next room.

Chuckling, she leans back on the shelves. He’ll probably spend the next hour trying to find her – he’s not very good at hide and seek. Letting out a heavy breath, she tries to calm her breathing. It’s funny how her lungs still fight for breath after running, even in death. A lot of things have surprised her – she still craves food and can actually taste it, she gets tired, she feels pain, but also happiness and every other emotion. The only difference is: her heart is silent. Oh, and she can’t sleep. That one she hates most of all. Dreams used to be a perfect escape, but now? She actually has to go through the things she wants to ignore.

“Do you mind?” A voice startles her and she jumps in fright.

“Uh…Xavier, am I right?”

He nods, pressing his thin lips in a thinner line. “Yeah. And you’re in the way.”

Y/N steps aside but doesn’t move too far, her curiosity piqued by Xavier’s cold demeanor. He reaches for the book behind her, fingers ghosting over the worn spine before pulling it free. His electric blue eyes flicker to her, unreadable.

“I’ve heard about you,” he says casually, flipping through the pages without looking down.

“Oh?” Y/N crosses her arms. She didn’t expect ghosts to gossip and openly admit it to her face. “What is it they say? Weird, funny, clumsy?”

Xavier smirks, but there’s no humor behind it. “Naïve.”

Her brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

“You trust him too much.” He tilts his head toward the door as if Wally might burst in at any moment. “He’s not telling you everything.”

The sense of dread returns in her stomach, but she forces herself to scoff. “Wally? He’s a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”

Xavier raises a dark brow. “You sure about that?”

Y/N narrows her eyes. “If you have something to say, say it.”

He tucks the book under his arm and steps closer, his presence strangely intense. “There were more of us,” he murmurs. “More ghosts than Wally let on.”

He didn’t let on anything…he never mentioned anything to her.

The room suddenly feels smaller. Y/N grips the edge of the shelf behind her, steadying herself. “You’re lying.”

He tilts his head, studying her reaction. “Am I?”

Before she can push further, the library doors creak open.

“Found you!”

Wally’s voice fills the space like sunlight breaking through a storm, and Y/N instinctively steps back from Xavier. Wally stands at the entrance, hands on his hips, breathless despite not needing air. His brown eyes flicker between her and Xavier, and something shifts in his expression.

Xavier merely smirks. “How predictable.”

Y/N glances between them. The air is thick with unspoken tension. Wally steps forward, placing himself subtly between her and Xavier. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to hide in a library, newbie.”

Y/N forces a smirk, ignoring the way her stomach twists. “I spent my whole life hiding in libraries. Should have known better.”

Wally chuckles, but his eyes don’t leave Xavier. “C’mon, I have something way more fun in mind.” He drapes an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, steering her toward the exit.

She lets him, but not without casting one last glance over her shoulder. Xavier is already flipping through the book again, seemingly unbothered.

As soon as they step into the hallway, Wally’s grip tightens just slightly. “What did he say to you?”

Y/N shrugs. “Not much. Just that you suck at hide and seek.”

Wally snorts, but she doesn’t miss the way his jaw tenses.

He throws on a grin, nudging her playfully. “Well, lucky for you, I’m much better at football.”

She raises a brow. “Is this your way of charming me?”

His grin doesn’t waver. “Is it working?”

She pretends to consider before sighing dramatically. “Fine, I’ll let you teach me. But I swear, if this is just an excuse to tackle me - ”

“Would I do that?” His eyes gleam with mischief, and she can’t help but laugh.

As they walk toward the field, though, the weight of Xavier’s words lingers in her mind. Wally is hiding something. And she’s going to find out what.

The football field is eerily quiet at night, the goalposts casting long, crooked shadows across the empty expanse. The sky is speckled with stars, but Y/N barely notices. Her focus is on Wally, who stands a few feet away, spinning a football between his hands like it’s second nature. The way he moves is effortless, like he was made for this, and for the first time, she wonders what it must have been like to watch him play when he was alive. No wonder he was so popular with the girls…she’d probably be secretly head over heels for him too.

She folds her arms, eyeing the ball warily. “Just so you know, I have terrible hand-eye coordination.”

��All the more reason to practice.” Wally grins, tossing the ball up and catching it with ease. “Come on, I’ll teach you.”

She exhales, rolling her shoulders before stepping forward. “Fine, but don’t expect a miracle.”

He passes her the ball, and she fumbles almost immediately, letting out a frustrated groan as it bounces off her fingers and onto the grass. Wally barks out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Wow.” He places a hand over his heart as if her lack of talent actually pains him. “That was… tragic.”

Y/N huffs, picking up the ball and tossing it back at him, badly. It veers off course, and he lunges to catch it before it hits the ground.

“Okay, okay, new plan,” Wally says, stepping closer. “You need to get a feel for the weight first.”

He moves behind her before she can protest, so close she can feel the ghost of his warmth, not that ghosts are supposed to be warm...But Wally is. His hands slide gently over her wrists, guiding her fingers around the ball. She swallows hard.

"Relax," he murmurs, his voice low, almost teasing. "You’re way too tense."

Easy for him to say. He’s not the one hyperaware of how close they are, how his chest nearly brushes against her back, how his breath tickles the side of her neck. Butterflies! Actual, fluttering, traitorous butterflies stir in her stomach.

"Okay," he continues, oblivious to the way her pulse would be racing if her heart still worked. "Hold it like this." His fingers brush hers, his grip steady as he adjusts her stance. "Now, when you throw, flick your wrist a little, just like that."

She follows his lead, but she barely registers the motion. All she can focus on is the way his voice dips when he speaks close to her ear, the way her skin tingles where he touches her. It’s ridiculous, really, she’s supposed to be dead. She shouldn’t be feeling like this.

Wally, seemingly unaware of her inner turmoil, steps back slightly, watching her attempt another throw. The ball leaves her hand smoother this time, though it still wobbles. He lets out an approving whistle.

"See? You’re getting there."

She turns her head to look at him, their faces suddenly inches apart. She hadn’t realized just how close he still was. Her nose nearly grazes his cheek, and she can see the gold flecks in his dark eyes under the field lights.

"Are we still talking about football?" she asks, her voice quieter than before.

For the first time, Wally hesitates. His smirk falters, just for a second, his eyes flickering down to her lips before he clears his throat and steps back, too fast, too obvious.

"Uh. Yeah. Totally," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/N nods slowly, letting the moment settle between them, the air thick with something unspoken. She tosses the ball up, catching it with a smirk of her own.

"Good," she says lightly, "because I was starting to think you were just looking for an excuse to hold my hand."

Wally groans, covering his face with his hands. "For someone who calls me a jock cliché, you seem to enjoy every bit of it."

Shrugging innocently, she heads to the bleachers. “Maybe I do.”

They both pretend not to notice the way their fingers still tingle, as Wally follows her. Taking a seat a few rows down from her, he glances up with uncertainty.

“You’re staring.”

Clearing her throat, she bites her lower lip and his cheeks darken at the sight and consequent thoughts immediately.

“Are you sure you’re not projecting?”

“Nope! You were definitely staring first. I think I might be winning you over”, he smirks victoriously. “No one can resist this charm!”

Wally stretches out on the bleachers, hands behind his head, while Y/N pulls her knees up, arms wrapped around them.

“I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this,” she mutters, shaking her head. “You’re eighteen.”

Wally turns to her, one brow arching. “I was eighteen.”

“Still are.”

“Physically.” He props himself up on an elbow, looking at her like she’s the one being unreasonable. “Mentally, I’ve attended high school like… five times since I died. Do you know how many books I’ve read? How many new things I’ve learned? I’m practically a walking encyclopedia.”

Y/N gives him a flat look. “You just called yourself a walking encyclopedia. That’s not really helping your case.”

Wally groans, flopping back dramatically. “Okay, fine. But seriously, I’m older than you if we’re counting ghost years. Which means technically, I'm the creepy one.”

She swats at him, nearly falling as she fails to reach him, which only makes him grin.

“That is not how that works.”

“Oh, but it does.” He sits up, suddenly animated, pointing at her like he’s won an argument. “You’re the one crushing on an older man, Y/N.”

Pulling herself down to one row above him, she purses her lips. “I am not crushing on you.”

“Yet.”

She shoves him, laughing despite herself. But in the quiet that follows, she wonders if maybe, just maybe, she already is.

The wind hums, slowly picking up speed. Y/N traces patterns in the dirty bleachers with her fingers. "I never really thought about love," she admits.

Wally rests his arms on his knees. "What do you mean?"

She shrugs. "I was always too busy. Making my parents proud, getting good grades, getting into a good school…College, residency, life. Then, well…" She gestures vaguely at their ghostly existence. “I’ve read so many romance books and watched an insane amount of romcoms, but I’ve never really experienced any of it. All the things I wanted, just…disappeared.”

Wally watches her carefully. "I never really thought about the future," he confesses. "I figured I’d always have more time. Turns out, I didn’t." Huffing, he frowns. “I never fell in love with anyone before, either. I got close once…I thought I’d have someone to share this with, but it didn’t work out.”

“This?” Was Xavier right? Did Wally lie to her?

“I mean life”, he blurts out. “I was pretty popular, had everything going for me. I mean, I like football and I was really good at it, but it’s not something I chose for myself. I played for my mom. She, uh, she really wanted me to go pro.”

Their eyes meet, something heavy passing between them. Y/N looks away first, cheeks turning a darker shade.

"Maybe we’ve got time now," Wally says softly.

She doesn’t answer. Wrapping her hand around his bicep, she leans her head on his shoulder.

Perhaps that says enough.

After a few days of teaching her to toss a football, Wally decided to give her a few ghostly lessons she could use in the spirit world…lessons he didn’t learn until a few years back.

The cafeteria is quiet in the early morning, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly as the lunch lady moves around the kitchen, setting out trays for the day. Outside, the hallways are still empty, but soon, the school will come alive with students; living ones.

Y/N leans against the doorframe, watching Wally carefully.

“Alright,” he says. “Basic ghost physics lesson: We can touch things, yeah, but what you’re grabbing isn’t really the item. It’s like…a duplicate. A placeholder. The real thing resets as soon as you take it.”

Y/N frowns. “So what’s the point?”

“The point,” he says, “is learning how to actually move something. Not just its copy. The trick is to focus. You have to latch onto the real thing, feel the weight, the texture, the way it connects to the world. And then, you gotta make it stay in your hands.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Sounds exhausting.”

“Oh, it is,” he says with a smirk. “That’s why we’re gonna make it interesting.”

Her eyes narrow. “Go on.”

“First one to steal something without it resetting in the living world wins.”

Y/N snorts. “You’re on.”

They creep inside, the scent of fresh bread and coffee lingering in the air. The lunch lady hums to herself as she unpacks a crate of produce, oblivious to the two ghosts slipping past the counter.

Y/N eyes a bag of chips, reaching for it carefully. She reminds herself of what Wally said—feel the weight, the texture. Her fingers close around the bag, and for a moment, she swears she has it. But as soon as she pulls it away, a perfect replica flickers into her grip while the real bag remains untouched on the counter, as if she never moved it at all.

She curses under her breath.

Wally, a few feet away, is eyeing a bright red apple. He exhales slowly, his expression shifting into something serious, focused. His fingers tighten around the fruit, and for a long second, nothing happens. Then, ever so subtly, the apple shifts. The real one. He rolls the apple between his fingers like it’s the easiest thing in the world. It isn’t. She knows that much.

Y/N watches as he lifts it smoothly off the counter. The spot where it sat stays empty.

No regeneration. No reset.

Her jaw drops. “No way.”

Wally grins, triumphantly spinning the apple once more before gripping it solidly. “Way.” He winks at her, tossing the apple up and catching it effortlessly.

Y/N huffs. “Alright, let me try again.”

She refocuses, staring down the bag of chips like it’s personally offended her. She presses her fingers against it, feeling the crinkle of the plastic, the weight of the contents inside. She focuses on making this one, the real one, stay in her grip.

For a second, it works.

The bag lifts, no reset in sight.

Her heart…well, not her heart, but something inside her buzzes in excitement.

Then, without warning, the real bag flickers back into place, and she’s left holding its copy.

“Damn it!” she whisper shouts.

Wally chuckles. “Not bad for a first try. Here, watch.”

He moves toward the stack of trays by the counter, placing a hand on the top one. This time, Y/N studies him closely. She sees the way his brow furrows, the way his shoulders tense as if he’s physically exerting himself.

The tray lifts.

Barely, just an inch, but it lifts.

Then, just as suddenly, it wavers, slipping right back into place. A second later, the tray duplicates into his hands, proving he lost his grip on the real thing.

He groans. “Ugh. See? Even I can’t do it every time.”

Y/N tilts her head. “And yet, you got the apple?”

“Beginner’s luck,” he jokes. “Or maybe I’m just better than you.”

She flicks his ear. “Cheater.”

“Ow,” he grumbles, rubbing the spot. “It’s called strategy.”

“You and your strategies.”

“Hey, you’ll get there,” he says, tossing the apple once before taking a victorious bite. “But until then… I win.”

Y/N glares playfully but secretly, she’s itching to try again. And she will. Because if Wally can do it, then so can she.

“Okay, so…What do you want as your reward?”

Raising his eyebrows, Wally wets his lips. For a moment, his gaze flickers lower, to her supple, parted lips but he quickly averts his eyes to the bags of chips in her hands. “I’ll settle for some chips if you’re willing to share?”

Narrowing her eyes at him, she studies his nervous smile. “Sure. If that’s what you really want?”

Clearing his throat, he nods. “Y-yeah! I love chips!”

Once they devoured the chips, the crowded halls sent them into hiding. Being around the students wasn't enjoyable, for either of them. They waited for the sunset, agreeing to relax on the bleachers again.

Slinging an arm around her shoulders, Wally and Y/N head outside. As they pass by the library’s grand, dust-coated windows, a strange sensation prickles at the back of her neck. Like being watched. Her gaze flickers to the glass, and there he is.

Xavier.

His electric blue eyes are locked onto her, sharp and unreadable, framed by the dim glow of the emergency exit light. The sight of him standing so still, almost blending into the shadows, sends a cold shiver rippling down her spine. Her breath catches, a quiet gasp escaping before she can stop it.

Beside her, Wally tenses. “Are you okay?” Wally furrows his brows, pulling away ever so slightly. His voice is softer now, laced with concern. “I’m sorry I jus –“

“It’s not that”, she cuts him off quickly, shaking her head. Wally hesitates, watching her closely, but the moment she realizes he’s about to pull away entirely, she forces herself to speak.  “I didn’t mind your arm around me”, she clarifies. If anything his touch is warm, grounding. She doesn’t mind it…it feels nice, comforting.

His eyes brighten, relief chasing away the panic. “Yeah?” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, tentative, as if he worries showing too much happiness would scare her away.

“What was it then?” he asks, and she can feel his eyes on her, searching for an answer beyond what she’s willing to give.

Shrugging, she averts her gaze. “I’m just a little cold, I guess.”

Lie.

Wally might not know everything about her yet, but he knows her. And he knows when she’s holding something back.

Taking off his jacket, he drapes it over her. “Here you go”, he murmurs.

Her breath hitches as he cups her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. His touch is careful, as if he’s afraid she might pull away. She doesn’t. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

She leans into his touch without thinking, the warmth of his palm spreading through her like the first rays of morning sunlight. For a moment, it’s easy to forget the eerie gaze lingering behind glass, easy to forget the weight of all the things she doesn’t say.

Her lips curl into a small smile. “You worry too much,” she tells him and he’s not entirely sure if he should just drop this or not, but if she’s not willing to talk to him about it, there’s not much he can do.

“When you’re involved, I’d rather worry too much than not worry enough,” Wally admits.

The sincerity in his voice makes her chest tighten. Here he is, the sweetest man she’s ever met and she’s doubting him. She could just ask him about it, but what if he lies to her face? She’d never be able to relax around him again. She’d lose him and she can’t lose him…he’s all she has.

“Thank you. For caring…and for the jacket.”

“You wear it better than I do.”

Y/N raises a brow. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I doubt that,” he says, leaning in with a teasing glint in his eyes. She scoffs, making him laugh. Whenever he flirts, Y/N scoffs in response yet she never leaves his side. Scoffing might be her love language and if his theory is true, Wally will gladly spend the rest of eternity listening to her scoff at his cheesy pick-up lines.

Relishing in the light pink tint upon her cheeks, Wally offers her his hand. “Would you like to dance with me?”

Squinting at his question, she inhales sharply. “Dance…to what?”

“We don’t need music to dance,” he smirks. “Live a little.”

“I’m literally dead,” she reminds him. “As are you.”

“And yet we’re here.”

She hesitates, then places her hand in his. He pulls her close, guiding her in slow circles. Their bodies brush, lingering a little too long.

"You’re not bad at this," she murmurs.

He smirks. "Don’t sound so surprised."

She rolls her eyes, but her heart isn’t in it. Not when his thumb traces small circles on the back of her hand.

“You always roll your eyes at me,” he states. “Why is that?”

“How honest do you want me to be?”

“Brutally,” he replies instantly.

Drawing in a deep breath, she can’t help the smile spreading across her lips. “You make me nervous.”

“Oh.”

“In a good way”, she admits. “In a way I’m not sure I’m ready to accept yet.”

Grinning, Wally nods. “Okay. I can work with that.”

Rolling her eyes – another part of her love language. Wally won’t forget that anytime soon.

Erasing the distance between their bodies, she leans her head on his chest, her arms wrapping around him. She closes her eyes, inhaling deeply – committing his scent to memory. He smells like laundry detergent and freshly mowed grass…clean and fresh.

Pressing a soft kiss on top of her head, Wally couldn’t suppress his smile even if he tried. He’s happy. For the first time in a long time, he’s truly happy. Humming a soft tune, he continues swaying their bodies in this slow dance, cherishing every moment they spend close for you never know when everything might change.

He learned that lesson the hard way.

[intotheelliwoods]

DID SOMEONE ASK FOR A 2AL/SU AU?

No??....

Too bad! I made one with friends! And you can read more lore here~

Under the cut is more lore for the 2AL boys specifically :)

Sprout and Big Leo were created on Earth! Though their kindergarden was incomplete before it was abandoned in the start of the war. Homeworld didnt think anything would come out of it, but surprise surprise something did- an entire batch of Larimar! Except they were all missing a right arm

Big Leo took on the role of leader of this batch, and joined the side of Earth. Big Leo and Sprout grew particularly close since they also had the same gem placements.

War kept happening, gems shattered around them until it was just Big Leo and Sprout left out of their small kindergarden batch. Then something from the sky, a light or a sound or, a song? Big Leo sacrificed himself and used himself as a shield to protect Sprout, gems corrupted all around including Big Leo, who corrupted in Sprouts arms.

Sprout was the last gem on earth for years and years, and made it his duty to poof and bubble the corrupted gems so they caused no further harm to the planet. He avoided capturing Big Leo though, too many feelings towards that one.

In spare time he carved the temple. Though while in show the temple was of obsidian, this temple is going to be of Avocado Toast, the fusion between himself and Big Leo to remember him well.

Then to his luck and surprise, there was a gem still cooking in his old kindergarden, Poptart! An overcooked larimar but another larimar none the less, from his kindergarden, with the same gem placement as himself and Big Leo. Suffice to say Sprout was super happy to have someone else on earth with him, especially a gem from his same kindergarden with same gem placement!

If you want further lore and story..? good question!

Anyways, I chose larimar since that gemstone in particular is a bit special to me. In addition, in show larimar "carves ice sculptures for the diamonds" but for these guys I decided to extend that to carving more than just ice. They can also carve rock, wood, ect, and act as a subcategory in architecture department! They can summon chisels, swords, and other sharp things from their gems for carping or yknow, poofing- fighting-

[luvsferrariss]

˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ of shadows and sins - OO1

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: Y/n was handpicked by their boss to help the recruiter find new players. However, it was obvious that the man wouldn’t like the girl assisting him, constantly belittling her and mentioning how weak and unqualified she was for the job. But in reality, he knew about her influence and was afraid of being replaced.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ The Salesman x Female Reader (British)

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Warnings: Typical Squid Game elements—blood, weapons, death, etc. Age gap: the reader is between 24-25 years old, while the recruiter is 40. Some angst and feelings of loneliness. The reader lives in Korea but is not Korean; she is British.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Note: Hi loves! I’m making a short series about the salesman. I hope you all like it! English isn’t my first language, so there may be mistakes—sorry about that!

next part here ! 🤍

You sighed as you watched your coworker fail once again. The man he was trying to talk to didn’t care at all and walked right past him. You just sighed, rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms, leaning against the metro wall near the stairs.

The recruiter began walking in your direction with his chin held high, a proud—or perhaps wounded—expression on his face, and you laughed at his frustration.

“What happened, Mr. ‘I-can-do-everything’?” you teased. He simply walked past you, heading up the station stairs.

“Shut up,” he muttered, and you chuckled, following behind.

“Did you manage to do anything at all?” he asked as soon as he noticed you catching up on the stairs.

“While you wasted time talking to one man, I got four. All of them on the verge of bankruptcy—desperation was almost funny, I nearly felt bad for them.” You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your beige trench coat. “With their financial struggles and my pretty face, did you really think they wouldn’t accept?” You smirked, stopping in front of him and framing your face with your hands as if showing off.

He simply walked past you, bumping your shoulder.

“You’re so full of yourself, seriously… What’s even fun about your game? No one actually likes Gonggi that much,” he scoffed.

You just shrugged. “That’s what I was told to do. And your job isn’t that exciting either, right? At least mine is getting results. Yours, on the other hand…” You glanced up at the sky as you stepped out of the train station—it was already nighttime.

“Can you shut up for a single minute? I already have to deal with you all the time. For the love of—just stop talking, girl,” he snapped.

You simply looked at him, already used to his sudden outbursts.

“Oh, baby, don’t be sad. Tomorrow will be your day, and you’ll manage to recruit some people. Besides, aren’t you the boss’s impeccable, invaluable favorite recruiter?” You pouted playfully, stopping in front of him again, this time by your car. You cupped his face in your hands, only for him to push them away and roll his eyes.

“I’m not arguing with a brat… Why don’t you just go back to your family?” he said, setting his black suitcase down and rubbing his chin. “Oh, right. I forgot. You don’t have anyone because no one can stand you. Your parents abandoned you, and your fiancé cheated on you…”

He spoke slowly, and when his gaze met yours, he noticed a brief flicker of vulnerability—but you quickly masked it with a smile.

He almost felt bad for you. Almost. But he didn’t regret saying it, and he would do it again if necessary.

“Whatever. Family is just a burden. I don’t need anyone, and I can live just fine on my own. Besides, maybe you should be worried, huh? The boss would never have sent me to you if he didn’t think you needed help. Maybe he realized just how useless you are.” You winked and got into your car.

As you started the engine and rolled down the window, the man remained standing there, lost in his thoughts, trapped by your words.

“Hey, baby, don’t walk around alone at night. This area is dangerous,” you teased before driving off.

He simply clenched his jaw, a growing resentment bubbling inside him.

He saw you as a threat. You would never take his place.

( . . . )

When you arrived at your apartment, you tossed your keys onto the table and hung your coat in the closet. You placed your shoes inside as well before closing the door.

With a sigh, you headed straight to the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the hot shower—you really needed this. The water cascaded down your body, relaxing you, and a tired sigh escaped your lips.

Your mother and father would never have been proud of the person you became, but that was their fault. They were the ones who raised you the “right” way. Any mistake was met with punishment.

You became cold, sarcastic, and quiet around others. But no one ever really knew you. No one saw the pain, the fear, or the scars you carried from a disturbing childhood.

You had a slight fear of showing emotions or affection to anyone. There was only one person you had ever felt comfortable with, but even they betrayed you. So now, you truly had no one.

That day in the alley changed your life—but you still wondered if it was for better or worse. Everything felt strange. You felt strange.

Some days, your emotions felt numb. Other days, you just wanted to break down and cry with someone. But everyone you had trusted either betrayed you or left you traumatized. You would never trust anyone again.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turned off the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel, drying your hair with another. You went to your room, grabbed some pajamas from your closet, and got dressed. After brushing and drying your hair, you applied some perfume and walked into the kitchen to make some tea.

One of the perks of living alone and having no friends was that you could use the guest room however you wanted—so you turned it into a library.

Once your tea was ready, you grabbed a book and headed to the balcony of your penthouse. The cold air brushed against your skin, but somehow, it didn’t bother you.

[wingledinglesstuff]

Don’t Worry, Baby

Hyunjin x Fem Reader

Requested by: @hyuneskkami

Word count: 985

Genres: Fluff, highschool, burnout, comfort

These days it really felt like you went to school just to wait to go home.

Your teachers’ voices tended to drone on in your head, but you never really heard anything. Just the soft tick of the clock on the wall—waiting for the next bell to ring until the last one chimed and you could walk out of the door and carry yourself home. 

It had been like this for a while now.

You used to enjoy school, the learning, the friends, but lately with so many classes and the pressures to do well and maneuver life, things got hard. Things got muddled. Your own inspirations and motivations fogged over, leaving you barely picking up a pencil.

Today was no different, a sigh leaving your lips as the last bell rang. It felt like you’d been holding your breath all day. Gathering your bag, you start to leave the classroom, abandoning the chemistry lab to start your walk home. 

“Hey, ___, wait up!” You hear. A familiar voice, one who always drew you out of these odd days. 

Turning, you couldn’t help but smile a little as you see Hyunjin jogging over to catch up with you, a warm and excitable smile on his own face. 

“Hey..” You say, slowing your steps to fall in line with his own. 

“Do you wanna hang out today?” He asked, his voice warm and presence next to you even warmer.

Alas, you frowned and sighed, turning your eyes to the sidewalk as it moved along under your feet.

“I.. I really need to catch up on some work.” You admit, the weight not quite off your shoulders. You’d been pushing back your assignments, leaving them until the last minute to turn them in with half-hearted effort later.

Hyunjin, however, seemed to know that you really wouldn’t work on it at home. So he pressed, “Me too,” a grin brightens his face again, a hand coming to tug a strand of your hair gently. Teasing, like always. “We can work together if you want.”

Your face grew a little warm at that. Maybe a study buddy was the motivation you needed…regardless, the company would be nice. So, you relented and nodded, a small smile gracing your lips as well.

“Alright, sure..” 

⊹₊⟡⋆｡°✩｡°⋆⊹₊⟡

The walk home to your house wasn’t long, and the air slowly chilled on your skin. Hyunjin followed you into your home, where the warm air was a relief. Toeing off your shoes and sweaters, you took him upstairs to your room.

You felt your face grow hot immediately after you opened the door—it had grown a bit messy, your lack of motivation following you home even to your comfort space.

“Sorry.. um….” You started to pick up the clothes strewn about your room, the messy textbooks that littered your desk.

But Hyunjin just smiled and chuckled, shaking his head and going to sit down on your bed comfortably. “Don’t worry about it—my room looks worse.” He assures you. 

The thought was..comforting, to say the least. Maybe you weren’t the only one struggling these days. 

Going to join him on your bed, you sit crisscross in your uniform, taking out your notebooks and assigned homework. You already felt reluctant to do it—but a blanket draping over your lap interrupts your thoughts.

Hyunjin had draped it over your legs with a polite smile, speaking softly again to you. “Here, it’s pretty cold.” 

His eyes seemed to admire the rosiness in your cheeks whenever he treated you so kindly. Turning away again, you both quietly got to work on your respective assignments. For some reason, just having him next to you, knowing he was there, made you feel..a little better. Your pencil moved across the page easier than it had in weeks, and anytime you paused, Hyunjin leaned over to offer his advice.

Before you knew it, you had finally finished a whole paper. Before the day it was due.


Hyunjin smiles and takes it from you, pretending to look it over while rubbing his chin.

“Mhm..mhm.. looks correct.”

You can’t help but laugh out loud at his “teacher” impression, snatching your homework back. “Okay okay whatever.. like you can do biology calculations anyways.”

“Hey! I helped you, didn’t I?” Hyunjin quipped back, grinning and laughing with you.

The sun had fallen just on the crest of your window, the room becoming a dull, warm shade of marigold. Your eyes drew to the clouds and neighborhood resting out your window, and let out a soft sigh. This might’ve been the most relaxed you had been in.. a while.

It was nice.

Hyunjin nudges you after a bit of quiet, his smile softer. “You okay?”

A tiny smile tugs the corners of your mouth. You nod in return, “Yeah.”

With that, he seems to almost relax. He worried about you, even when you didn’t notice it. 

An arm suddenly and gently comes around your shoulders, and he pulls you into his side. It surprised you, but it wasn’t unpleasant..

Despite the blush in your cheeks, you pressed your head into his shoulder, letting him rub your arm up and down in a comforting motion. You glanced down into his lap, where his sketchbook had sat. 

Your fingers couldn’t help but reach out, tracing the lines he’d drawn. It was your room, sketched just as it was. But he made it look..beautiful.

He smiled sheepishly, watching you appreciate his light sketches.

“Sorry.”

You lift your head now, raising your brows to him. “For what?”

Hyunjin just smiled more, looking embarrassed.

“Well, I.. didn’t have any work to do. I just.. missed you.” He admits.

A little part of your heart swells at that. You give him a gentle nudge with your shoulder before settling your head back onto his shoulder. “..stupid.” You mumble.

He chuckled at that, giving you a little squeeze of a hug.

“Yeah… Stupid.”

Thank you so much for reading! I will be taking more requests if anyone is interested!

[yanderes-galore]

for the 16th rivalry between yandere lmk wukong and macaque?? please

Hm... I can try some rivalry HCs, sure!

Yandere! Sun Wukong vs Macaque

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive behavior, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Violence, Attempted kidnapping mentioned, Isolation, Jealousy, Dubious relationship.

I think this is a cool idea considering how their dynamic and characters are portrayed in canon.

After all, Sun Wukong and Macaque are meant to be opposites of one another.

They were once sworn brothers and friends, then after Macaque was left behind they were enemies.

Later on they become 'friends' again... but imagine if they both got attached to the same person while being enemies?

Maybe you meet Sun Wukong first, a known hero who gets all the fame.

You may even be close to the monkey king similar to MK, making you both friends.

In this case, Macaque's obsession over you would be to get back at Wukong.

He doesn't want to see the other monkey happy after just abandoning him.

Then while he's originally hunting you down out of spite... Turns out he can see why Wukong enjoys your company.

Alternatively, If Macaque gets obsessed first, he may also use it against Wukong.

Macaque is naturally manipulative, it would not surprise me if he used you to taunt Wukong.

After all, Wukong is beloved by many, but Macaque bets he isn't adored by a special someone.

This ends up making Wukong curious about you.

At the time Macaque wasn't dating you and was lying to mess with Wukong, which made the monkey king look into you.

Unfortunately now both monkeys begin to fight for your affection because Macaque can tell Wukong is going to take you from him... like he's taken everything else.

Another thing I'd like to note about this concept is the fact they seem rather evenly matched.

Macaque is quite literally meant to be Wukong's shadow, they have nearly the same abilities.

Clones, shapeshifting, although they have different fighting styles, they're very similar to one another with the exception of a few skills.

Their motives would also differ between one another.

Wukong tends to lean protective most of the time, while Macaque tends to lean possessive.

However, that does not mean they both aren't capable of these traits... That's just where they tend to lean towards.

I was going to say their rivalry would be petty, but that's only if they were on good terms.

Since Macaque is scared of abandonment, he'd probably aim to get rid of Wukong permanently if he felt you were going to be taken from him.

Meanwhile, Wukong doesn't trust Macaque to not do anything cruel with you.

They're both scared to lose you to the other, but again, different motives.

Wukong thinks you're going to get hurt, Macaque doesn't want to be hurt again...

Which makes both monkeys decide they should try to keep you away from the other.

I do think their rivalry would get violent but they'd never get to the point of killing one another as one of them will always retreat.

Macaque is always following you around like a shadow, hoping he'll get your attention with his sweet words.

Wukong warns you about him, but he's no better honestly.

Macaque stalks you through the shadows, Wukong 'watches over you' as different animals.

See? There's little difference between them but motive and method.

The two still stalk you, the two still fight for you, they're pretty much the same.

Just because Wukong isn't sly and overly charismatic as Macaque doesn't mean he isn't manipulating you in some way.

Both of them want to isolate you, both of them want you to themselves...

Seriously, is there much of a difference between 'protecting you' and 'isolating you' when it comes to them?

No, No there isn't.

Not only that but their fights are nearly catastrophic.

They're both ridiculously strong and determined to get their way.

It may even be a bit upsetting because Macaque just wants to find someone to give him attention?

He definitely takes this rivalry personally since Macaque thinks Wukong has everything.

When in reality, Wukong is probably in a similar boat.

They both just want attention and love from one specific person.

Which, unfortunately, happens to be you.

I can see them both being clingy and brutal in their obsession.

They both like to be playful and clingy with you, completely unwilling to share you.

They both have their sights on you as their partner, probably even for life if they can get you immortal.

Just imagine how their fights would go...

It would not be surprising if they came out of it bleeding, still growling at one another like feral animals until you step in to break things up.

While they may not kill one another, they often drag you around due to their rivalry.

For example, there were probably many times Macaque tried to drag you off into one of his shadow portals... Only for Wukong to step in.

Or maybe Wukong's trying to keep you on Flower Fruit Mountain to hide you from Macaque... Only for the shadow monkey to know exactly where you went.

I feel the only way to stop this rivalry, or at least make them stop being so brutal, would be after the Azure Lion arc.

By that point they're on better terms with one another, not quite friends but not entirely enemies...

Yet they both can't seem to accept the fact they both love you.

They'd tone down the fighting by this point but you'd still need to step in to soothe them.

For now they can accept the fact you love them both... yet they always want more.

They're greedy.

So even if you can calm them, they're still possessive.

They both want you as their own, to claim you and mark you as their chosen partner.

But, neither of them can get that far as the other one will stop them.

While they will accept the fact they both protect you, they both want you safe, and overall have the same goal to keep you happy...

They aren't happy until one of them wins.

They may not kill one another, but their fights seem to get close.

You worry for them, you really do.

Yet there's nothing you can do but let what's going on play out.

Even if you made a choice on which one you want as a partner, if you're even interested... The other would never accept that choice.

What might be worse is you probably don't even reciprocate.

You don't love them like they love you, you see them as friends.

Even if one of them won, you wouldn't be happy.

Either option still makes you isolated and hidden away from anyone else.

It's funny how similar they are... in a morbid way.

It just depends on what you prefer.

A manipulative monkey who wants to treat you like a toy he can't share...

Or would you rather have a monkey who thinks hiding you away will keep you safe and happy on a mountain?

Honestly, in the end, who wins doesn't matter for you... If there's even a winner.

You'll just be given the same outcome even if there's one who wins...

Maybe it's a good thing if neither of them have you and they continue to fight....

[fashionteahouse]

Reader x Embry

Embry and reader are friends, and one day, while at Emily and Sam's house, Quil makes a bet with Embry that he'll imprint on reader before Embry finds an imprint. Little did the pack know that Embry already imprinted on reader and they've been friends with benefits for a while until Embry is on patrol and his mind slips and everyone finds out he imprinted on reader and he has an idea on how he's gonna ask reader to be his girlfriend and finally tell her that he imprinted.

okie dokie ! hope you enjoy :)

losing is the new winning - embry x reader

Knees were touching as you sat side by side with Embry on the beach. The spring was enjoyable. It wasn’t too hot. It wasn’t too cold.

The smell of left over rain was resting in both of your noses as you both joked around.

The playful, “Stop” was coming out of your mouth as he chuckled at your cute smile.

From a far, Quil looks over and slightly rolled his eyes. Embry abandoned the game as soon as he saw that you were strolling on the beach.

“Hey, you’re lucky she’s a girl or else I would’ve thought you were cheating on me.” Quil tells Embry after you said goodbye to Embry and left the beach.

“Shut up.”

Quil doesn’t bother to sober up his laugh as he shakes his head slightly.

They both enter Sam and Emily’s home. Emily was chastising Jared for sticking his hand in the pot to steal a piece of meat.

She waved her wooden spoon with a hand on her hip.

“I don’t know where your hands have been! You could’ve been digging in your ass for all I know.”

“Come on, Em. You always see me wash my hands.”

“He didn’t deny the digging in his ass part.” Paul jokes, cackles from the other boys were heard and Jared is about to hit him for saying such thing but Sam tells them to cut it out.

“Im eating.” Sam tells them.

They respectfully switch the subject with the thanks to Quil.

“I bet, before you imprint on anyone else, it will be with Y/N.”

“Whatever.” Embry rolled his eyes. But his heart picked up a bit at the fact that he was very close to being correct.

“What? Afraid that you will lose?” Quil smirked.

“Losing is the new winning.” Embry says and shoved food into his own mouth.

After the kitchen and dining room was cleaned up, the others lounged in the living room, some went home

The deep rustle of a chuckle emitted from Embry’s throat as he leans against the wall. He was talking on the phone.

“So, when can I see you?”

It’s silent as he listens to your response.

“Alright.” he says with a grin and hangs up the phone.

“Alright, I’m out.” Embry says to Sam.

Sam nods him a goodbye.

Opening the door, you beam as you hug him tight with your arms around his neck. He sways you a bit as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I missed you.” you say softly.

“I just saw you today.” he says with a grin.

“So?”

“Okay..I missed you too.” he admits with finality and you tug him to the couch.

You both don’t say anything but you two look at each other before chuckling.

“What?” you both say in sync.

You both laugh again.

He graced your collarbone as he tilts his head a little at you, “So, what did you do after you left?”

“Eat. You?” you say quietly.

“Eat.” he says leaned in a bit. You give him a shy smile as you both lean in to a gentle kiss. You both pull back a little and the twinkle was shot through both set of eyes.

You both lean back in.

You smile a bit as your bare body was pressed against his shoulder and arm as Embry’s underwear is halfway down. He stares up at the ceiling as he felt buzzed with erotica.

It was the best drug as he lay in your soft bed. He only gives a crooked grin, a grin that you thought was adorable.

Your tongue and lips weren’t shy on his ear. You wanted to make sure he felt good.

“Do you feel good?” you whisper in a delicate tone.

“Yes.” he says breathlessly.

“Good. I want you to always feel good…” you whisper in the same voice and give him an open kiss that smoothly transferred into you sucking on his earlobe.

“Okay?” you whisper again when you let his ear go, letting your lips brush upon his ear.

“O-okay.” he says as he felt the powerful tingles take over his body. The slow and sensual stroke that you were giving his hard but velvety length was now crescendoing as he groaned, the groan that you love so much.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he breathed out shakily as the light and white substance spilled over your hand as you kept pumping. You kept kissing his ear with a slight breathy laugh.

Quil’s hand snaps in front of Embry’s face, he ignored the scowl that Embry threw at him.

“Did you not hear Sam?” Quil blinked at him.

“What?”

“We gotta go.” Quil says with annoyance. Embry jumps up.

He couldn’t wait to get it over with. Patrol would be over and he could race back to his safe haven. To the person that always made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Your laugh, your breathy laugh came to mind. From there, Embry could see your eyes in his mind.

“Embry.”

Embry was startled. He looked around and realized that Sam’s wolf was in front of him.

“Wait, Embry did you imprint?”

It was Seth. Embry didn’t like his curious mind at that moment.

A collection of voices circled his head, they know knew that he kept the imprinting a secret.

“Embry, congratulations.”

It was Jared.

“I fucking knew it! You never turn down bets. Should’ve known when you said some bullshit like losing is the new winning.”

Quil.

“Are you going to tell her?”

Jacob asks his friend.

Embry then thinks of how he could possibly tell you. He didn’t want you to freak out. Things were good, no, they were great. He didn’t want to mess it up. He refused to mess things up.

Embry was nervous as he listened to the phone trill. A tiny bit of him was hoping you didn’t pick up, but you did. You always did.

“Hey…Are you home?”

“Yeah. Miss me?” you tease.

A smile graced his lips as he says, “Yeah. I do…I actually want to take you out.”

“Oh…Where?”

“Somewhere we can get full. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

Walking to his car was nerve wracking for you. You shake your head subtly as you just chanted to yourself, “It’s only Embry.”

“Hey.” you say once you had your seatbelt on.

“Hey..You look good.”

You look down with a breathy voice with a meek smile, “Thanks.”

You were about to put your coat on, you were indeed full.

But, Embry tells you to wait.

You look at him in confusion but the waiter and waitress brings out a special plate.

You look up with a shocked expression. You look back down to read what it says to make sure you weren’t hallucinating.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your hands were placed on your chest as your smile was lifted on your face.

You simply had no words.

Embry was nervous until you bursted out a yes.

He then relaxed in his chair with a sigh and takes your hand.

It felt real. The connection with you felt so real. More believable.

His hand however was slightly sweaty as you walked with him to the dark beach. The moonlight and the distance fire was the only thing that was the light sources.

“An imprint. A soulmate. A soul bind. A connection to the soul like no other. The other half to the wolf. The person that completes the shifter. The bond so great, nothing could tear them apart with exception of death.”

You were stuck to watching the old man’s mouth speak.

“Wow. That story was beautiful.” you whisper to Embry as you both slowly walked along the beach, away from the others.

You were close to him as the night air became more chilly.

“Yeah..What would you do if it was real? If it was true?” Embry asks quietly.

You shrug with a smile as you look at the moon.

“I don’t know…That’s kind of cool..A person that won’t ever leave your side. A soulmate. Sounds romantic.”

“So…You don’t think it takes away one’s choice?”

“No…The soul knows what it wants.” you answer and you take a peak at him, “What about you?”

“What?”

“Do you think it would take away one’s choice? Would you want…A soulmate that would be at your side forever?”

Its quiet for a moment before he looks at you. A look that made your stomach jump with excitement. You couldn’t quite explain it.

“No. I don’t think it takes away someone’s choice..I would love to have a soulmate to be by my side forever. I would want you to be my soulmate.” he says as he brushed his fingers across your cheekbone.

You smile as you look down.

“Would you want to be my soulmate?” he asks quietly.

“Of course I would…I can’t explain it…But, it feels like it was always supposed to be like this.”

“I feel the same way too.”

You look back up with a smile.

The kiss was sweet but passionate. You clutch to him as you both sigh with contentment as you both breathe each other in.

He pulls away as he looks at you, both hands on your back.

“What you heard tonight…Is true. You’re my soulmate Y/N.”

The silence scared him. He prepared himself mentally and emotionally for you to walk away with disgust. To call him a freak. To curse him for ruining your life.

Your smile scared him even more. He wasn’t expecting it.

“Im your..Imprint?”

He nods.

“Cool…So, when can I see your wolf.”

He relaxed as he displays a happy grin.

“Whenever you want.”

He couldn’t help but kiss you again. You didn’t mind, you felt that his lips were perfect against yours. As if they were made for your mouth. You couldn’t have been more happier to have someone forever be by your side.