#you were just not cared for as a child and made to feel that was your fault

[sunni-stuff]

People are judgmental. Some think they aren't, others don't mean to be, and then there are those who do it on purpose and simply don't care.

Parents are guilty of this.

Parents who pay you to teach their kids do this.

But the worst offenders?

Wives. 

Particularly those with too much free time—gossiping Gertrude's who'd rather nitpick and judge than deal with the boredom of daytime TV and their kids screaming in the background. You’ve dealt with a handful before—a crack in the system that always rippled right under your skin whenever one of those vultures threw out a backhanded compliment.  

“You’re so patient with the kids. I could never do what you do—how do you even manage?”  

“Must be nice having all that time off during the summer. A little vacation every year, huh?”  

“Teaching must be so rewarding. Though I imagine it’s not really about the money, is it?”  

Each one, a subtle dig disguised as flattery, like they couldn’t help but twist the knife just a little deeper. 

If there was one thing you’d learned about this job, it was to always kill them with kindness. The rumor mill among parents was ruthless, and the wrong rumor could ripple out and jeopardize your career. So, you’d mastered the art of the polite smile, the well-timed thank you, and the effortless small talk. It was a strategy that had served you well, keeping any overly curious mothers at bay.

Still, these women were relentless. They circled like hawks, always looking for an opening to pry into your life or make veiled comments about your parenting. You’d never given them the satisfaction of slipping up—until the day you almost did.

The sun was setting, the air brisk and tinged with the promise of winter as parents gathered their children. Little voices chattered away as teachers handed over day charts, neatly summarizing each child’s activities. Standing at the cubbies, you were bundling up Adira. Her small frame was snug in her sweater, jacket zipped up to her chin, and scarf tucked securely around her neck. She fidgeted as you worked, barely able to stay still with how much excitement bubbled in her tiny frame.

Her voice was high-pitched and animated as she launched into a story, her words tumbling over each other in her eagerness to share. “Messy man said, we play trains when he comes back!” she chirped, her dark eyes wide with delight.

You paused, your fingers lingering on the last button of her jacket. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you straightened her scarf. “Oh, did he now?”

Adira nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing. “Yep! He said, “Adira, we make the best train track ever!” Her imitation of Simon’s deep voice was laughably exaggerated, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.” We gonna play with the biiig track!” She spread her arms wide for emphasis, nearly toppling over from the effort.

The mention of Simon was enough to draw some attention from the other parents nearby. You could feel their eyes darting your way, their curiosity almost palpable. Simon’s occasional appearances to pick up Adira hadn’t gone unnoticed, and the whispers had already started. Who was this tall, broad man with a thick accent? Was he Adira’s father? A boyfriend? The air was thick with silent speculation.

Ignoring the countless eyes and ears listening in on your harmless conversation, you assured Adira. “Well, if messy man promised, he’ll keep it,” Simon had made it clear that he intended to be a constant presence in Adira’s life, and so far, he’d stuck to his word.

As you stood and picked up her small bag, a sharp voice interrupted the moment.

"Well, aren’t you just the picture-perfect little family?”

Your polite smile returned instantly, masking the irritation that flared at the condescending tone. Turning, you saw one of the daycare moms—Linda, if you remembered correctly—standing there with her perfectly manicured nails wrapped around her designer purse. Her son trailed behind her, nose buried in a tablet.

“Evening, Linda,” you said evenly, keeping your tone light. “How’s Ethan doing?

She waved a dismissive hand, her eyes already scanning Adira with that overly curious gaze that made your skin crawl. “Oh, he’s fine. But I couldn’t help overhearing... this ‘Messy man’ your little one mentioned. Is he... new in your life?”

Ah, there it was—the opening she was fishing for. 

Adira, oblivious to the undercurrents of adult conversation, grinned up at Linda uncharacteristically, the joy she felt for Simon completely expunging her normal glaring behavior. “Messy man makes pancakes! But they go splat!” She threw her hands out dramatically, mimicking the chaos Simon often caused in the kitchen.

Goddammit, poor Adira revealed too much to the wrong person, and you could already see the cogs turning in Linda's head. Forcing a chuckle, you reached for Adira’s hand. “Messy man is her nickname for Simon, her dad. He’s stationed overseas, so she gets pretty excited when he’s home.”

Linda’s perfectly arched eyebrow lifted slightly, clearly surprised. “Oh, I see. Military man, huh? I suppose that explains why we’ve never seen him around.”

You gave Linda your most neutral expression, taking notice of the other moms matching from behind her. “He’s been busy, but he’s doing his best to be here when he can.”

"Oh, I see. I simply would've never guessed you were married. You never wear a ring," Linda remarked, her tone dripping with subtle judgment.

You knew what she was doing. It was a carefully laid trap, baited to catch you in a corner. If you rebuffed her comment, if you made a scene, it would only give her more ammunition to spread rumors. These women didn’t care for nuances; they thrived on gossip, and the topic of marriage—or rather, the lack of a visible wedding ring—would be a field day for them. They’d ride that horse straight to hell, and you'd be left cleaning up the mess.

With the growing number of parents in earshot, you understood that this wasn’t just a comment; it was a test. You had to choose your words carefully. It wasn’t just about keeping things smooth in the moment—it was about protecting your future.

You gave a small, practiced smile, maintaining your composure as you slipped Adira’s bag onto your shoulder. “I don’t wear my ring because I work with children. It could get caught in their hair, or worse, I could lose it.” You met her gaze with a calm confidence that bordered on dismissive.

“That’s understandable, dear. We all have kids after all!” Lina laughed, her tone attempting to sound warm and genuine, but it was too polished, too forced. The laughter rang hollow, like a poorly executed attempt to mask her true intentions. “Does this mean we’ll finally get to meet him at the fundraiser this weekend? We’ve all been here for so long, and not a single glimpse of your beloved other half. Right, ladies?”

Her words floated in the air, sharp with insinuation. The smile she wore was one of practiced sweetness, but the glint in her eyes was anything but kind. She knew what she was doing—attempting to pull you further into her web, hoping to get a reaction that would either reveal more or, better yet, give her ammunition to fuel the rumors she clearly wanted to start.

A few of the other women murmured in agreement, their eyes flicking from you to each other, already whispering amongst themselves. They were all waiting for a response, and the pressure began to build in the pit of your stomach.

“Yes, he is.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could even process them, your own response surprising you as much as it did the group of wives surrounding you. You felt a jolt in your chest, your heart picking up pace as the reality of what you had just said began to sink in. What the fuck did you just do?

The laughter from Linda faltered for a split second, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed your words. The others exchanged glances, some of their faces lighting up with an almost predatory curiosity, while others masked their thoughts behind polite smiles. You could almost hear the gears turning in their heads—oh, this was going to be something they could use.

The tension in the air thickened, and you suddenly felt exposed, as if every secret you’d carefully kept tucked away was now dangling on the edge of a cliff. You’d just handed them the perfect piece of gossip, but what would it lead to? Would they use it against you, twist it into something worse? You hadn’t planned for any of this—hell, you hadn't even planned on saying anything at all—but now that it was out there, you had to somehow steer this conversation. 

You had to control the narrative, or risk letting it spiral completely out of your hands. 

Your mind races, trying to formulate a response, but everything seems so loud—your thoughts, the laughter, the eyes watching you. How could you backpedal without it seeming like a lie? How could you walk that fine line between the truth and keeping your personal life hidden?

"Yes, Simon’s coming," you added quickly, trying to steady your breath. "But, you know... he’s not really into the whole fundraiser thing. He’s more of a stay-at-home guy, a bit of a quiet one, really. I’ll be there though, and we’re looking forward to it." You tried to sound casual, but the flicker of doubt in your voice betrayed you. 

The women around you didn’t miss a beat, though. The moment had been set, and now it was only a matter of what they would do with the information. 

“Well, I look forward to seeing you.” Lina’s voice was dripping with a false sweetness, and you could feel the weight of her gaze as she gave you one last look. Her eyes lingered a bit longer than necessary, as if trying to peel back layers, searching for some crack to exploit. Then, with a nod, she steered Ethan away, her entourage of women following closely behind, their chatter rising in the air like a distant murmur. The click of their heels echoed as they disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, frozen in place.

"And so, that's what happened," you finished, your voice trailing off as you leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to gauge Simon's reaction.

Simon blinked up at you from where he was sitting on the floor, his focus still mostly on Adira, who was happily arranging her toy train with her blocks, making a makeshift kingdom. He didn’t seem phased, just a little confused. "You want me to pretend to be your husband?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before he let out a chuckle, shaking his head slightly, his eyes filled with that familiar warmth. "Out of all the things I've done in my life, this has to be the funniest, love.”

You blinked, momentarily thrown by the unexpected nickname. It felt oddly intimate, a shift in the dynamic between you and Simon that you hadn’t anticipated. Love. It wasn't what you'd expected to hear from him, not in this context, not when everything felt so messy and uncertain. But there it was, slipping out so naturally from him, like he'd always called you that, like he'd been in your life much longer than he really had.

Your heart skipped a beat, the sound of Adira’s laughter in the background making the moment feel surreal. It should have been funny—this whole situation, with you essentially asking Simon to pretend to be your husband for the sake of those gossiping women. But instead, you felt something else, something soft and unfamiliar tightening in your chest.

“Did you just call me that?” You couldn't help but ask, your voice a little quieter than you intended.

Simon paused, his playful smile faltering for a second as he caught the look on your face. “I—yeah, I guess I did,” he replied, his tone a touch more uncertain now. He glanced down at Adira, who was happily stacking blocks at his feet, then back to you. “It was just a slip of the tongue. Didn’t mean anything weird by it.”

“I’m not exactly husband material, you know,” he added lightly, his voice teasing. “I’m more of a... messy man.”

You chuckled at that, shaking your head. "A messy man, huh?"

He nodded, grinning. “Yeah, but I’m good at it. Just ask Adira.”

Adira, hearing her name, immediately let out a squeal of approval. “Messy man!” she giggled, throwing a block in Simon’s direction, her tiny hand pointing at him with delight.

"So, what's the plan here then?" That easy grin back on his face, his eyes still dancing with humor, but there was something underneath it—something you couldn’t quite place. “You want me to just walk into a room and act like we’re a picture-perfect couple?”

The way he said it made you laugh a little, though there was a slight edge of uncertainty to it. You found yourself shifting uncomfortably, knowing you had no real plan for what came next. It wasn’t like you had a relationship with Simon beyond the occasional dinner and time spent with Adira, and yet, here you were, asking him to play a role in your life, one that might end up blurring lines you didn’t fully understand.

“Well, you don’t have to pretend, exactly,” you said, running a hand through your hair, suddenly feeling all the weight of the day settling in. “I just... I just need you to be there. You know, to back me up, to—” You paused, glancing over at Simon again. “I guess I just don’t want them thinking I’m alone in all of this. It’s bad enough that has already started.”

Simon’s gaze softened as he leaned back in his seat, watching you with a quiet understanding. "You're not alone in this," he said, his voice steady. “And I’m here. You don’t need a ring or a title for that.”

The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten again, but this time it was different. His words weren’t a joke or a half-hearted attempt to make you feel better—they were real. He was offering something more than just pretending for the sake of others. He was offering his presence, his support.

For a moment, you forgot about everything else. The plans, the expectations, the pressure. Instead, all that mattered was Simon sitting across from you, smiling at you like you weren't asking for something too much, like it wasn’t strange to think of him in your life like this.

“Thank you,” you murmured. "Really."

He gave a small nod, then grinned, shifting his attention back to Adira, who had managed to get half the blocks stacked to an impressive height. “It’s nothing. Besides, I think Adira’s got the best part of this deal anyway.”

You glanced over at your daughter, who was watching both of you with wide eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. Adira was your source of strength, a beacon that pushed you forward, her smile alone gave you determination.  “Alright, let’s figure out what married people do.”

"I know just who to call." Simon reached for his phone, the battered thing covered in scratches, an old case and sporting a broken screen from a hazardous drop. Upon seeing it, the first thought running through your head was, how the fuck was it still usable?

Price’s living room radiated warmth and history, a perfect mix of domestic coziness and military precision. The centerpiece was a sturdy stone fireplace, its mantle adorned with framed photos of Price and his wife, Melanie. In some, they stood arm in arm at scenic locations; in others, Price was in uniform, the edges of his cap sharp against the backdrop of distant skies. Above the fireplace hung a shadow box displaying medals and insignias, each one polished to a shine, speaking volumes about his service.

Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with everything from military strategy texts to well-worn novels. On one shelf sat a small globe and a model of a Spitfire plane, a nod to his admiration for history. A comfortable, overstuffed armchair, complete with a folded tartan blanket, sat near the fire. The coffee table bore faint scratches, evidence of years of use, and atop it lay an open newspaper, a mug of tea, and a small dish of biscuits.

You sat stiffly on the plush sofa, feeling distinctly out of place amidst this blend of home and honor. The ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner filled the silence as you watched Simon talk to Price in the adjoining kitchen. Occasionally, their eyes flicked toward you, and you pretended not to notice, your gaze wandering instead to a black-and-white photo of a younger Price standing with a group of soldiers, all grinning ear to ear.

The awkwardness of the situation weighed on you like a heavy blanket. This wasn’t exactly how you envisioned your day—asking Price, of all people, to help stage your fake relationship. But you were in too deep now to back out.

In the kitchen, Price rubbed his hand over his mouth, barely concealing the grin that tugged at his lips. A low chuckle escaped as he grabbed a cup of coffee, shaking his head at Simon, who stood across from him, arms folded, his expression far more serious than the moment warranted.

“You want me and Mel to help you two seem like a couple? That right?” Price’s voice carried an unmistakable note of amusement, his words tinged with disbelief.

Simon shifted his weight, rolling his shoulders back, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "Yes, that’s the gist of it."

Price’s laughter broke free, a warm, hearty sound that echoed off the kitchen tiles. “Bloody hell, Simon. You’ve seen action all over the world, but this—this is what’s got you nervous?” He clapped a hand on Simon’s shoulder, his grin wide enough to light the room. “You’re in for a treat, mate. Melanie’s going to love this.”

From your seat, you caught Price’s amused glance, and you couldn’t help the way your face heated. This was going to be a long evening.

Price, still chuckling, crossed the room to the wide bay window, pushing it open with ease. The crisp evening air drifted in, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass and the faint hum of distant crickets. He leaned out slightly, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Mel! Come on inside, love. You’ve got to hear this one,” he called, his voice carrying easily over the quiet of their backyard.

From where you sat, you caught a glimpse of Melanie in the garden. She was tending to a neat row of vibrant flowers, her hands gloved and a straw hat perched on her head. At the sound of Price’s voice, she straightened up, brushing dirt off her knees with a curious look on her face.

“Be right there!” she replied, her voice warm and lilting. She removed her gloves, tucking them into her apron pocket as she began making her way toward the house.

Price turned back to Simon, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “You better hope Mel doesn’t laugh you out of the house, mate.”

Simon groaned softly, rubbing his temples. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Price.”

Moments later, Melanie stepped into the living room, a radiant smile lighting up her face. She was the epitome of grace, her presence immediately softening the room’s atmosphere. Her gaze shifted between you, Simon, and her husband, her curiosity evident.

“What’s all this about, then?” she asked, removing her hat and setting it on a nearby chair. “You’ve got that mischievous look again, John.”

Price grinned, gesturing toward you and Simon. “These two need a favor, Mel. A big one.”

Melanie’s brows lifted as she looked between the two of you. “Oh? Do tell.”

Simon, looking equal parts determined and mortified, cleared his throat. “We... need help convincing a group of nosy parents that we’re married. Long story.”

Melanie’s smile widened as her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh, this sounds rich. Go on, I’m listening.”

You shifted in your seat, feeling the warmth of Melanie’s gaze settle on you. Her smile was kind but tinged with unmistakable amusement, and it was clear she was holding back a laugh as she took in your flustered state.

“Well,” you began hesitantly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “It’s a bit of a mess, really. One of the moms at the daycare cornered me, started asking questions about Simon, and… I might’ve let it slip that we’re married. Which we’re not. Obviously.” Your words tumbled out in a rush, and you glanced at Simon for backup. He was rubbing the back of his neck, caught between exasperation and amusement.

Melanie let out a soft laugh and gracefully sat down beside you on the couch. “Ah, I see. And now you need to sell the story before it falls apart. Oh, love, I’ve been in a similar pickle—not quite like this, but close enough.”

“See?” Price chimed in from his armchair, leaning back with an amused grin. “Told you Mel would get a kick out of this.”

Simon shot him a flat look. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for, mate.”

Melanie waved a dismissive hand at Price before patting your knee in a reassuring gesture. “Don’t mind him. Now, let’s think this through. If you’re going to convince anyone, you need to act the part. People pick up on the smallest details—how you talk to each other, how comfortable you seem together. If you’re too stiff, they’ll see right through it.”

Simon leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he nodded. “Alright, so what do we need to do? We’ve got about a week before the fundraiser, so I’m open to ideas.”

Melanie’s eyes lit up with a mix of mischief and determination. “Perfect. We’ll start with body language—how you interact without saying a word. And then we’ll move on to the conversational stuff. You’ll need to know each other’s habits, quirks, and all those little details married couples just know.”

Price clapped his hands together with mock enthusiasm, a cheeky grin plastered across his face. “Right, then. Let the awkward training sessions begin. This’ll be one for the books.”

You groaned inwardly, glancing between Simon and Melanie. This bizarre charade was only just beginning, and while you couldn’t imagine where it would lead, one thing was clear—you were in for a wild ride.

Happy new years friends! The holidays were a riot and I spent most of it spending time with family instead of writing as I felt kind of burnt out from writing in November, sorry about that but I hope this makes up for it.

-

@midnight-blue-moon-princess @pipedream411 @frogofrg @loonagabs @ghostlythots @vixenshiftsvrs @devoetee @shorty-tolentino @aethelwyneleigh27 @ayesha-eroticax3 @emilia527 @danielle143 @maniacalbooper @awildewit @gifted-aurora @teenagellamaangel @julesjunimos @tacticalgirlboss @midnights-song @suzuki-18 @t3a-bag @latencygirl @krispymagazinepizza-blog @harperdoodle @odettecigno @sockertop @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovelystarfish @my-little-evil-blog @imastorytelleritsondvd @l1lpip @cringeycookies @identity2212 @balletbiscuit @mulletmcghee @maciswack @littleracco0n @oliver-1270 @weemansoap @cryingpages @connorsui @beebeechaos @gluttonybiscuits @strawberrygato @sozainturpal @echo9821 @blinca @illusionistlover @blubearxy @superficialfeelings @new-author3 @xanvasy @oniiloma @bankaixx @evie-199 @notsochillnerd @thatpersonnamedrook @hon3y-cloud @jaguarthecat @reinekoya @apixasflora @a-lovers-card @gloriousloveduck @aetherthetrashpanda @princess-vibes25 @vickykazuya @enfppuff @liliannamae @m0chac0ffee @flamehero-phoenix @bean-cream @realizemandi97 @almostdecadentstarfish @lunamoonbby

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie pressed his face to the bars of the crib, watching his daughter sleep. Eddie sighed as he watched Elizabeth's chest rise and fall, her little hands curled into tiny fists. He started in amazement at her chubby little cheeks. . .the way her mouth moved. . .she was so beautiful. . .the moles that peppered her skin like she was made of stars.

"Eddie, babe, you have to get some sleep. . .we both do," Steve’s voice came from behind him.

"Sshh!" Eddie hissed.

"She's out like a light," Steve said. "We both know by now that it takes a lot to wake her up."

Steve knelt beside Eddie, placing an arm on his lower back.

"I don't want to miss a single moment," Eddie sighed.

"You have to Eddie, if you want to be a good parent," Steve said. "You have to take care of yourself, too."

Eddie sighed and pressed his face further into the bars.

"What the fuck, Steve? Who allowed us to do this? I'm going to break her, I know it. How did this happen?" Eddie asked.

"We got bit by interdimensional bats that gave us the ability," Steve said.

"It was supposed to be you who got pregnant," Eddie said.

"That's your fault. We could have waited to buy more condoms but you were sure that you wouldn't get pregnant after one time," Steve said, smirking.

"You could have talked me out if it," Eddie pointed out.

"You were being irresistible, couldn't be helped," Steve laughed quietly.

"I don't regret anything," Eddie said, flashing his dimples, and just like that, it was gone. "I miss her, Steve. She lived inside of me. . .safe and protected from the world. . .now anything could happen to her. I feel like I'm wearing my heart outside of my body. . .and it's overwhelming. . .you know?"

"Believe me, I know," Steve said. "I look at her and still can't believe she's part of us."

"There's no way," Eddie sobbed. "That something so beautiful could come from me."

"Believe it, Eddie, because you're beautiful, too," Steve said.

"I feel so crazy, Steve," Eddie said.

"Well, you just had a baby. You're allowed to be crazy," Steve said and paused. "Within reason."

"I'm going to stay here and watch over her forever," Eddie vowed.

Steve scoffed before wrapping his arms around him and picking him up.

"No, you're not," he said.

Steve sat down in the rocking chair and cradled Eddie in his arms. He began to rub and Eddie's back.

"This is for babies," Eddie muttered.

"If it works, it works," Steve said. "Now, let me take care of you, and you go to sleep. Okay. . .do it for both of us."

Eddie's eyes fluttered close as Steve continued rocking him.

"This is nice," he mumbled.

Steve smiled and pressed his cheek against Eddie's head as he felt Eddie start to relax. He sighed happily as Eddie drifted off to sleep completely, his mouth moving slightly like Elizabeth's. Steve was just about to fall asleep himself when Elizabeth sneezed. Eddie's eyes popped open.

"Was that a fucking sneeze?" Eddie said rather darkly. "What kind of sick fucking germ attacks a child while they're sleeping?"

"Normal ones. . .go to sleep," Steve said, trying to fight his amusement.

Eddie eventually fell asleep, nestled further against Steve. He picked Eddie up and started carrying him out of the room, glancing fondly at Elizabeth one last time. Steve brought him back to their room, laying him carefully on the bed. Steve crawled back into bed, and Eddie rolled over immediately, flopping onto his chest. Eddie sighed, his hand over Steve’s heart.

"I think I love her more than you," Eddie muttered sleepily.

"I definitely love her more than you," Steve chuckled.

"I got knocked up by the right man," Eddie said, his fingers tapping out a Metallica song against Steve’s skin.

"Oh, were there any other men lining up to get you pregnant?" He asked.

"Hmm, Argyle," Eddie cackled. "The offer is still on the table. Mmm, he does have better hair than you."

"Asshole," Steve said and tickled Eddie's side, causing him to giggle.

"We're supposed to be sleeping," Eddie scolded.

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie, holding him tightly and thanking the stars for the life they had together. . .that something good was able to come from all the horrors they endured.

[blxxmingrose]

hans felt a tug on his heartstrings as he watched june take a bite off the offered food, this simple gesture awakening something strong in hans. as he held the food to june’s lips, he was very aware of invading june’s personal space, and that he was silently given permission to. and as he watched june chew the food carefully, savoring the bite, it made him feel even more protective of what they had between them, of this delicate bud that could grow into a beautiful flower if they cared for it well. and hans fully intended to. 

“i’m glad you like it,” he whispered softly, his eyes still on june even as june’s attention moved to sunny. there’s another simple but intimate gesture too, june helping sunny wipe her hands off the mess she had made. the way he talked to sunny made hans’ chest tighten with that yearning to make this permanent. he couldn’t help the fond smile on his lips as he saw how gently june talked to sunny, as if she was not just a child in his class. she was important to him too. “looks like we’re all enjoying this place, huh?” he teased, using another napkin to wipe the cheese off sunny’s cheek. “some more than others, apparently.” 

hans was so caught up in the moment, enjoying this little bubble of space that only extended to the three of them, that he was fully unaware of anything else that happened outside it. the restaurant had gotten busier, the food drawing in crowds as it had drawn them in. and on the opposite side of the room, unbeknownst to hans at the time, was a family he should have recognized from his visits to sunny’s school. 

there was sunny’s classmate along with their parents, but they were having a completely different experience in the restaurant compared to hans. the child was making as much a mess as sunny, but unlike the grin on hans’ face as he covered another skewer with cheese, the parent’s look was more of curiosity as their eyes darted to the unlikely party they were seeing outside school hours.

“i think by the time we’re done here, half of the cheese would be coming home with us,” hans noted with a hearty laugh as sunny managed to cover her hands with cheese once more after finishing another skewer. hans had finished quite a few himself, and he wanted to slow down, not wanting to end the dinner just yet. “this was a really nice experience, though. we could try something like this maybe once a week?” he asked with a warmth that was now only reserved for june. 

june couldn’t hide his surprise as hans extended the skewer toward him, the gentle invitation catching him completely off guard. his eyes darted to hans’ hand, patient, then to his face, where that soft, hopeful smile lingered.

there was something intimate about the gesture, something that made june’s chest tighten in the best possible way. he hesitated for only a moment, his heart stuttering in his chest, before leaning forward slightly and letting hans guide the bite to his lips. the warmth of the cheese, the tenderness of the meat — it was delicious, sure, but it was the way hans had looked at him, so quietly intent, that made the moment truly unforgettable.

june swallowed, the taste still lingering as he leaned back, his hand brushing against his mouth reflexively, though no mess had been made. “that’s… really good,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual. he looked at hans, trying to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling.

he glanced at sunny, her laughter filling the air as she proudly showed off her cheese-covered hands, clearly undeterred by the mess. the sound made him smile, the corners of his lips curling in a way that felt entirely unforced. “i’m starting to think she’s having more fun making the mess than eating,” he said lightly, his gaze flickering back to hans.

june reached for a napkin, gently offering it to sunny, who giggled but let him wipe her hands. “you’ve got to pace yourself, little one,” he teased, his tone warm. “we still have a whole meal ahead of us.”

[mim16s]

Survival in Game

Cho Hyun-ju x Autistic!Fem!Reader

•I'm not autistic, but I have a brother and a cousin who are, so I used my experience living with them to write this character. English is not my first language, but I tried my best to write this without spelling errors. This is my first story on this app, so I hope it is good.

This wasn’t what you wanted for your life. Honestly, you didn’t even understand how you had gotten to this point. All you wanted was to take care of your mother, to repay all the effort she had put into you. And you knew how hard it had been for her.

She got pregnant young and raised you on her own, with no support system. Your father? Well, you never knew him. He disappeared as soon as he found out about the pregnancy. Your grandparents, embarrassed that she had gotten pregnant so young and without even getting married, abandoned her too. That’s how your mother faced the world alone, with you in her arms.

And things got even harder. You knew that being autistic made everything more challenging for her. As a child, you didn’t speak, and your first words came only after many therapy sessions, which were expensive. But she never gave up. You remembered seeing her come home, exhausted after a long day of work, but always with a smile.

— Mom is fine. You’re everything I need to have strength, — she would say, trying to hide her exhaustion.

But you knew the truth. You knew how much she fought, how she struggled to meet all your needs, to make sure you never lacked anything. Everything fell apart when she got sick. You were 19. The illness took all her strength, and she could no longer work. That’s when the weight of the world fell on you. You had to find a job, but no matter how hard you tried, no one wanted to give you a chance. When they saw you weren’t neurotypical, they wouldn’t give you a chance.

Life became a daily struggle. You survived doing small jobs here and there, while some kind neighbors helped with food baskets. But the money was never enough, and the debts started piling up. Your mother’s treatments were expensive, and with each unpaid bill, the despair grew.Then he appeared. The man in the suit.He appeared out of nowhere, as if fate had sent him. With a piercing look, holding a briefcase in his hand. He stopped in front of you while you were resting in one of the subway chairs, with a smile that made you just as uncomfortable as it did curious.

— Looks like you need an opportunity, don’t you?—You hesitated, unsure of what to respond. He seemed to know exactly who you were and what you were going through.

— I want to propose something to you.

And that’s when you got a card with geometric symbols and a phone number. You stared at it, your heart racing without fully understanding it.

---

And now, here you were: in a strange hall, surrounded by people you didn’t know, in a place you had never seen before, wearing clothes you didn’t even remember putting on, and the fabric itched. You weren’t the only one confused. Perplexed looks crossed the room, and nervous whispers filled the air.

Then they appeared: masked soldiers, wearing uniforms that seemed more threatening than functional. You couldn’t help but shrink back, a heavy feeling that something was terribly wrong.They began to speak, explaining what was happening.

— Excuse me! — A voice echoed. Your eyes followed the sound until they landed on a beautiful woman, who seemed just as indignant as she was confident. — They said it would just be some games, but you kidnapped us. And you still want me to believe this?

— We apologize, — one of the masked soldiers replied, the voice distorted by some sort of modifier. — It was a necessary measure to ensure the confidentiality of the games we are organizing.

Questions started popping up from all sides, but the answers provided no comfort, only more tension. You wanted to understand better, but it was hard to follow. The questions, the sounds around you, the smell of sweat and fear in the hall, everything was pulling you in different directions. You began to rock back and forth slightly, trying to focus. It was something that always helped. But the discomfort persisted.

---

You were led to a large open field, surrounded by high fences and cameras that seemed to record every movement. It was announced that the first game would begin soon. When a desperate man screamed that, if anyone was eliminated, they would die, a chill ran down your spine. It couldn’t be true... right? But when the game began, the illusion of safety shattered. The sharp sound of a gunshot cut through the air. Your eyes widened, shock paralyzing you. That sound — loud, deafening to your sensitive hearing — seemed to hammer in your head. You instinctively wanted to cover your ears to block out that deafening noise, but you felt someone hold your hands firmly, preventing any sudden movements.

— Don’t move, it’s dangerous. — The voice came from behind. It was the beautiful woman from before. There was something in the firmness of her tone that managed to cut through your panic, bringing some calm.

— My ears hurt, — you murmured, your voice trembling.

— I know. But you have to hold on. Just a little longer.

Chaos spread around you. People were screaming, some running in desperation, while others were falling to the sound of new gunshots. You felt terror take hold, a heavy knot in your throat. Your legs felt like stone.

— If you don't cross the line in time, they'll still kill you! Look at the doll's eyes! They're cameras that scan for motion! But it's not able to detect you if you're behind something! — screamed one of the players, his voice desperate. — So if you short, line up behind someone who's taller than you!

Your body wouldn’t respond. You were frozen, the noise and the fear trapping you in place.The beautiful woman stopped in front of you, blocking your view of the rest of the field.

— Keep going. — Her voice was urgent, yet gentle. — You need to keep going. Don’t worry, I’ll stay in front of you. Just follow me, okay?

You couldn’t verbalize, but when the music started again, you followed her. Each step behind her felt like an eternity, but she kept her promise, protecting you as you moved forward.

After the game ended, everyone was taken back to the room. The atmosphere was heavy, filled with fear and despair. Lost looks, uncertain steps — everyone seemed terrified, and you were no different.Sitting on one of the beds, you rocked back and forth, an automatic motion, a desperate attempt to find comfort. But it didn’t help. Your breathing was uneven, the sounds around you seemed amplified, and all you wanted was to leave. Your mind raced in circles, always returning to the same question: Why me? You just wanted to help your mother. Everything you did was for her, and now you were trapped here, too scared to do anything.Then the voice of the masked soldiers echoed through the room, imposing order, the man from before who said he had already participated in this game proposed the vote.At first, the idea of voting seemed like an escape. A chance to get out of that terrible situation.

But then they revealed the amount of money accumulated by the people who had died. The sum gleamed in a giant safe suspended in the room. The shine of the money seemed to hypnotize some. Murmurs started to arise. Many were considering staying. You felt a tightness in your chest.

When the vote began, the sound of buttons being pressed was like a constant drum in your ears. You watched the people go to the ballot box, one by one, pressing their votes. Some hesitated, others went with determination.When it was your turn, your hands trembled as you walked up to the ballot box. The panel blinked in front of you: a circle to stay and an “X” to leave. You could barely see properly, your vision blurred by the tears at the corners of your eyes.Your finger pressed the “X.” You wanted to leave, go home. You needed your mother as much as she needed you. But when the final vote was recorded and the numbers were revealed, your heart sank.The majority had chosen to stay.Panic took over you again. Your fingers began to tremble uncontrollably, and you went back to your bed, feeling your whole body tighten. Your mind was in chaos. The rocking movement returned, but this time even more intense, as if your body was trying to compensate for the avalanche of emotions.You felt helpless. You wanted to scream, to cry, but all you could do was try to hold onto the little control you still had.

The terror was greater than anything you had ever felt before. And, even worse, it was just the beginning

Part 2:

[darksturnz]

DRAWINGS AND APOLOGIES

CONTENTS:・soft angst/fluff-heavy plot (??) ・star!reader ・mild language ・some fruity activity・artist!chris ・bambi!madison + more WC: 2.1K (not proof read)

play this song. on repeat !

The faint smell of nail polish filled Madison’s living room, the kind of chemical sweetness that mixed oddly well with the lavender candle flickering on the coffee table. Star sat cross-legged on the floor, her hoodie sleeves pushed up as she tried to carefully paint Madison’s nails a deep plum color. Comet, however, had other plans. The fluffy cat had sprawled across Madison’s lap, purring loud enough to rival the ambient playlist humming in the background.

“Hold still,” Star muttered, furrowing her brows as she hovered the brush over Madison’s thumb.

“I would if your son wasn’t crushing me,” Madison teased, scratching Comet’s chin.

Star rolled her eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t love the chunks”

Madison grinned, holding up her hand for inspection. “seriously, not to body shame but he’s huge now! He wasn’t this big in that picture you posted.”

Star snorted. “Yeah, he’s been eating like a starved Victorian child who just discovered McDonald’s for the first time.” She capped the polish and leaned back against the couch. “And he’s been rotting in bed with me all day. We’re both a little pathetic.”

The comment came out casually, but Madison’s eyes flicked up, watching Star closely. “Rotting, huh?” she asked, keeping her voice light. “Very Girl, Interrupted of you.”

Star snorted and shrugged, fiddling with the bottle of nail polish. “I’m very Winona Ryder, we know this already. Life’s just been… a lot, I guess.”

Madison shifted slightly, gently moving Comet off her lap and onto the couch beside her. “What’s been a lot?” she asked, dipping her fingers into the nail polish remover as if she wasn’t paying too much attention.

Star hesitated, the words stuck in her throat. But Madison’s quiet presence, her calm patience, made it easier to start. “My dad’s been…” She trailed off, her voice tightening. “He’s just been worse lately. Everything’s my fault, y’know? The house isn’t clean enough. I’m not enough. He just—” Her breath hitched, and she shook her head.

Madison didn’t interrupt, just nodded slightly, her hands folded in her lap.

“And Chris,” Star added, her voice quieter now. “He was such an asshole. Like, I get it—he’s stressed. He has so much going on. But it felt like everything he said was aimed right where it’d hurt the most, like he was just… unloading all his shit on me.”

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her hoodie, and her words spilled out faster now. “And the worst part is, I’m not even mad at him. I just—” She swallowed hard, her eyes shining. “I care about him so much, it makes me feel stupid. It’s like I can’t stop caring even when I know I should.”

Madison stayed quiet, her expression softening as she leaned closer.

“And I miss my mom.” Star’s voice cracked, and the first tear fell before she could stop it. “I miss her so much. I just… I wish things were different. I wish she was here.”

The tears came faster now, slipping silently down her cheeks. Comet, sensing her distress, immediately leapt down from the couch and climbed onto Star’s chest. He curled up there, his warm, heavy weight grounding her as he began purring softly.

Madison slid down to the floor beside Star, leaning against her. “Do you remember that time your mom took us to the pool?” she said, her voice soft and steady.

Star blinked, looking over at her.

“She jumped in fully clothed because you were too scared to go in,” Madison continued with a small smile. “And then she made a huge splash on purpose so we’d all get soaked. I thought the lifeguard was gonna kill her.”

A shaky laugh escaped Star’s lips. “I remember. She had to drive us home in her wet jeans.”

“And then there was the time she tried to help us bake cookies,” Madison added, her own laughter bubbling up. “But we didn’t read the directions, so we added like three tablespoons of salt instead of sugar. She ate one anyway and said it was the best cookie she’d ever had.”

Star laughed again, the sound soft and bittersweet. “She was such a liar.”

“She really was,” Madison agreed, nudging Star’s shoulder gently.

The laughter faded, but Star felt a little lighter. She wiped her face with her sleeve, looking over at Madison with a sad smile. “I think I might miss him,” she mumbled.

Madison shook her head, smiling knowingly. “Really? You’ve only been a little bit obvious with the whole Bella Swan vibe you’ve got going on.”

Star’s eyes widened, and then she burst into laughter, hitting Madison’s arm lightly. “Okay!”

“I’m just saying,” Madison teased.

“Well, now I need to binge Twilight,” Star said, still laughing.

Madison grinned. “Say no more.”

They quickly set up for a movie night, grabbing blankets, snacks, and, of course, Comet. Star curled up on the couch, a sense of ease washing over her for the first time in weeks.

Chris sat at the dinner table, staring down at his sketchpad. The drawing was finished, the lines crisp and deliberate, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop fidgeting with it. His pencil tapped against the table in a steady rhythm.

“Can you stop?” Lila mumbled from the couch, her eyes glued to the TV. “You’re bein’ annoying.”

Chris sighed softly, glancing over at her. “What’re y’watchin’, bug?”

“Snoopy in Space,” she said, barely looking at him.

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t Snoopy from, like, when Mom was a kid?”

Lila giggled. “Star said you’d be a hater about it. That’s why we only watch it together.”

Chris’s stomach dropped at the mention of Star. He hummed in response, his fingers tightening around the pencil.

“I miss Star,” Lila said quietly.

Chris looked over at her, struggling to find the words. “I know, bug,” he said finally, his voice soft. “S’bedtime though, c’mon.”

Lila pouted but didn’t argue when she caught the exhaustion in his eyes. She grabbed her bunny and walked over to him, wrapping her small arms around his neck. “Goodnight, Chris.” She kissed his cheek and padded off toward her room.

Chris blinked, stunned for a moment, before following her. He caught her just as she climbed into bed. “What was that about?” he asked.

“What?”

“You just tried to put yourself to bed. Since when’re y’too good for my tucking-in?”

Lila shrugged. “I didn’t wanna bother you.”

Chris’s chest ached, but he forced a smile. “Kid, you could never bother me. I’m tuckin’ you in ‘til you’re 50, alright?”

Lila rolled her eyes with a giggle as Chris flopped onto her bed, tickling her sides until she squealed.

When the giggles subsided, Chris looked at her seriously. “You know how much I love you?”

She nodded.

“You know how much Ma loves you?”

Another nod.

“Is Star mad at us ‘cause Momma’s not here?”

Chris’s heart clenched. He shook his head. “No, bug. She’s not mad at you or Momma. I was just an idiot and said some mean things I didn’t mean.”

Lila scowled. “What? Why! Go say sorry!”

Chris shrugged softly. “S’ not that simple.”

“Yes, it is!” Lila said, her small voice fierce. “You just say what you say to me—“I’m sorry let’s get feel better ice cream”— duh.”

Chris shook his head. “It unfortunately doesn’t work like that, kiddo.”

Lila yawned, snuggling deeper into her blanket. “You’re just bein’ a scaredy-cat.”

Chris kissed her forehead, tucking her in tightly. “ yeah, Goodnight, bug.”

Lila was sound asleep in her room, her bunny clutched tightly to her chest, the soft rise and fall of her breathing the only reminder that someone else was there. Chris sat at the dining table, staring down at the sketchpad in front of him.

The drawing was delicate but deliberate—a blend of shadow and light. The background was dark, with faint, swirling shapes blending into the shadows, but the stars stood out, scattered across the page in sharp, bright white. It wasn’t anything obvious, but it felt like it captured something he couldn’t put into words: the feeling of being adrift, of wanting to reach for something but not being sure if it was still there.

He’d started it thinking about Lila, about Evelyn, about how everything in his life felt like it was slipping out of his control. But somewhere in the hours he’d worked on it, his thoughts had drifted to Star. To the tears in her eyes, the way her voice had broken as she tried to reach him. To the silence that had stretched between them in the days since, heavier than he wanted to admit.

Chris folded the corner of the paper, unfolding it again, his jaw tight. He couldn’t shake the memory of her face—hurt, but not angry. Just sad. Like she was already bracing for him to walk away.

Finally, he stood up, grabbing his jacket and the drawing. He glanced into Lila’s room one more time, making sure she was still fast asleep, before slipping out of the trailer as quietly as he could.

Chris reached her trailer faster than he thought he would. It was cold, his breath visible in the night air, but he barely noticed. He stood at the door for a moment, staring at the chipped paint and the flickering porch light. His hand hovered over the door before he knocked, sharp and quick.

The sound echoed in the stillness, and for a second, he thought she might not be home. Then the door opened abruptly, but it wasn’t Star standing there. It was Danny, his expression hard and irritated.

“She ain’t here,” Danny said flatly, his words clipped. Before Chris could get a word in, the door slammed shut.

Chris stood there, frozen, his mind racing. He thought about leaving, about heading back to his own trailer and letting the silence win again. But instead, he pulled the drawing from under his jacket and reached into his pocket for a pen. The stars stared back at him as he scribbled on the back of the paper, the letters quick and messy but clear: Can we talk?

He folded the drawing carefully and walked to the side of the trailer where he knew her room was. The window was cracked open slightly, the tapestry hung over it swaying gently in the breeze. He slid the paper through the gap, hoping it would land somewhere visible, before stepping back. He stood there for a moment longer, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, then turned and walked back toward his trailer.

Breaking Dawn: Part 1 played on the TV, the overly dramatic music swelling as Bella stared broodingly out the window. Madison couldn’t help but snort. “Okay, but who actually stares out the window like that?” she said, shaking her head.

Star, sprawled out on the couch with Comet curled up at her feet, grinned. “It’s iconic, Madison. Don’t question the art.”

Madison rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. She wasn’t really paying attention to the movie—not when Star looked so relaxed, her face lit up with laughter for the first time in weeks. Every time Star laughed, something warm bloomed in Madison’s chest, her heart beating just a little faster than usual.

She tried to focus on the TV, but her gaze kept drifting back to Star. The way her hair fell over her shoulder, the way her lips curved when she smiled, the way she absentmindedly scratched behind Comet’s ears. It wasn’t the first time Madison had noticed these things, but it was the first time she let herself admit what they meant.

Star shifted, leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn, and then settled back down, her head resting in Madison’s lap. Madison froze for a second, her breath catching, before she gently rested a hand on Star’s hair, letting her fingers trace soft patterns. Her heartbeat quickened, but she kept her movements steady, careful not to let Star notice.

The room felt warmer now, the flickering light from the TV casting soft shadows across Star’s face. Madison barely heard the dialogue on the screen, too focused on the way Star’s breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely.

For now, she didn’t say anything. She just brushed a strand of hair out of Star’s face and let her fingers linger there a moment too long, hoping Star couldn’t feel how her hands trembled ever so slightly. She studied the curve of her face, the way the faintest smile lingered on her lips even in the quiet. Madison felt a soft ache in her chest—not painful, but full, as if her heart had grown just a little too big for her ribs. The moment felt fragile, suspended between comfort and something else entirely, but Madison didn’t dare break it.

AUTHORS NOTE: TWILIGHT MENTION😸😸

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[jsooly]

if you were the sullys' human kid / jake sully & neytiri x daughter!reader

synopsis, a baby when the na'vi forced the sky people off their planet, jake bonds with you and tries to convince neytiri to raise you as their own. she doesn't agree, unless…

+ takes place during avatar 2009

"hey—who's kid is this?!"

your mother was pregnant with you during her term as an RDA corporal. she commanded her troops from the base and after giving birth to you, she was charged with field work again.

she died in battle before you were even a year old.

orphaned, they powers that were let you stay in her room and put you in the care of the scientists and doctors.

months passed. you learned to walk quickly, learned to yell for attention when you needed something... the RDA base was in no way suited for a child, and no one cared to accommodate you. not when they had na'vi to terrorize and a planet to pillage!

worming your way out of supervision yet again, you found yourself in the fields where the avatars' playing court and farm plants the height of two humans.

you scurried out of the cover the tall stalks provided as an avatar came flying up the path, its knee connecting with your side and sending you flying.

"shit—!"

"jake, i told you you weren't supposed to be running!"

your body must've tumbled 10ft. down the way before you came to a stop. and once you got over the shock, your cries were definitely heard all the way in the command center.

"that's a child!" jake held his head in his hands, relief flooding through him that you were responsive after that collision.

"woah, really?" norm said in a dumb voice before pushing past him and crouching beside you.

"how old is she?! how is she just allowed to walk around on her own?"

"she's turning two soon and her mom died recently in a spat with the na'vi. frankly we don't have the time or resources right now to keep an eye on her at all times." norm cradled you as he surveyed the damage. "thank goodness you just missed her and didn't bulldoze her like an animal."

it ended up fine. you were a tough kid.

poor jake didn't leave your side as you were taken to the med bay and treated, avatar and all.

he fretted as the nurses wrapped your arm with bandages.

"hey, kid." jake offered a sympathetic smile, dusting the dirt off your clothes. his thumb rubbed over your cheeks gently, wiping off the mud that had crusted. "no hard feelings?"

you gave him a wide-eyed look and wrapped your little hand around his thumb as if you were shaking his hand in agreement.

and that was the moment you had him hooked.

sure, his primary objective was bonding with the na'vi, but the times he was on base, his mind would wander back to you. what on earth pandora could a 2 year old be doing to entertain themselves in this weird environment?

curiosity would get the better of him and he'd use the little spare time he had to peek into your room.

seeing you play all alone with your blocks and cars and makeshift dolls made him so unimaginably sad he had to reconsider why he even felt that way.

you caught his figure in the doorway. he tried to retreat, but you'd already made your way towards him.

"jake!" you chirped, stumbling on chubby legs.

"yup." he eased back into view, a warm smile on his face. "that's me." how do you talk to kids? "whatcha up to?"

you mumbled something.

"hm?"

"playing." you shrugged, kicking the invisible dirt on the ground.

"i can see that." he hummed. "is norm gonna let you watch the avatars today?"

you held your chin in thought as you'd seen dr. grace do many times. jake's lips twitched upwards in amusement.

"yeah." you finally answered.

he glanced to the side, unsure what to make of your monotonous replies. "uh... you excited?"

you pointed at him. "you?"

"me?" he asked, pointing to himself also. "am i excited?"

you shook your head. "your... avatar?"

"ohhh." he nodded slowly in understanding. "no, you won't see me much today. i'm gonna be out on a mission."

you frowned and stepped back, shutting the door in his face.

"huh." the rejection stung just as bad as neytiri's.

somewhere down the line, he grew self-conscious, as if his self worth depended on the opinions of a toddler.

the bunch had to listen to him ramble not-so-subtlety and answer all his questions about you, so they caught on pretty quick.

"jake, she's attached to you." grace said with finality. "she's upset she can't spend more time with her favorite person. simple as that."

"favorite person?" jake echoed, distressed. "i almost killed her when we first met!"

grace scoffed. "that's an exaggeration."

"a warranted one." norm mumbled under his breath.

grace whacked him. "you're not helping."

"she slammed the door in my face the other day." jake folding his hands together, resting his forehead against his fists. "you... you think she's mad at me?"

the team groaned.

grace put a hand on jake's shoulder. "don't worry about y/n. you should be focusing on your other girl." she said, referring to neytiri.

the big battle came around, all the tensions and issues snowballing into one decisive moment where the na'vi had the chance to defend what had been taken from them.

jake was over the moon when he finally did what he knew in his heart was right. he embraced neytiri after the battle and he thought he had everything he ever wanted in his hands.

but... a part of his heart was running around the base barefoot.

"ma'jake." neytiri hissed. "no."

"she has nowhere to go." jake pleaded. by the grace of eywa, he was permanently connected with his avatar. his giant hands hooked under your armpits, dangling you in the air in front of his mate.

even neytiri couldn't deny how pitiful you looked. your eyes were sunken from not sleeping enough, frame small from lack of nutrition. what were your caretakers doing?

she shook her thoughts away, retorting, "leave her with her kind! she will be better suited there."

"they're too busy to take care of her properly." jake held you against his chest, stepping towards neytiri. "she needs a proper mother and father."

neytiri growled bluntly in frustration. "i cannot—will not—raise a human child."

jake frowned, unwilling to dismiss her feelings or leave you behind. he loved both his girls too much to deny either one of you. conflicted, he stood there frozen as he tried to think up a compromise.

neytiri studied her husband's face, his brows knit in torment and lips pulled between his teeth. her heart suddenly felt heavy.

“if she matters that much to you… she may stay with us. until those humans can figure out a way to care for her.”

jake lit up like pandora under the night sky. “thank you.” he pulled her in and hugged her right, pressing his lips to her forehead reverently. “thank you.”

within a month, you grew on neytiri. i’m not even joking it was that quick.

she marveled at how light your footsteps were. there were so many you crept in her shadow unnoticed until she heard that sweet giggle of yours.

you were her fast learner. you were a much better student that your father. being so young, you were able to catch onto the language quickly.

humans were bad. human babies….. eh. this human baby in particular… oh, she could more that spare her prejudice. affection can take its place instead.

it wasn’t bad seeing jake in dad mode either. she didn’t have any doubts, but seeing jake interact so gently with you and entertain you even after a long day made her even more confident in her choice.

a comm came in. neytiri watched jake cross the space as he answered the ringing. as greetings were exchanged between norm, max, and jake, she continued to comb through your hair.

“nga lu… brushing? my nikre?” (you are… brushing? my hair?) you sounded out.

“close.” neytiri said. gently tugging your head back to look at your face, she smiled. “good job.”

you beamed up at her. “irayo nga, sa'nok.” (thank you, mother.)

she paused, peering down at you before tilting your head down and resuming her work on your hair.

in theory, neytiri would’ve corrected you. but that would’ve meant there was something wrong with what you said.

“hey, things have calmed down around here. we can take y/n.” norm said over the phone.

jake glanced at neytiri, who was already watching him.

“they lie. leave this child in their irresponsible hands?” neytiri scoffed and hissed under breath. “she is better suited here with us.”

the knot in jake’s stomach dissipated. “yeah.” he grinned. then, turning back to the phone, “yeah, don’t worry about y/n. she’s good with us.”

neytiri fought back her own smile.

fast forward two years or so, you had a baby brother on the way.

more parts?? idk

© jsooly ‘25.

[hornedmonsters]

"A'thaen" Yautja Oc x Reader - Mate - nsfw - Part 2

Warnings: nsfw, size difference, exophilia, teratophilia, monster x human, alien sex, breeding, angst, sex in the snow

Synopsis: Your life with A'thaen he started, but you've already loved every second of it. But something seemed to be bothering the Yautja.

Word Count: 3,2k

Jezus… this GIF… damn…

I managed to translate this story after all. Thanks Handy!

Two months have passed since A'thaen made you his life partner and mated with you. You haven't regretted a second of your life that he just stormed into your life and fucked you. Literally. You no longer felt so lonely in your little house and the nights weren't so cold either.

Because he fucked you almost every night, either deep inside your bed mattress, on the sofa or anywhere else. He found a place everywhere where he could breed you. And he often destroyed your bed in the process, because it was simply not designed for the brute strength of a gigantic alien with a high breeding instinct.

Of course you had never worried about getting pregnant, because what are the chances of getting pregnant by an alien, a different species that has a different DNA and life line than you?So you let him do it because you enjoyed the way he treated you like you were his queen. He adored you more than anything.You moaned as he pushed his thick cock deeper into you and pressed your face into the mattress. Your skin was covered in a film of sweat and his shadow towered over you. He had totally changed since your first mating. He was reserved at first, but now you were his.

"A'thaen..." you gasped, your legs trembling. You had no strength left and were exhausted. The Yautja growled in apology and shortly after, he came inside you, deep rumbling.

He watched you attentively as you let your body sink into the bathtub and let out a pleasant sigh. You were tired and he felt it, a touch of his conscience made him restless. He sometimes forgot that you were a human and not a Yautja female. You were more sensitive and he had to try to respect that and be more careful with you, he didn't want to break you and hurt you.Gently he laid you in bed and pulled you against his chest. You were exhausted and your eyelids were heavy.

"Don't forget... that my sister is coming tomorrow," you said in a whisper and the Yautja listened up, his eyes looking down at you. You saw the question mark on his face.

"She won't be staying, she's just bringing her child over in the meantime because she has something important to do and she wants me to look after her daughter.

"A'thaen tensed as the thought of hiding came to mind, as no one was to know he was here. The child might betray him and that would only cause trouble, even if it was questionable to believe a child.

"She's half a year old, A'thaen. You don't have to hide," you breathed, straightening up. Gently, you pressed your forehead against his cheek and breathed in his scent. He calmed you down.He clicked, apparently not much in the mood to talk right now. His claws were still firmly on your curves and you felt him pull you closer.A'thaen had often had the thought of what if you were pregnant by him. Yautja children were different from human babies and the birth could mean your death if you were pregnant. That would be the next thing

Since you've been together, you've mated a lot... a whole lot. But you didn't get pregnant. But the Yautja had hope, a lot of hope. His gaze rested on your sleeping form and he felt warmth in his heart.This feeling became even stronger when you held your sister's child in your arms and it triggered all kinds of feelings in him. Excitement, sadness, hope and warmth. It was a chaos of emotions.

The little girl squawked and squeaked. You smiled and looked at Yautja, who was standing a few meters away from you, watching the scenario.

"Here, take her," you suggested and his mandibles twitched. His look was skeptical, but in reality he was afraid of hurting the baby. It was so tiny. But before he could react, you pressed the little creature into his arms and he was mesmerized as the girl's saucer eyes gazed at him watchfully.

The longer you looked at what was happening, the more it hurt you. You couldn't give him what he wanted so much and that was bitter in your stomach.A'thaen sensed the change and his eyes looked at you with concern and questioning.

Sometimes you forget that he was a deadly hunter and a good hunter. He had killed many people, he had told you shortly after your mating. But it didn't affect you, you still wanted him. It was just a part of him.

But you put on a smile, took the child and put her to bed. The little girl was tired and it was really late. Somewhat reluctantly, the Yautja gave up the baby, there was still something strange in his gaze.

During the night, you lay with your back turned to him and stared into space. At some point, you noticed how he slowly and quietly got up and left the room. After that, he never showed his face again.

On the second day, your sister picked up her daughter again, but there was no sign of A'thaen and you started to worry. Then you remembered that he still had his spaceship. You remembered where it was, but it had disappeared. The place was empty and his spaceship wasn't exactly small.You panicked. Had he just left you? Had you done something wrong to him? You became restless and at night you couldn't sleep a wink.

Tears gathered in your eyes as you looked out of the window. It was storming heavily, but you didn't see an oversized spaceship or an oversized alien man. You walked through the rain. You needed a walk to clear your head. You were a mixture of emotions and you found it hard to breathe. Had you really managed to scare off an alien?

Trembling, you leaned against a gigantic tree and exhaled deeply. Slowly you slid down and tears ran down your cheeks as you felt the exhaustion of the last few days. When you went back home, you went to bed. You couldn't sleep until you were simply too exhausted and your body gave way. You quickly drifted off into the darkness of sleep.

A few more weeks passed until one day you suddenly heard a loud noise outside. You jumped up from the sofa and looked towards the door. Your heart pounded with false hope and at the same time you were afraid that it was something completely different. You swallowed and got up.It was cold outside, winter was approaching and your hut was losing its warmth too. You carefully pushed the doorbell down and opened the door a crack. You immediately felt the cold and shivered. Wistfully, you grabbed your jacket and a flashlight.

Maybe it was a family of raccoons. They were probably looking for food before the harsh winter came. You crept out of the door and followed the sounds. The sky was cloudy and somehow you had a queasy feeling walking through the darkness to the back of the house. What if it was a bear? But what if it was A'thaen? What if he was injured.

Suddenly you saw something in the darkness. It was a shadow in the shadow of darkness. Gigantic. Your eyes widened and the next moment a bright light came on. You quickly closed your eyes and tried to get used to the bright light.

You put your hand in front of your eyes and slowly opened your eyelids. Slowly, the first snowflakes fell from the sky and you realized that it was a spaceship. A'thaen's.

Your mouth went dry and tears gathered in your eyes as you took heavy steps away, but couldn't see anyone.

"A'thaen...," your voice was a whisper and you suddenly felt someone gently take your hand and pull it down. A soft growl was heard, then the Yautja appeared in front of you and you were completely overwhelmed with the feelings you had. With your mouth open and your body trembling, you looked at him. More and more snowflakes fell gently on your skin and got caught in your hair.

You just stared at each other. Your hand still in his and it was as if time stood still for a moment. Your heart was beating so hard against your chest that it hurt. You felt sick and had an inner conflict. A'thaen sensed this and hesitated before making a wrong move. He knew he was long gone and he also knew that he had just left you standing there.

It wasn't his intention, it just came over him. He almost flinched when he suddenly felt your arms around his hips.

He then gently put his strong arms around your small, trembling figure. But the next moment you hit him on the chest. Over and over again. You sobbed as you did so. The Yautja simply stood still and took it. Maybe it didn't hurt him physically, but he could feel so clearly how he had hurt you.

"You left me alone..." you shivered and a clicking sound came from his mouth.

"I'm sorry", he whispers into Yautja and gently pushed you away from him so you could look into his eyes. His gaze was sincere and open. You licked your dry lips and gently he brushed your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. Oh if you only knew why he left. He hoped so much that you would like his gift.

"Was... On my... Planet," he started to explain and your brows drew together in confusion. What was he doing there? He reached for the bag he had strapped to his thigh and pulled out a glass jar filled with green liquid. Your eyes widened. Was that his blood? Your head was in chaos.

"I went to see one of our healers. I wanted to know more about pregnancy and the mating between humans and Yautja. You know I love you so much, more than anything else in this universe. I would kill anything and everything for you, just to protect you. But when I saw you with that child..., I told you I would love you too, even if we couldn't have children and I still do. But I saw the look in your eyes and I know you want children. I wanted to know if there wasn't a way and there is," his voice was excited and you didn't know him like that. He held the green liquid in front of your face. "This is our possibility. This is my blood and it would be possible for you to inject yourself with it. Your body would remain human, but there would be a few Yautja extras. Also that you react to my seed and become fertile for it." Then he hesitated when he saw your wide eyes and spoke in your language again: "Only... if you... want to." His heart pounded hard against his chest. He was nervous about your answer.

But no matter what you decided, he would continue to love you unconditionally and stay by your side. You were one. And no one would ever be able to change that.

You gently took the glass from his hands and looked at it. Is that why he had left? To surprise you that he had found a way to make your family bigger. All the pain that had accumulated over the weeks disappeared and was replaced by love and amazement.

"Let's try it," you breathed and A'thaen's eyes looked at you wide. It wasn't long before he had carried you, on his hands, back to your hut. You were excited when he gave you the first injection of his blood test and you were curious to see how long it would take for your body to respond.

Finally, your hut filled with warmth again. A'thaen enveloped you with his presence and adored you. You had missed it so much. This Yautja man was balm for your soul. He cuddled with you a lot, stroked you or even squeezed himself into the much too small bathtub with you. So that you could sleep on his chest while he caressed you. You were injected with his blood about twice a week, because you had to get used to it slowly.

It wasn't long before everything outside was white. Winter had officially begun and you were desperate to get out. Of course, your partner had to come with you. A'thaen looked at the snow a little skeptically, but when he saw your shining eyes, he almost gave in with a sigh. He watched you playing in the snow. You were building a snowman and he watched you curiously. He found it fascinating what you could do with this white, cold stuff.

Suddenly it landed right in his face and he clicked indignantly when he heard you laughing. You threw a snowball at him.

Quickly you ran away from him, but it wasn't long before the Yautja reached you and grabbed you. He pushed you against the nearest wide tree and his eyes literally glowed at you.

"Cheeky..., Hooman," his words made you tremble and you could feel something else in his voice. He'd barely touched you since he'd been back and you hadn't had sex. He only wanted to win your trust again after he had unfortunately broken it. But now you were both overcome with desire and passion.

You could hardly react when he tore your clothes off and the icy cold touched your skin. You gasped and sucked in the air sharply. Your nipples hardened and the only thing you were still wearing were your shoes. Thankfully.

A'thaen watched your body react to the cold and stroked your chest tenderly, causing you to inhale deeply. You didn't have time to think as he laid you down in the cold snow and an "Oh God!" escaped your lips. It was freezing cold and you could feel the snow stinging your skin and numbing it.

But at the same time, you could feel yourself getting wet again. A'thaen's tail throbbed under his protection as he saw you lying there helplessly on the ground. Your body and the snow made a magical contrast and it drove him wild to see you like this. The desire to breed you overcame him again and the idea that you were swollen with his child made him growl.

You whispered his name softly and the next moment he was stroking your clitoris, making you moan. He could smell you so intensely.

"Let's see if the injections have any effect," he growled into Yautja and his claws carefully went between your labia to see how wet you were. You were more than ready to take him deep and he clicked open delightedly. He didn't take his time and immediately thrust into you gently. As excited as he was, he still had to make sure you were well prepared despite his size.

You rolled your eyes and threw your head back on your neck as you felt the heavenly stretching you had missed for so long. A moan escaped your mouth and you tried to move your pelvis. You wanted more, he didn't have to prepare you. You wanted him so badly.

"A'thaen, damn it! Move..., please!" you begged him as you continued to move your hips. The Yautja looked at you with amusement and the next moment he was thrusting hard into you. You both moaned and you almost saw stars. It was so much at once. You clung to him, to the warmth he radiated and your gasps fogged his senses as he continued to thrust. He held you tightly in his arms, but still managed to stroke your clit, making you whimper.

It wasn't long before your body tensed and you felt your orgasm building. A'thaen's movements on your clit quickened and your fingers clawed fiercely into his skin, making him hiss. You tightened around him, milking him well as you both came. He pumped a huge load of his warm cum into your womb and you greedily took in every drop. You knew that he would start fucking you again every day. But rightly so, you had some catching up to do and you had a certain goal you wanted to achieve.

The warm water splashed down your body as you leaned against the wall of the shower, moaning and looking down at the Yautja beneath you with your eyelids lowered. Your legs rested on his shoulder with ease and his forked tongue licked your entrance. You held onto his dreadlock-like pigtails and gasped as he licked over your sensitive bud.

Your legs were trembling, the last orgasm was still in your bones and you could feel his cum flowing out of your sweet pussy. A'thaen insisted on licking you clean, of course also because he knew that he could give you pleasure again.His name came out of your mouth like a prayer and the Yautja growled in pleasure when he realized how good you felt in his clutches.

Suddenly you arched your back and pressed your pelvis harder against his face. He understood immediately and continued to lick greedily until you came moaning over his tongue.

He licked your labia and clitoris once more as he helped you up afterwards. You hung exhausted from his neck and your legs were weak. He gently carried you out of the shower and placed a towel over your naked body. You stroked his chest gratefully and leaned your head against him. Your eyes closed in exhaustion and slowly you actually fell asleep.

The Yautja looked at you curiously. As so often, he admired your beauty and gently stroked a wet hair out of your face before taking you to your bed. His eyes fell shut after a short time.When he woke up and turned to you, you weren't there. He immediately sat up and panic spread through him, but when the smell of bacon hit his nose, he calmed down. You've made breakfast.

"Good morning, A'thaen," you smiled gently when you saw him and immediately placed a large plate full of bacon, eggs and pancakes in front of him. Thanking him, he chirped at you and you joined him with your own plate. You ate in silence for a short while, but it was a pleasant silence.

Until you suddenly felt unwell. You felt nauseous and ran to the toilet as fast as you could and threw up. Trembling, you held on to the toilet when you suddenly felt a gentle touch on your shoulder.A'thaen looked at you worriedly. Were you ill? Had he been too rough with you and overworked your body? His mind was working and you smiled gently at him.

"I think I'm pregnant."

tag:

@sweatymusictree

[mmso-notlikethat]

Passing by..

The day was cruelly beautiful, the kind of day that seemed designed to mock Tommy. The sun shone brightly, people’s laughter filled the air, and everywhere he looked, there was happiness—a reminder of how far he felt from it.

It started on his way to grab coffee. He sat at an outdoor table, trying to enjoy a rare day off, when a little boy ran past him, giggling as his mother called after him with a playful scold. The child ran back, hugging his mother’s legs, and the woman bent down, ruffling his hair and whispering something that made the boy laugh even harder.

Tommy couldn’t look away. The warmth between them tugged at something deep inside him—something he rarely let himself acknowledge.

He shook it off and left, heading to the park for some fresh air. He found a bench near the lake, but peace was elusive. A teenager sat nearby, his father helping him fix the chain on his bike. Their conversation was light, easy—filled with an unspoken bond that came from years of trust and care. Tommy caught snippets of their words, small exchanges that made him wonder what it would have been like to have that kind of connection growing up.

By the time he left the park, his chest felt heavier.

Later, at the store, two friends were chatting in the aisle, their laughter echoing as they shared some inside joke. It wasn’t the kind of laughter that alienated, it was the kind that radiated familiarity, the kind that made you want to be part of it. Tommy turned away quickly, pretending to browse the shelves, but their happiness lingered in the back of his mind.

And then, as if the universe wanted to twist the knife, he saw them—two husbands sitting on a bench outside the store, one leaning into the other’s shoulder, their fingers intertwined. The way they looked at each other, so effortlessly in love, made Tommy’s breath catch. He clenched his fists in his pockets, willing himself to look away.

Why couldn't he just let people's happiness exist without feeling like it was a reflection of his own failure? The thought hit him hard, lingering in the air like a whisper he couldn't shake. He shook his head, trying to shove it aside, but it clung to him, heavy and inescapable.

But the final blow came when he decided to stop by his favorite diner. He almost didn’t see them at first, tucked away in a corner booth, but when he did, his heart sank.

Evan.

And he wasn’t alone. Buck was smiling—laughing, actually—and across from him sat another man. Tommy caught the name “Albert” in their conversation, and his chest tightened.

Albert leaned in just a little too closely for Tommy’s comfort, and they looked good together. Happy. Comfortable. Like they belonged.

Tommy froze, his chest tightening as he watched them. He didn’t linger. He couldn’t.

As he walked away, his heart felt like it was being crushed under the weight of everything he’d seen that day. It was as if the universe had spent the entire day mocking him, parading happiness in front of him and reminding him of all the ways he didn’t fit into it

By the time he got home, the silence of his empty house felt deafening. Tommy sank onto his couch, staring blankly at the wall as the events of the day replayed in his mind.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible in the empty room.

If the universe was trying to teach him a lesson, it could at least be honest about what it was.

[goodqueenaly]

Does it seem odd that when Robert Arryn brings up the hope of marrying 'Alayne' the issue of them being officially stepsiblings isn't brought up? Does this indicate that it is considered acceptable in the 7K or could it just mean that it doesn't occur to Sansa as they're merely cousins or she doesn't feel that Robert is really able to understand this? After all, Lyonel Hightower had trouble with the Faith over marrying his stepmother. Though if we're looking for real-world analogues, in Islam stepsiblings is permissible but stepparents aren't.

A couple things.

Number one, when Lysa first mentioned the marriage between Robert and Sansa (when the latter was disguised as “Alayne Stone”), she did so knowing full well who “Alayne” really was:

“I … [sic] I am married, my lady.”

“Yes, but soon a widow. Be glad the Imp preferred his whores. It would not be fitting for my son to take that dwarf’s leavings, but as he never touched you … [sic] How would you like to marry your cousin, the Lord Robert?”

(It goes without saying, of course, that this proposed marriage was never so much as formally announced, much less actively planned, in the brief period between Sansa and Littlefinger’s arrival and Lysa’s murder.)

Number two, whether or not Robert ever learned from his mother that he would marry “Alayne” someday, I wouldn’t take the beliefs of young Robert as any sort of accurate reflection on Westerosi politico-religious statutes or tradition regarding marriage. Having lost essentially the only woman in his life, not to mention the only person who ever showed him anything resembling affection (a full critical review of her parenting notwithstanding), Robert has very clearly taken to Sansa-as-Alayne as a sort of surrogate mother. Being all of eight, not to mention very sheltered and infantalized by his mother, Robert does not have a real, practical idea of what marriage in a Westerosi context means; for Robert, marriage to Sansa-as-Alayne would mean “sleep[ing] in the same bed every night” while Sansa-as-Alayne would “read [him] stories”, “sleep[ing] and kiss[ing] and play[ing] games” with him - that is, essentially what Robert already did with or wanted from Sansa-as-Alayne. Robert isn’t thinking about what the Faith of the Seven or Westerosi law would say about marriage between step-siblings (or, maybe to put it more accurately, a stepson and a bastard daughter); Robert is trying to keep close to Sansa-as-Alayne as the only person giving him some modicum of comfort, stability, and love as his mother had.

Indeed, to that point, Sansa-as-Alayne underlined the impossibility of their union for Robert:

She put a finger to his lips. “I know what you want, but it cannot be. I am no fit wife for you. I am bastard born.”

“I don’t care. I love you best of anyone.”

You are such a little fool. “Your lords bannermen will care. Some call my father upjumped and ambitious. If you were to take me to wife, they would say that he made you do it, that it was no will of yours …[”]

…

Alayne stroked his fingers. “There, my Sweetrobin, be still now.” When the shaking passed, she said, “You must have a proper wife, a trueborn maid of noble birth.”

“No. I want to marry you, Alayne.”

Once your lady mother intended that very thing, but I was trueborn then, and noble. “My lord is kind to say so.” … “Any child of ours would be baseborn. Only a trueborn child of House Arryn can displace Ser Harrold as your heir. My father will find a proper wife for you, some highborn girl much prettier than me. You’ll hunt and hawk together, and she’ll give you her favor to wear in tournaments. Before long, you will have forgotten me entirely.”

Again, because none of this has ever gone beyond the imaginations of Lysa or Robert, it is impossible to say whether the aristocracy of the Vale, much less anywhere else in Westeros, would have reacted to a betrothal ostensibly between Robert and “Alayne Stone”. (And I say “ostensibly” because even in Littlefinger’s current nuptial scheme, Sansa is going to reveal herself as Sansa Stark, rather than “Alayne Stone” at her wedding to Harry Hardyng.) It is interesting to point out that Sansa-as-Alayne’s argument to Robert isn’t that they can’t marry because his stepfather is (officially) her natural father, but that they can’t marry because this marriage would be seen as too ambitious and tyrannical a move by Littlefinger - not necessarily mutually exclusive ideas, but certainly not synonymous either. That’s not to say Sansa is any more versed in the nuances of Westerosi law and/or the doctrines of the Faith to know whether or not this marriage would also be unlawful in the eyes of man or the Seven, of course, but at bare minimum we can say that Sansa-as-Alayne’s instinct with Robert regarding this marriage is to cite the gulf of rank between them, and the perceived influence of Littlefinger, rather than any idea that such unions are objectively forbidden.

(And, when it comes to Westeros legal-religious tradition, I don’t think GRRM has really put much thought into it, as indeed I’m not sure, for example, what the High Septon could or would have done about Samantha Tarly’s allegedly incestuous marriage. Generally speaking, I don’t think GRRM puts very deep thought into the religious and legal details around rules for marriage, much to my curiosity and sometimes chagrin.)

[autisticfaun420]

I opened up to my mom about age regression

(if you are reading this and are new to my blog I am high support needs autistic and I already have childish interests please don’t say I’m infantilizing autism)

So first of all she kind of knew something was up with me, I brought my plushie with me to my disability day program. I showed her my blog, she said she hadn’t logged into my account to check yet so it was a surprise to her. First of all she was very proud and said I was brave for opening about some of my struggles and being so candid about it, I don’t know if it’s bravery or just autism making it so I don’t know what’s appropriate to share haha. Then I showed her my posts about age regression and how I learned about it here and was like, instant hyper fixation for me. I told her about how I never felt negatively infantilized by her and my dad almost never compared to people at school or strangers and I enjoy the connection we have when my parents kind of “baby” me the right way when they take care of my support needs. Like I need to have physical touch to calm me down and being cradled and my diaper changes are met with nick names, hugs and tickles, yeah very embarrassing I’m sure but whatever. I told her about “little space” and how I already enter it when she takes care of me sometimes and she said she always knew something like was going on but never pushed me or into it and made sure I was enjoying myself in those moments. She said if it would make me happy she and my dad would for sure be willing to help me out with little space. I told her that I want to take the power back from people who infantilized me negatively and assume I can’t think for myself by doing this and that surprised her but she said it made sense. I mentioned that I want to keep what independences and adult privileges I do have and I don’t want them to think I want this 24/7 and they said of coarse they will and I trust them. She had a talk with my dad real fast and they agreed to let me spend some of the money I saved up doing internet surveys, like a hundred dollars for an age regression starting pack essentially, my dad asked if this is really what I want and I guess the way I looked at him after and nodded made him believe me. My dad talked to me about how it’s important to keep my regression inside so others don’t get the wrong idea and I said of coarse and I shouldn’t do more then take my plushie with me in public and I agree. However I’m getting an adult sized bottle and pacifier, a mobile for my special needs cubby bed and a few fisher price toys. I am over the moon ecstatic and my mom said she’ll throw in the money for overnight shipping cause I earned it for using coping mechanisms when meltdowns could of gone worse lately.

I told them about pet regression too and they were still supportive of me being interested in it, they said they would feel uncomfortable with treating their disabled child like a pet personally and I can see where they’re coming from on that. They told me that one day I can find someone special to do that stuff with. As you can imagine dating is really hard with my level of needs but I’m not completely discouraged I’ll find somebody but that’s a post for another day. We did have a talk about how much I enjoyed being on an anti elopement harness and how I would pretend play as a puppy when out on walks with her, she said she knew had a feeling that’s what I was doing. Also I had my pacifier till 4 or 5 years and she said me giving it up was one of the hardest things she saw me go through and joked about it like I’m a drug addict about to relapse on it. I still have so many oral stims and use chewerly throughout the day so I think she has a point. Imagining what a paci would feel like in my mouth makes me feel so happy. I am just excited all around and can’t wait till tomorrow. For now my mom asked if I wanted some “little time” tonight and of course she said yes. We watched In the Night Garden on the big TV while she stroked my hair and cuddled when I normally only watch shows like that on my tablet as a form of stimming I guess. It was nice watching it where I could relax. I felt extra giggly at all the dumb stuff in the show, my friends describe it as an “acid trip” if that gives you an idea about what it’s like. My mom after the episode tickles me down and played games with me like I did when I was a little kid and I loved it. I started crying tears of happiness because I felt so loved I guess you could say. She teared a little bit too and told me every mother secretly wishes they could still baby their grown children so she said she had fun, I don’t know if it’s true or not but it’s a funny thought.

I feel so happy I wanted to write this out and share with you guys. I don’t know what else to say I think I wrote out enough. Now my mom wants me to get into my pajamas early I think she’s having too much fun with this but so am I and my dad is gonna run to get some of my favorite ice cream when I was a kid. I feel so lucky to have parents who can support my physical and emotional and disability support needs.

[narrans]

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Eleven | Remedies and Apologies

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Eleven | Remedies and Apologies

It took Soren a few minutes in the bathroom to compose himself after witnessing what he did with the miniscule woman. She was so small – so real. She could’ve been mistaken for being human if she were average height. The minute facial expressions were so clear that Soren could picture them if he closed his eyes. It was lucky that he was so good at reading people after the past few years of training.

Also, the girl didn’t have a poker face.

After pinching himself for the dozenth time and realizing this was no dream, he splashed a few handfuls of lukewarm water onto his face before heading for the kitchen. The sight that was waiting for him in the other room, however, made him wish it was a dream.

Dorian and Rey were both crestfallen on the couch. Shoulders were slumped. Eyes glossy with tears. Bottom lips trembling. Both boys sat on their hands and were holding still as they sat. Soren knew the position, since he was the one who implemented it. Well… his mom did anyway…

It was the position of punishment – time out.

When he did something wrong, his mom would make him sit on a chair quietly, usually with his hands under his legs, while he thought about what he did wrong. Soren didn’t experience this a lot as a child, but it was an effective method meant for him to reflect on what happened.

What was more astounding was the fact that Dorian and Rey were there. Soren hadn’t told them to go sit on time out. He’d just told them to go to the kitchen. Did they do this themselves? For feeling bad for what happened? Soren cleared his throat and both boys glanced over their shoulder, Dorian reaching up and wiping his nose on his sleeve, before looking away. It was a pitiful sight, but Soren was glad that the two of them seemed to recognize that they had messed up.

He walked around the couch and sat down on the wooden coffee table so he could face the two of them. His hazel eyes flicked from boy to boy before he took a breath and said, “Did you two put yourselves on time out?”

Both boys nodded.

“Do you know why you put yourselves on time out?” asked Soren. Both of them nodded before sniffling, their little brows furrowing as they shifted uncomfortably under Soren’s gaze. “Care to tell me about it?” Dorian was the first to pipe up between the two of them.

“Because,” he sniffled, snot rattling around in his nose. “I hurt the little person. I… I didn’t mean to. She was falling off of the desk and… and I didn’t think I grabbed her that hard. But… I’m sorry. I’m the one who said we shouldn’t bother you.” Soren clenched his jaw and nodded slowly before glancing at Rey.

“Rey? Why did you put yourself on time out?” asked Soren. Tears spilled down the cheeks of the young, pale blue eyed boy.

“Because I… I knew I should go get you and I didn’t. She was hurting all night because I didn’t do the right thing,” Rey said, his trembling voice tugging at his oldest brother’s heart strings.

Gosh… they’ve grown up so much. Mom… you’d be proud.

“Thank you both for apologizing,” stated Soren softly. “But remember what I said in the other room? I might not be the one you need to apologize to. Yeah?”

“H-how is s-sh-she?” asked Rey. “Is sh-she mad at us?”

“Right now, I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything as of now, but I think it’s just because she’s a bit scared; and it’s okay to be scared. If you think about how big the world is to us, imagine what it would be like coming from her perspective.” The boys nodded in agreement, so Soren continued. “She’s doing well right now, but she’s going to need some time to feel better and recover. I think she’s sick, probably with what we all had, and her arm is going to be sore.

“So, if you weren’t feeling well and were hurt, what would be something nice for someone to do for you?” asked Soren. The boys’ brows furrowed as they glanced at each other. As their caregiver, it was up to Soren to teach empathy and problem solving skills; and this was the perfect opportunity to test his two young brothers.

It only took a few seconds for Rey to speak first, muttering, “Get a comfy blanket?” It came out like a question, but it was a good start.

“Good. If she’s cold or wants to rest, a comfy blanket would be very nice to get her,” stated Soren.

“Let her pick the show she wants to watch,” suggested Dorian.

“Also a good idea. She might just want to rest at the moment though, but we can ask when she wakes up,” agreed Soren.

“I could make her something so she doesn’t have to use her hurt arm to reach for stuff,” Rey said eagerly.

“Also a good idea. We’ll need to spend time making it for her though. It has to be the right size and something she can use on her own,” Soren reminded.

“What if… what if we share some of our toys? She maybe could use some of them since she’s so small,” Dorian said.

“Again, good thinking. Remember we don’t want her to feel like a toy though. A person’s a person, no matter how small, and giving her pieces of toys or actual toys might give her the wrong idea,” Soren stated, which made Dorian’s features fall ever so slightly. His mind was in the right place though. Soren remembered the boys had some play toys that were forks and plates and knives, all things which the miniscule woman would be able to use. 

“Um… Get her something good to drink? And maybe eat?” asked Rey. Soren smiled and nodded, which brought back that little bit of twinkle in the boys’ eyes.

“I think that’s a great idea; and, while she’s resting, we can make something for her and for ourselves,” Soren smiled. “Now, who’s going to come help me in the kitchen?”

Both Dorian and Rey glanced eagerly at one another before looking back at Soren. Their collective illness had left them eating the minimum amount each day and, finally, they had an appetite again. They would have a chance to have a good breakfast for the first time in a week, and they would get to do something nice for their new little friend.

So, after Soren gave them a quick hair ruffle, the two youngsters trotted along behind Soren to help make things right.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Darkness. Bliss. Quiet. Warmth. Aching. Throbbing. Worry. Panic. Ease. Confusion. Exhaustion. The different feelings and thoughts and sensations swirled around her mind as she attempted to open her eyes for the first time in who knew how long. There were a few things that stood out to her.

One, she was still sick. A clogged nose and sore throat told her that much. She silently thanked her lucky stars that she wasn’t nauseous anymore. It probably had something to do with the cracker piece and cap of water Soren had given her before she’d passed out.

That’s right!

Ashlynn’s groggy senses sharpened in an instant as the clear memory of her simply laying down and falling asleep with a human within arm’s reach of her flashed before her eyes. Her body lurched involuntarily as she attempted to sit upright, but the immediate twinge in her arm told her she needed to move slower if she didn’t want to hurt herself more than what she already was. A fuzzy blanket was draped over her shoulder, which she vaguely remembered pulling onto her body as she fell asleep.

What kind of idiot Borrower am I? Falling asleep with a human so close by? I’m just asking to be… Ashlynn looked around the room while she felt her chest tighten as her thought tapered off into a single word. Caught…

The word rattled around in her head.

Caught. I’ve been seen. I’ve been caught. How on earth am I going to get out of this one?

Ashlynn glanced up at the ceiling, a sense of vertigo tugging her nausea back into the forefront of her mind. The Borrower woman tore her eyes away as she focused on her surroundings. The bottle cap filled partially with water was still in front of her. The cracker fragments were within arm’s reach. The red bag and container with the blue lid were gone, as was the human.

As far as she could tell, nothing else had been touched or removed. The only main difference was that the door was completely closed instead of being slightly propped open. On any other day, Ashlynn would be able to hear everything going on in the apartment and be able to pick up on faint scents that would be dangerous or good for her. Nothing was worse than losing your senses as a Borrower, and Ashlynn had lost two plus her injured arm.

Everything inside of her felt heavy, as though she’d spent the entire day borrowing and climbing. The spark of energy from earlier was depleted, and it was likely not going to come back without more rest. She reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. The piecemeal ideas coming to her were poor attempts to escape from the top of the bed and survive until her arm felt better.

I could try and climb down. No. Not if my arm keeps twinging like this. I’ll drop and fall. I could have a one handed line and lower myself down. No. I don’t have a line or safety pin. I might have that in my bag. Did I bring it with me? Shoot… it’s in the drawer. I can’t climb that again. I could try and make the jump to the bedside table, but… no… that’s not going to work either.

Ashlynn wasn’t sure how many poorly thought-out ideas came and went, but the ultimate realization came as she attempted to move her arm to test mobility.

I can’t leave… Not on my own… and not like this.

Her chest tightened, constricting her breathing, while her eyes started to burn again. It was a crushing realization. The autonomy she’d so enjoyed for all of her life had been crippled. The dangerous thought of whether or not she could even survive on her own even if she did get away began to grow stronger and stronger.

Before she could spiral completely into this new, crushing thought, Ashlynn felt the ground beginning to shake ever so slightly. It was low, deep, and rhythmic – all pointing to the signature human footstep approaching. The Borrower’s instinct was to flee and hide behind the edge of the drawer, but that dangerous thought of being unable to escape her current fate left Ashlynn planted firmly on the bedspread.

The door cracked open followed by a few distinct taps. Ashlynn could see Soren’s face as he opened the door and peered in. The sight alone was unnerving, sending a chill down her shivering spine, but she stayed seated. Whether she was freezing or simply too exhausted to move, Ashlynn wasn’t sure anymore. What she did know was that there was something warm and inviting in Soren’s smile as he pushed the door open a little more so he could step partially into the room.

“Hey there, little miss. Sleep alright?” asked Soren, his deep, melodic voice drifting through the air like warm cinnamon sugar. Ashlynn remained silent, still debating whether or not she should break the last Borrower rule and actually talk to the human in front of her.

When he didn’t receive a response, Soren nodded and pointed further into the room, asking, “Is it okay if I come in?”

Ashlynn wasn’t sure what to do. Did she respond? Nod? Shake? Say nothing? Or could Soren simply discern through whatever method he was using earlier to simply read her mind? A smile tugged at the corner of Soren’s lips as he nodded.

“Still not sure, huh?” he muttered. “I can come back later if you’d like. We just wanted to see if you were hungry and felt well enough to eat a little something.” Ashlynn chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought about the question. She didn’t really feel hungry, but then again she could probably eat. Was she actually not hungry? Or was it because she was feeling stressed and sick that kept her appetite at bay?

I have to do something.

Is nodding considered against the rules?

Would it be so bad if I nodded or shook my head?

“I’ll come back in a few minutes. Sound like a plan?” Soren’s decision took care of Ashlynn’s predicament, which was a relief. He’d be back sooner than later though, and she was no closer to a proper answer.

In what felt like only a few seconds, there was another set of short taps on the door as it once again swung open. Ashlynn’s heart skipped like a boulder down the mountain, crashing against her ribs in solid thuds, as her blue gray eyes snapped back to the door. It was Soren again. This time, however, he had something in his hands.

“Hey there, little miss. Thought any about if you’re hungry or not?” Ashlynn’s insides felt hollow, but still no appetite came to her. I need to eat something, probably. Alright… I… I have to do something…. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this!

Ashlynn looked back up with reluctance into Soren’s reassuring golden hazel eyes, the curiosity and fascination they held obviously being kept at bay and replaced with concern, before tearing her eyes away and doing something she hoped she wouldn’t regret.

She nodded.

The Borrower rules were always adamant, as were other Borrowers she’d met along with her family members, that the rule was, “Do not speak to a human. Don’t let them know you can talk.” The second part was, “Don’t let them know you can understand them. Otherwise, you’ll never be able to leave.” Ashlynn was purposefully ignoring that part of the rule in hopes that Soren, a human, would be understanding and let her go; or, at the very least, not stop her when she was well enough to leave.  

She felt her insides churn when she saw Soren’s eyes widen, even from across the room, as he registered her acknowledgement of his question. What was going through his mind? Was he contemplating if it was a fluke? Or was he making plans to keep her now that she’d made her intelligence known? At the moment, it only prompted him to ask another question, which was, “Is it okay if I come in? I have a few things I hope you might like.”

Again, Ashlynn forced herself to swallow the bile in the back of her throat as she nodded again. Her chest compressed. Everything felt tight. She listened to the approaching footsteps and shut her eyes tight, wishing herself to be anywhere but here. The comforter nearby shifted, telling Ashlynn that Soren was within a foot or so of her. She flinched away involuntary, which only made her arm twinge.

She felt herself starting to shake as she chewed the bottom of her lip. The dry flecks of skin pealed off easily from her teeth scraping against them, creating a nasty flaking paste in her mouth. To keep herself from gagging, she reached up and spit out the substance into her sleeve while wiping her mouth.

Thud.

Thud.

Ashlynn thought it sounded like Soren’s knees hitting the ground one at a time, and a quick glance up revealed she was right. Soren was indeed only a few feet away, further than she thought, and an immense wooden tray was to her left.

It was then that she heard something she wasn’t expecting – a nervous exhale. Ashlynn glanced up just in time to catch the slightest bit of nerves in Soren’s eyes as he attempted to smile with some reassurance.

Weird for him to be nervous. He’s the human here, not me. He’s got the power. He’s in control. Why is he nervous?

“Feeling any better?” Soren asked. Ashlynn clenched her jaw, completely entranced by his eyes, before looking down at her feet that she’d pulled closer to her, and shaking her head. Again, a faint, nervous breath from Soren. “No? Well, that’s to be expected. You were only asleep for a little while. You’ll need more sleep and, well, pretty much everything else if you want to get better.

“Speaking of which, we weren’t sure what you’d like so we made a little spread. We have some cut fruit, cream of wheat, pancakes, sausage, a bit of bread, and some of the soup that I made for the boys. They call it magic broth, but it’s just a bunch of vegetables and meat that’ll help you feel better. Sorry if that was a lot all at once. And don’t feel obligated to finish anything, especially if you don’t like it. Okay?”

The list was enough to make Ashlynn’s head spin. It sounded like he listed off an entire pantry’s worth of food, and yet it was all there on that tray. Honestly, crackers sounded the best because she hadn’t been sick after eating one of those. Plus, she hadn’t heard of a bunch of the things Soren talked about; but, if it made her feel better, she was willing to give it a try. Getting out of here was the goal, and the sooner the better.

“Do… you need help up? Or do you just want to move over here at your own pace?” asked Soren. Ashlynn’s expression, even before she shook her head, must’ve said it all because Soren smiled and chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I’d probably say the same thing if I were in your shoes. Just two more things and then I’ll leave you alone. Deal?”

The question was an earnest one, and he was obviously seeking some kind of confirmation, so Ashlynn nodded. It made her insides twist uncomfortably, but it was with the promise that she would be left on her own.

“Alrighty. Thing one is whether or not you feel up to taking some medicine.” The word made Ashlynn’s insides clench. Medicine? Like the stuff that made me throw up and got me into this whole mess in the first place? “I don’t know if you want to take any, but it might make you feel better faster and let your body get some essential rest. I also don’t know what you can and can’t take, so we can play that by ear if you’re willing to try it.

“Thing two, and you’ll probably say no but I want to ask, is that the boys want to apologize to you.”

Ashlynn’s blood ran cold.

Apologize?

The boys?

Have those two young boys near me again?

“I know, and I figured that would be your reaction; but, I promised I would ask. They feel really bad about everything that happened last night and want to say that they’re sorry. It’s up to you, obviously, but it would mean a lot to them. They could just stand by the door and not come in if that’s what you’re worried about,” explained Soren. “But, anyway, I wanted to ask on their behalf.”

Ashlynn wasn’t sure what to think. Much like the dilemma with whether to nod and shake her head to communicate roughly with Soren, there was no clear answer that made her feel confident. If she said no, it might make Soren and the boys angry and lead to some kind of punishment of some kind. If she said yes, she would have to see the two young humans and possibly have to interact with them as well.

Soren, thankfully, had given her the choice and simply pleaded the boys’ case. After a brief silence, Soren left the room and Ashlynn was once again alone. She still felt weak. Every part of her felt tingly and brittle, like she’d fall apart at any moment. It took nearly five minutes just to stand on her feet and prop herself against the wooden drawer that was once her prison. With a little effort, she managed to make it up onto the tray to view the enormous buffet in front of her. Everything was in some kind of bottle cap or tin foil, perfectly laid out along with what looked like a small plastic bowl and a few tiny utensils that looked like they belonged to a doll house.

She’d never seen so much food. Not only that. Ashlynn had never seen so much food untouched and unspoiled, just ready to eat. It made her head spin that humans could have so much at hand while her and every other Borrower had to fight every day for unspoiled scraps. Days of not eating well made her mouth water at the mere sight of the display before her, even though her appetite wasn’t completely back. She recognized almost everything, but decided to focus on the “magic broth” Soren had mentioned.

Ashlynn walked over, sat down, and cautiously dipped out a small portion into the tiny plastic bowl she’d been given. Her sense of taste was skewed, but it was still warm and, from what she could tell, delicious. She’d never had something so mouthwatering before. Between that and the bread, she nearly finished the entire bottle cap as she sat there in silence as she picked up fragments of sound in the apartment.

So… they eat like this every day? What is there to ever complain about then? It must be nice, not having to worry where your next meal is coming from…. Maybe… being a pet wouldn’t be so bad…

It was an intrusive thought, jolting Ashlynn out of her stupor.

What?! What on earth am I thinking?! I’m not a pet. I’m a person. I’m a Borrower. I shouldn’t even be out here! I’m just here until I’m better. Right? Just until I break this stupid sickness and then I’ll be back in the walls, with or without my arm feeling up to snuff.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The soft three wrap knocking on the door snagged Ashlynn’s attention and directed it back toward the door where, sure enough, there was Soren. He was standing there with a friendly and hopeful look as he cracked open the door a little wider.

“Hey there, little miss. How are you feeling? Is it okay if I come in?” Ashlynn thought about the question for a minute while she huddled on the tray before nodding. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but noticed once he came in that he had a couple of small cups in his hands. Well, small for him. For Ashlynn, they looked like wash bins for dishes or clothes.

When Soren was close enough, he once again knelt on the ground a few feet or so away from where Ashlynn was sitting, making her heart jump into her throat, as she glimpsed at what Soren had in the cups. The nausea in the back of her throat reared its head when she noticed the dark teal liquid in one of the cups.

“I hope you’re feeling better. Looks like you enjoyed some of the soup at least,” Soren said. Ashlynn glanced down bashfully, unsure if she was supposed to have as much as she did or if it was just a ration, before Soren continued, saying, “If you want any more, just let me know.

“Anyway, I’m back to see if you’ve thought about the two things I mentioned earlier. One about the medicine and two about the boys. Any thoughts?”

Ashlynn found herself chewing on the inside of her cheek again nervously. She hadn’t really given it much thought, and now Soren was expecting some kind of answer. She pulled her injured arm closer to her torso, making it twinge once again, while averting her eyes.

“Not sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought it might help you get some decent rest,” stated Soren. “And… for the boys? Is that also a no?”

Ashlynn swallowed dryly, her sore throat forming a tight lump and making it difficult for her. She could still taste the sick mucus coating her throat as she did. It made the Borrower want to gag. This time, however, her apprehension seemed to ease as she thought about the pale blue eyes of the youngest boy.

That one… Rey… he didn’t seem angry or malicious when he was holding onto me. And… the other… Dorian… it feels… like an accident. He shouldn’t have grabbed so hard, but… Soren’s right… he’s just a kid. Both of them are. They’re just kids who want to say they’re sorry. Maybe… I owe them that much? I guess it’s all Soren can ask of me. If letting the boys say sorry is the only “payment” for patching me up and letting me go, then it is a small price to pay.

She couldn’t believe it, but Ashlynn let herself shake her head. Soren’s eyes gleamed happily as he asked cautiously, “You… just shook your head? So, that means yes? That you’d be okay with the boys apologizing?”

Ashlynn nodded slowly, but tensely.

“That’s… great. Seriously, thank you. This’ll mean the world to them. I’ll keep them by the door for you, if you’re okay with that,” Soren said. Ashlynn nodded again.

Soren’s heart was racing as he marveled at the hand sized woman sitting on the tray in front of him. Her responding to “yes” and “no” questions was both a shock and novel experience. Soren suspected she could understand him, but it was only confirmed with that first small nod. He could only hope that her responding mixed with his efforts and his brothers’ apology would help form a little more trust with the miniscule woman.

He stood as carefully as he could and stepped out of the room to see his two brothers eagerly waiting by the edge of the kitchen table. Both of their pale blue eyes looked at him with hopeful anticipation as he stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. With a smile, the boys knew immediately that their request had been granted. Before they could start cheering, however, Soren knelt in front of them and laid a heavy hand on each of their shoulders.

“Okay, you two, we need to be on our best behavior. She agreed, but you will have to stand by the door. She’s still a bit apprehensive of all of us. Speak clearly and gently. She’s still sick and hurt. I’m sure all of this is a lot for her. More importantly, she’s a person with thoughts and feelings. We need to respect that. Understand?” asked Soren. “A person’s a person, no matter how small.”

“Yessir,” both Dorian and Rey said simultaneously. Soren smiled, coaxing the boys forward as he stood, before tapping on the door again.

When the door opened again, Ashlynn saw all three humans consuming the doorway from one side to the other. It was an unnerving sight, and it made Ashlynn squirm ever so slightly. Still, true to his word, Soren kept the boys by the door as they spotted her. All six eyes were fixed on her body, making her feel like she was standing under a magnifying glass, a thing she found unnerving in the last home she lived in.

“Um… miss?” spoke up the youngest as he glanced up at Soren before looking back at her. “I’m… well… we’re really sorry about last night. We shouldn’t have put you in the drawer, and we should’ve seen if you were okay before we went to bed. I should’ve gotten Soren to help check on you, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that.” Tears glistened in the boy’s eyes as he sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve.

“I’m sorry too, miss,” Dorian said, his voice shaking ever so slightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or your arm. I thought I was helping you by keeping you from falling off of the desk. I shouldn’t have grabbed so hard. And I should’ve gotten help sooner with Rey. I hope you can forgive me.”

Seeing the two human boys with glistening tears rolling down their cheeks sent Ashlynn back into her memory. She remembered seeing her younger brother apologize like this when he had broken her first borrowing and, in that moment, Ashlynn could only sense genuine remorse from the two young humans.

It was a pitiful, sad sight. It made Ashlynn’s heart flutter and left her nodding subtly before tearing her eyes away from the three humans. She missed the look of surprise and relief on Dorian’s and Rey’s faces when they saw her nod, but what she didn’t miss was Soren ushering the boys out of the room and walking back over to her.

“Thank you…”

Ashlynn glanced into Soren’s eyes just for a moment and, like every other time, saw fascination, but also gratitude. It made his eyes shine like the evening sun on a summer day. Ashlynn wasn’t sure if it was her fever or the sudden thrum in her heart beating faster, but her cheeks and body suddenly felt completely flush.

She looked away quickly, hoping Soren didn’t notice, and listened as he asked about whether or not she wanted to take either of the medicines he brought. The teal one was something called NyQuil, which helped with fevers and cold symptoms as well as her pain. The other one with a much longer, technical name that Ashlynn had no hope of pronouncing, was meant to help reduce the fever and help with the pain. Though she hated both options, especially how they smelled, the one that could handle it all was, to her dismay, the teal NyQuil.

“You don’t like the smell or taste?” asked Soren. Ashlynn shook her head as she stared at her muted reflection in the viscous fluid. “Well, that’s good. Means your like everyone else who’s ever taken it. Word of advice. Hold your nose as you swallow and drink something immediately after to get rid of the taste. It’ll make the experience less miserable.”

Ashlynn remembered Soren saying something like that to his brothers before they took this medicine, and she intended on taking his advice. Taking a deep breath, she only took a single mouthful as she held her nose and swallowed. It felt like the same mucus coating her throat as the liquid traveled down her throat. There was a burning and cooling sensation happening all at once, making her gag as she had done the night before. Quickly though, she stepped over to the cup of water Soren had brought and drank as much as she could muster before gasping for air again.

The moment she breathed, she could feel the cooling burn the medicine left behind, but it was nowhere near as bad as what had happened the first time she put the teal liquid into her mouth.

“Better?” asked Soren. The Borrower woman nodded as she drank a little more water to soothe her aching throat. “Good. Well, you should try and get some more rest, okay? That medicine will let you sleep long and hard, so take advantage of it. I’ll make sure the boys don’t come bother you, but I’ll be back to check if you need anything. Sound good? And don’t worry about the food. I’ll leave it here if you get peckish.”

Ashlynn watched as Soren once again vacated the room, surrendering it completely to her. She breathed a sigh of relief as she made her way back to the wooden box and retrieved her blanket. She pulled it over to the corner and made a comfortable place before laying down, eyelids drifting lower and lower as relaxation flirted with her desire to sleep.

I’ll be better soon. I just have to make it a few more days and then I’ll escape. I hope I’m better by then anyway…

And Soren… he’s been so kind. Maybe… maybe he’s not such a bad human. Maybe none of them are…. No. Don’t worry about that now. Get some sleep. Feel better. Find a way to thank Soren… eventually.

With that, Ashlynn succumbed to sleep once more, the first signs of being on the mend on the horizon.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue | Coming Soon

Previous

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A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

[apomaro-mellow]

Love a good rockstar eddie, how about rockstar au for the bingo?

Steddie Bingo Prompt: Rockstar AU

"You're on in five!"

Eddie smiled at himself in the mirror, looking himself over one final time. It was one TV appearance out of many. But this one was special to him. Once the last check on his makeup was done, he was led to the wings of the stage, waiting to be called on. He could feel the audience's buzz come to a crescendo as the host of the show came out and welcomed everyone.

Late night talk show hosts seemed a dime a dozen to Eddie. They all asked the same questions and the audience clapped at their lame jokes and Eddie felt like he was reading off a script the entire time. He kind of was, given that they obviously had to rehearse and screen the questions beforehand. But this host was different.

"Alright, let's give a big hand to our guest for tonight! Eddie Munson!"

Eddie walked out, both hands in the air as he waved to the studio audience as they roared for him. But once he turned to greet the host, he knew he wouldn't be looking anywhere else for the rest of this recording. Eddie usually gave handshakes to people he was meeting, as most did. Sometimes the ladies got a bow. And Eddie had reined himself in and done that the first time he met this host.

But now, for all the world to see, he took the man's hand, gave him a deep bow, and kissed the back of his hand. There were squeals in the audience, but Eddie swore he could hear an intake of breath from the man before him. Then, just as smooth as anything, they both found their seats, one behind a desk and one on a couch.

Steve Harrington. Dressed in a navy suit that made his skin seem like gold. To say Eddie was obsessed was an understatement. He'd seen a video that went viral two years ago, of Steve interviewing a young child actress. She was eight and they spent the interview coloring on his desk. Eddie knew he wanted to meet him then. But there was getting in the studio, shooting music videos, convincing his uncle to leave the trailer and move into the house he deserved to own, and of course, other interviews.

But through all that time, Eddie hardly missed an episode of Steve's show. It was the first time he’d ever paid more attention to the host than the person being interviewed. Didn’t matter who it was or how little Eddie cared about their career. It was all to see Steve’s bright smile, sparkling eyes, to hear his laugh and the little inflections in his voice. And now it was all directed at him.

They started with the softball questions of course, how his new album was going, if he had any hopes for the new year, how he spent the holidays. Eddie answered, enjoying talking with him but then he saw a glint in Steve’s eye.

“So you know we couldn’t have a musician on here without having them play a little song for us.”

“Ah, of course”, Eddie grinned, figuring they’d want a little sample of the new single as a guitar was brought out for him. But he should have known it wasn’t that straightforward as Steve brought out another guitar from under his desk and strapped it to himself.

Eddie raised a brow as he watched Steve tune his. Then Steve was looking at him again, smiling before he strummed a simple tune, one that started off soft but then got foreboding.

“~Lions, and tigers, and bears bring woe~ What animal is your natural foe~?”

Eddie beamed and got ready to rip into it. Admitting he was scared of ducks wasn’t entirely ideal. But he figured the audience would get a kick out of it. Besides, he was hoping that if he played his cards right (and this interview/jam session) he’d be leaving with Steve’s number.

@steddiebingo

Card:

[thesun4ndthestar]

•Stargazing•

Regulus was sitting on a bench at the end of the shore, looking at the stars, drowning in that familiar feeling of comfort he used to get when he was still a child, stargazing with his brother.

His mind in the last few weeks was restless.

As Sirius did when he was younger, Regulus had just escaped the nightmare that was his home, and now he was living with his brother’s best friend and, of course, his brother.

He couldn’t resist the tears that started falling from his eyes when thinking about how he had just betrayed his parents. The same people that he always hated, the people that ruined his childhood, that never supported him. The same people that encouraged him only when he did what they strictly wanted, the people he was growing to please with whatever they wished him to do. All things that he never really wanted to do, but always did feeling the urge to meet some expectations, their expectations, that were actually unattainable, too high to meet for anyone with at least a little bit of humanity.

“Is everything alright?” someone asked him sitting beside him on the bench.

“What are you even doing here, Potter?” he replied coldly.

“I saw you sneak out, I knew something was wrong so I followed you.” James replied giving Regulus one of his smiles, for which every girl (and non) in Hogwarts immediately melted after seeing.

“Neve heard of something called privacy?” Another tear escaped Regulus’ eye.

“That’s is hardly a thing while living with Potters and you should know that since you’ve already spent a month with us. Besides you’re crying.”

“No shit, I didn’t notice, smartarse.”

“Is that Regulus up there? Sirius taught me a bit about stars.” James asked trying to change topic, not minding the insult he had just received from the boy next to him.

“Yes, it is.” Regulus replied, his eyes up again on the night sky.

“Aren’t you cold? You don’t seem to be wearing anything warm.” James asked worryingly.

“Asks the one that’s in his pyjamas and a jumper.”

“Hey, don’t be mean! At least I have a jumper on!” said that, an idea flashed in James’ mind and he started talking off the jumper. “Here, take it, I don’t want you catching a cold.”

“If I take it, you’ll be the one catching a cold.”

“Since when do you care about me, Reg?”

“I don’t, and it’s Regulus for you.”

James smiled as Regulus reluctantly took his jumper. They spent almost two whole hours stargazing and making small talk, which both of them actually hated, but every time James tried asking something more deep to the younger one, he frowned and scolded the older saying “too personal, you don’t have to know”. What both didn’t realise though was that even the smaller questions such as: what’s your favourite colour? or do you have a favourite pen? or also what kind of music do you listen to? made them get closer, more than Regulus would have liked if he realised, but less than how James secretly wanted.

[callmeizukunotdeku]

I love the idea of parentified Tim Drake.

Bruce loses Jason and isn't ready for another son. Tim sees this, he acknowledges this, and he's okay with it. He's never really been a son to his own parents so he wouldn't expect the neighbor to start taking care of him.

When Tim's parents come home, they're not mean or anything, they just don't baby him. They treat him as an equal--as someone who knows what he's doing--and that's fine, because he does.

He's been taking care of himself for as long as he could remember, so when people try to treat him like a child, it angers him more than anything. The way that they assume just because he's young he can't take care of himself.

Tim's been to galas before, though. He's talked with Bruce and the man never treated him like he was incompetent. Tim's parents would ask Tim questions about the company so that he could recite them to Bruce. It was a song and dance he was well versed in, but he didn't really mind, not when Bruce looked at him with such a fondness in his eyes, always saying, "That's really interesting. You know a lot about your parents' company. Did it take you a while to memorize it?"

And he'd shake his head and say, "No," because that was the correct response, even if it was wrong.

Even if he had flashcards about Drake industries and kept up to date with perception of the company and the stock value and who the shareholders were and what they wanted and what they were willing to do to get that.

It wasn't one bout of work. It wasn't a single night of studying to make sure he passed the test, but a lifetime memorizing information and then rememorizing it when it changed.

So when Jason died and Bruce started getting bad, Tim knew what to do.

He was used to long term projects where it would be years before he actually got to see any result. He was used to seeing adults as people who he was responsible for, though he had to admit that the responsibility had never been that big before.

When Tim showed up at Bruce's doorstep, he was young, just like both of Bruce's other sons, but his eyes lacked that sort of naïveté and childlike wonder that should have accompanied the baby fat which persisted on his cheeks.

That's what made Alfred pause at the door.

There was a kid. A black haired, blue eyed kid. He was young, like both of Bruce's sons. His lack of naïveté was something he shared with both children, only Dick's had been a fresh sort of loss, one he was still mourning, and Jason's naïveté was something long-forgotten and left to rot. It was a feeling you smelt when you left the windows closed for too long.

Still there, still somewhere, but not quite right and never able to be found, only stumbled upon in rare moments of something that could almost be called joy.

Tim's naïveté is something he left at home. He keeps it on a shelf in his bedroom, something to look at when the going gets rough, but something too fragile to be held.

Maybe that's why Alfred lets him in.

That day, Tim meets Bruce--not Brucie or Batman, just Bruce.

He meets a man who's hair's grown long, but not long enough for it to have been intentional. There's grease in his hair and bags under his eyes and you can tell that he's been biting his nails.

He's clean shaven, because that's what people can see when he wears the cowl.

Tim takes a deep breath before walking into the room.

Bruce doesn't move, but Tim doesn't doubt that the man notices him.

The room smells like alcohol--a smell he recognizes from when his own father is home, though he can't say he's ever remembered it smelling so concentrated.

"Hello," he says, when he's right in front of Bruce, "My name is Tim, and I'm here to help."

Bruce doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to.

Tim talks to him, slowly distracting the man as he brings him to the bathroom, first trying to put a toothbrush in his hand and then, when that doesn't work, brushing the man's teeth himself.

Tim draws a bath for him and grabs him a new pair of clothes, and tells him to take his bath, only leaving the room when Bruce finally stands up and starts undressing.

Tim takes care of the sheets, puts new ones on the bed, and goes to the kitchen, to find Alfred already making food.

The butler asks him if he's staying to eat but Tim just insists that he's not hungry and brings the food up to Bruce.

He knocks on the bathroom door, and when Bruce doesn't respond, he opens it.

Bruce is sitting in the bath, knees to his chest, crying, but not otherwise moving.

So Tim rolls up his sleeves and washes Bruce's hair, then keeps him company as Bruce washes himself.

Bruce finds it easier to get things done when there's someone else in the room--talking to him, giving him something else to think about.

Tim talks as he gets Bruce out of the bath and hand him a towel. He talks as Bruce dries himself off and gets dressed. He talks as Bruce eats the lunch that Alfred made him and he talks until he gets Bruce back to bed.

He leaves, voice hoarse from talking so much after living in an empty home.

He comes back the next day and does it all again.

Alfred doesn't know what he should do. He knows, of course, that Tim is young and shouldn't be taking care of someone at that age.

He also knows that Bruce is in no state to take care of himself and all of Alfred's attempts have been in vain.

Tim's talking was what got Bruce to eat his first actual meal in a week--not just popcorn and protein bars. Tim's presence is what got Bruce to bed.

Tim was what was making things better, so while Alfred knew he should put a stop to it, he couldn't quite make himself do so.

Instead, he started doing little things.

He invited Tim to stay for meals.

Invited Tim to stay the night.

It took a while, but eventually, Tim started living in the manor.

One month, there's only ghosts in the house, the next, three beating hearts.

One month, Bruce can only think of his son, the next, he's calling Tim his dad.

One day, Bruce crosses the line as Batman, and the next day, he has a Robin.

You know how things go from there, some things are lost, others are gained. Some things stay the same, others do nothing but change.

Bruce and Tim get better, but Bruce still thinks of Tim as his dad.

No one really pays it much heed, though. That's just how they are--nothing really to note.

It's Dick, though, who starts noticing something's off, because Tim never sleeps.

When Dick was first adopted, he had nightmares.

He'd remember what it was like to watch someone fall. He did not watch it from the ground, but from the balcony, holding onto a trapeze, moments away from completing his own jump.

It took him months to finally come to Bruce, tell him about his nightmares.

Though he was never told the details, he knew it was the same for Jason. He pushed Bruce away, insisted that he'd be fine on his own, but eventually started letting him in.

He never asked, but assumed it was the same for Tim. When Tim couldn't sleep, when he had nightmares, when he couldn't stand to sleep in an empty bed, he'd go to Bruce like the rest of them did.

It was a reasonable thing to assume, and it was a belief he only questioned when he got up in the middle of the night to get water.

That same night, Bruce had a nightmare. Bruce knocked on Tim's door. Bruce slept in Tim's bed.

Tim ran his hands through Bruce's hair, promising that everything would be okay until Bruce fell asleep.

Now that he knew to look for it, Dick started noticing even more. The way Tim knew Bruce's favorite food and the way Tim took care of the man's company so that Bruce had the freedom to do what he wanted. The way Bruce turned to Tim when he had a problem or wanted to be told he did something well.

It was wrong.

It was wrong and Dick was trapped because he hadn't noticed it earlier. Why didn't he notice it earlier?

Tim came to him first, asked him to become Robin again. Dick knew about Tim from the start. Dick was there for the entirety of his stay as Robin.

He was there.

So why didn't he noticed?

Jason sees him panicking on patrol and Dick just breaks.

He breaks down in his brother's arms--arms he can feel tightening around him as he tells him everything.

They talk about it a lot after that. Jason starts noticing things too.

They bring in Babs and start making a file--compiling evidence because there's always the urge to just ignore it. To acknowledge that Bruce is doing better than ever.

But that requires them to forget about Tim.

To let the boy take care of Bruce and not live his own life.

Because, now that they're looking, they can see how lonely it is.

How he doesn't have any school friends--he had to drop out to take over WE.

How he's grown apart from Young Justice--always leaving when Bruce is in trouble or needs someone to talk to, not able to bear the idea of what Bruce might do if left alone.

Because Tim knows he'll break.

Bruce needs someone to take care of him, and Tim exists to fulfill the needs of others, regardless of how much it takes from him.

So Tim goes and helps his son. He never talks about how tired he is. He has sleeping pills to fix that, and maybe he can't take them because what if Bruce has a nightmare and then he can't wake up Tim--it's unimaginable.

Dick and Jason notice, though, and they try to bring it up with him, but they're not sure how.

Not when Tim's gut reaction is just to start taking care of them, too. Easing their worries, telling them that everything's okay.

They want so bad to insist that it's not okay, that this is going to ruin Tim and he can't spend his whole life like this.

But they want even more to be held. To be granted that unconditional love and care that comes with being Tim's child.

So they try to say something--anything.

But then, Tim smiles. He opens his arms to them and asks about their days.

And they they try to tell him that not everything's okay, but Tim is smiling, and they try, but they can't say a thing.

[myonexox]

Enhypen Jay Oneshot

pairing : husband!jay x female!reader pov : you accidentally cut your finger while cooking warnings : blood and minor injury (a cut) the smell of sizzling garlic and onions filled the air as you stood in the kitchen, chopping vegetables while jay stirred the pot on the stove. cooking together had become a cherished routine for the two of you, a small but meaningful way to bond after busy days.

“babe, are you sure you don’t want me to handle the chopping?” he glanced over his shoulder. “you’re always so reckless with knives”

you rolled your eyes but smiled. “it's okay, i’ve got this. you're treating me like i'm a child”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to the stove. “if you say so. but don’t come crying to me when you—”

as you sliced through a particularly stubborn carrot, the knife slipped, grazing your finger. you let out a sharp hiss, pulling your hand back instinctively. you stared at the small bead of blood forming on your fingertip.

“yah!” he said as he spun around, abandoning the pot on the stove. his eyes widened when he saw your finger. “what did i tell you? let me see that”

“jay, i'm fine. it’s just a tiny cut” you protested, trying to downplay the situation. “i’ve had worse, you know”

“tiny cut or not, i don't care” he insisted, grabbing a clean kitchen towel. he dabbed at your finger gently before ushering you to sit at the dining table. “stay here. don’t move”

“i’m fine! seriously, it’s not—”

“sit” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument. you huffed but complied, watching as he rummaged through the first aid kit with an urgency that made you want to laugh. his brows were furrowed in concentration and his lips were slightly pouted, the look he wore whenever he was completely focused on something.

“you’re acting like i’ve lost a limb” you teased as he returned, kneeling in front of you with antiseptic and a bandage. "come on, it's not that serious"

“this might sting a little” he said softly, ignoring your comment as he dabbed the antiseptic on your finger. he blew on it gently, his warm breath soothing the slight sting. you bit back a laugh at how serious he was.

“jay, seriously” you said, watching him carefully wrap the bandage around your finger. “it’s just a cut. i’m used to it”

his hands paused and he looked up at you, furrowing his eyebrows. “what do you mean you’re used to it?”

you shrugged, feeling a little sheepish under his gaze. “i used to cut my fingers almost all the time when i cooked. so, it’s not a big deal. relax”

his lips parted as if he was about to say something but then he shook his head. “that’s ridiculous. of course it’s a big deal. you’re my wife. how could i not care?”

“you’re overreacting” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

he raised an eyebrow at you. “how am i overreacting? you know what, people say you should treat your wife like a queen, not a maid. isn’t that what i’m doing right now?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his words.

his lips curved into a soft smile and he pressed a kiss to the top of your bandaged finger. “so, my reckless queen, no more chopping for you today. i’ll handle it”

“but i want to help!” you argued, crossing your arms.

“just watch me, okay?” he said with a playful smirk as he stood up and returned to the cutting board. “i’ll have dinner ready in no time. so just sit there and look pretty”

you let out a soft chuckle at his words as you watched him work.

“you know, you really scared me for a second there” he admitted, glancing at you.

“scared you?” you asked, tilting your head. “jay, you're so serious. it was just a little cut”

“still” he said, turning to look at you. “the thought of you being hurt even a little, makes my heart stop. i can’t help it. so please, be careful next time”

you replied with a soft smile. for someone who had spent so long being unnoticed, being loved by jay felt like living in a dream you never wanted to wake up from. you watched him cooking in silence. moments like these, though simple, were the ones you cherished the most.

[dreamersworldduh]

Hi! Do you have the requests open? If so I would like to ask maybe something about tim drake x male reader. Nothing very special, maybe the reader is a Kryptonian and also has a "hate/rivalry" relationship with him, That once the reader is seriously injured by kryptonite and Tim worries and takes care of him day and night while the reader recovers. I don't know, I think it would be interesting to see that, besides you write amazingly and it would be even cooler, there could even be a mini-series lol. Well I hope you manage to do it, if not, Well, I'll understand it anyway, I hope to continue reading your stories soon (I love Damian's story) 🥰🥰🥰

THORN IN HIS SIDE

• TIM DRAKE x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Tim Drake, the focused leader of the Teen Titans, managed the unique strengths and challenges of his team. Each member, like Cassie, Raven, Starfire, and Beast Boy, contributed in their own way. Tim thrived on structure, carefully crafting strategies while keeping the team in line. However, one member, you, constantly tested his patience and disrupted his plans. Unlike Tim, you relied on instinct and preferred spontaneous actions. Though you weren't incapable, your unpredictable methods frustrated him. Your confidence and charisma rallied the team, making Tim feel as if he was competing for their loyalty. Despite his annoyance, Tim recognized your invaluable contributions, often leading to fresh ideas and inspiring others. In his heart, he was grateful for your influence on the Titans.

WARNING! FLUFF! Violence.

WORDS! 6.3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Thank you for your request and your support! Much love 🫶🏽 I hope you enjoy 😉✨

Y/N, a Kryptonian sharing the same alien heritage as Superman, never imagined the life he now lived. Rescued as a child from Krypton's destruction, his abilities rivaled the immense power of the Man of Steel, yet they remained raw and untamed. For years, he worked as Superman's protégé, absorbing the lessons of heroism under the unwavering gaze of Earth's greatest champion. While Y/N admired his mentor, he constantly battled with the daunting weight of expectation, struggling to carve out his own identity in the shadow of a living legend.

Amid this journey, Y/N's journey caught the eye of Wonder Girl, a rising star in the superhero world and a key figure in the Teen Titans. She saw something unique in him—a mix of vulnerability and raw strength that reminded her of what it meant to be young, powerful, and searching for purpose. To her, Y/N wasn't just another Kryptonian powerhouse; he was someone with untapped potential and a soul yearning for connection. Wonder Girl believed Y/N could bring something extraordinary to the Titans, a team that embodied the perfect balance between family and fighting force.

One day, Wonder Girl approached Y/N with an invitation that would change the trajectory of his life. She spoke with conviction about the Titans—how they weren't just a team but a close-knit family that thrived on mutual support and understanding. She described the camaraderie, the thrill of standing shoulder-to-shoulder with peers who understood the burden of extraordinary abilities, and the chance for Y/N to grow beyond the long shadow of Superman. Though hesitant at first, Y/N was intrigued. After much thought, he accepted the offer, yearning for a fresh start and the opportunity to prove himself.

Joining the Titans felt like stepping into a new world. The team welcomed him warmly, their diverse personalities forming a vibrant and chaotic tapestry of young heroism. Beast Boy wasted no time cracking jokes to break the ice, while Starfire's infectious enthusiasm made Y/N feel immediately at home. Even Raven, with her enigmatic demeanor, offered a quiet nod of approval. Missions with the team were exhilarating, pushing Y/N to adapt quickly as he realized just how much his Kryptonian powers could contribute. Yet, not everything was seamless, especially when he met the Titans' leader, Tim Drake.

Tim, the third Robin and a tactical genius, was the polar opposite of Y/N. Where Y/N relied on instinct and raw power, Tim was meticulous, deliberate, and calculated. From the moment they met, their personalities clashed like oil and water. Strategy meetings became arenas for subtle confrontations; Y/N often suggested daring, high-risk plans fueled by his confidence in his abilities, while Tim meticulously picked apart every flaw in his proposals. Tim's cold, analytical tone grated on Y/N's nerves, and Y/N's impulsive nature frustrated Tim to no end.

Their friction extended to the battlefield. Y/N's instinct to leap headfirst into danger often disrupted Tim's carefully laid plans. While his intentions were always noble—saving teammates, defusing threats before they escalated—Tim saw his actions as reckless, a disregard for the chain of command. Meanwhile, Y/N bristled at what he perceived as Tim's unwillingness to trust his instincts or acknowledge his contributions. The tension simmered, turning every mission into a secondary battleground between them.

For the rest of the team, the dynamic was impossible to ignore. Beast Boy jokingly referred to them as "frenemies," though the underlying tension was no laughing matter. Starfire tried to mediate with her boundless optimism, while Raven remained characteristically silent, though her raised brow often betrayed her amusement at their constant bickering. Despite the volatility, neither Y/N nor Tim could deny the other's strengths. Y/N couldn't help but respect Tim's brilliance, even if he found his rigid demeanor insufferable. Likewise, Tim begrudgingly acknowledged—if only to himself—that Y/N's raw power and instincts had saved the team more times than he cared to admit.

Their relationship became a powder keg of competition and unspoken respect. Y/N pushed Tim to loosen his grip on control, while Tim forced Y/N to think before acting. Each encounter between them was a battle of wills, with the team holding their breath to see whether the two would eventually find common ground—or explode into an all-out clash. One thing was certain: their rivalry, however tense, was driving them both to new heights. Whether it would ultimately end in mutual respect or irrevocable division was a question only time would answer.

Tim leaned against the counter in the Titans Tower common area, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene outside. The sprawling lawn just beyond the glass windows was alive with activity, the sounds of laughter and playful banter filtering faintly through the thick panes. Y/N was at the center of it, locked in an impromptu game of tag with Superboy and Beast Boy. The grin on his face was wide and unapologetically mischievous as he blurred across the lawn with Kryptonian speed, effortlessly dodging Beast Boy, who had taken on the sleek, feathered form of a falcon.

Hovering nearby, Superboy—arms crossed and a smirk tugging at his lips—watched the spectacle with amusement. "Really, Y/N? That's the best you've got? You call that fast?" Conner teased, his tone full of mock arrogance.

Y/N laughed, his voice bright and unrestrained. "Faster than you, Conner. Want me to prove it?" He suddenly shot upward, hovering in the air just long enough to taunt his feathered pursuer. "Come on, bird-boy, step it up!"

Beast Boy swooped low in an attempt to tag Y/N, only for the Kryptonian to spin out of his reach at the last moment, landing gracefully on the grass below. The crunch of his boots barely registered before he was off again, the game picking up in intensity.

Inside, Tim's jaw tightened as he watched the carefree display. He brought his coffee mug to his lips, taking a deliberate sip as his eyes narrowed. To Tim, this wasn't just harmless fun; it was yet another example of Y/N's irresponsibility, his refusal to take anything seriously. The longer Tim watched, the more his irritation simmered until it became impossible to ignore. He turned away abruptly, setting his mug down on the counter with a little too much force.

Cassie Sandsmark, lounging lazily on the nearby couch with her legs draped over one armrest and her phone in hand, caught the telltale signs of Tim's brewing frustration. She didn't even bother looking up as she spoke. "Okay, Tim. Just say it. You're dying to rant."

Tim shot her a look before pacing a few steps across the room, his agitation evident. "You want to know what drives me crazy, Cassie? That." He jabbed a finger toward the window, where Y/N had just tackled Conner, both of them laughing as they rolled onto the grass.

Cassie arched an eyebrow, finally setting her phone down as her curiosity got the better of her. "What, exactly, is 'that'? Two Kryptonians having fun? Beast Boy living his best animal life? Or the fact that you can't relate to any of it?"

"It's not about the goofing off," Tim snapped, though the sharpness in his voice betrayed him. "It's about Y/N. He's impossible, Cassie. Ever since he joined this team, he's been nothing but a headache. He doesn't follow orders. He doesn't respect plans. He just... does whatever he wants! Like the rest of us are just here to clean up after him."

Cassie leaned forward, her interest piqued. "Come on, Tim. Y/N's not that bad. He's just... spirited. Like you were when you started. And—"

"Don't compare him to me," Tim interrupted, his voice tight with irritation. "When I started, I knew how to follow orders. I wasn't out there flying around, heat vision blazing, acting like I could solve everything on my own."

Cassie tilted her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "No, Tim, you were just dressing up in green tights and trying to keep up with Batman. Totally different."

Tim ignored the jab, continuing his tirade as he gestured toward the window. "Look at Conner. He's Kryptonian too. But do you see him acting like that? No. Conner listens. He works with the team. He doesn't treat this like it's some kind of playground."

Cassie let out a short laugh as she stood, stretching her arms above her head. "Tim, Conner used to wear leather jackets and call himself Superman 2.0. And you think Y/N's cocky?"

Tim rolled his eyes but pressed on, undeterred. "At least Conner's grown up. He's reliable. Y/N? He's all ego. He thinks just because he's Kryptonian, he doesn't have to follow the rules."

Cassie crossed her arms and stepped closer, her tone growing serious. "Or maybe you just don't like him because he's not you, Tim. Y/N challenges you. And let's be honest—you don't like being challenged."

Tim opened his mouth to argue but faltered, his expression darkening as he turned his gaze back to the window. Outside, Y/N had picked up Beast Boy—now in the form of a small, squirming cat—and was holding him aloft while laughing. Conner stood nearby, shaking his head in mock disapproval but clearly enjoying himself.

"I don't know, Cassie," Tim admitted finally, his voice quieter. "He's just... exhausting. A pain."

Cassie's expression softened, and she reached out to clap him on the shoulder. "He's your pain, Tim. And whether you like it or not, he's part of this team now. You'll figure it out. You always do."

With that, she turned and left, leaving Tim alone with his thoughts. His eyes lingered on the scene outside, a mix of frustration and reluctant curiosity swirling in his mind. For all of Y/N's recklessness, there was something about him that Tim couldn't quite dismiss. Whether it was admiration or simply annoyance, Tim wasn't sure. But one thing was certain—this wasn't the last time Y/N would challenge everything Tim thought he knew about leadership.

The Teen Titans gathered in the dimly lit briefing room, the usual buzz of camaraderie replaced by a suffocating tension. Conner had been missing for three days after not returning from a mission. His disappearance felt like a gaping hole in the team's core, but for Tim, it was personal. Conner wasn't just a teammate—he was his best friend, his brother. The loss was a wound, raw and urgent, that spurred Tim into overdrive. He had spent every waking moment combing through leads, piecing together fragments of evidence. Now, he stood before the team, every detail meticulously prepared, determined not to fail.

The holographic display of a sprawling research facility flickered to life above the central console, casting a blue glow over the somber faces of the Titans. Seated around the table, Wonder Girl, Starfire, Beast Boy, Raven, and Y/N studied the image. Each wore expressions of determination laced with unease. Even Starfire's usual warmth seemed dimmed under the weight of the situation.

Tim stood at the head of the table, his posture rigid and his voice steady as he began. "This is where they're holding Conner. A black-site research facility just outside Metropolis. No name, no public record, but the tech they're using? It's advanced. Advanced enough to take down a Kryptonian." His jaw tightened. "We don't have time to figure out who's backing them or why. The only thing that matters is getting Conner back—alive."

He tapped a control panel, and the hologram zoomed in on the facility's layout, revealing a labyrinth of corridors, fortified walls, and clusters of patrol patterns. "I've analyzed their defenses. Armed guards, surveillance drones, motion detectors. They've planned for intrusions, which means they'll be ready for us. But they've also made mistakes." He pointed to a section of the hologram. "These are their weak points. Here's the plan."

The room grew quieter as Tim's voice took on its characteristic precision. "Cassie, Starfire, Beast Boy—you'll approach from the north. Cause a distraction. Loud and chaotic. Make them think it's a full assault." Cassie nodded firmly, her fingers gripping the hilt of her lasso. Starfire's green eyes glimmered with a determined light, and Beast Boy gave a quick thumbs-up, his usual humor replaced by grim resolve.

Tim continued. "Meanwhile, Raven, Y/N, and I will infiltrate from the south wing." He gestured to a series of ventilation shafts and maintenance access points. "This area is less guarded, but not by much. Once inside, we'll head straight for the central lab. That's where they're likely keeping Conner. We regroup there, neutralize any threats, and get him out. Quick, clean, no unnecessary risks."

The team nodded along, their trust in Tim's leadership evident. All except Y/N, who leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his brow furrowed. His instincts, honed by his Kryptonian heritage and countless battles, often clashed with Tim's rigid, calculated strategies. Now was no different. He stared at the hologram, skepticism etched across his face.

Tim noticed and locked eyes with him, his tone sharpening. "And Y/N," he said, his voice cutting through the room, "I need you to follow the plan. Exactly as I've laid it out."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "You don't trust me? Is that it?"

Tim didn't waver, his gaze steady and unyielding. "I trust you to do your job, but your impulses are a liability. This mission isn't about showing off or proving anything. It's about Conner's life. If you deviate, if you act on instinct instead of sticking to the plan, you could put him—and all of us—in danger. Do you understand?"

The room fell silent, the tension between the two palpable. Raven glanced between them, her expression unreadable but her fingers twitching faintly, as if bracing for an argument. Cassie shifted in her seat but said nothing, her eyes fixed on Y/N. Even Beast Boy, usually quick with a quip, seemed to hold his breath.

Y/N's jaw tightened, his pride clearly bruised, but after a long pause, he gave a curt nod. "Fine. I'll follow the plan."

Tim didn't blink, didn't soften. He simply nodded back, turning his attention to the rest of the team. "Good. Then suit up. We leave in an hour."

As the Titans rose from their seats and filed out, Y/N lingered for a moment, his eyes still locked on the hologram of the facility. For all his bravado, a flicker of doubt crossed his face. Not about his abilities—he knew what he could do—but about whether following Tim's plan would be enough to save Conner.

Tim watched him from the corner of his eye but didn't say anything. He turned back to the display, his mind already running through every contingency, every possible failure point. Conner's life depended on this plan. On them. And Tim Drake wasn't about to let anything, or anyone, derail it.

The mission unfolded under the shroud of a moonless night, the Titans moving with practiced precision through the shadows. The air buzzed with tension, every member hyper-focused on their role. At the north entrance, Cassie, Starfire, and Beast Boy launched their diversion with dazzling chaos.

Starfire's energy blasts streaked through the dark like falling stars, each impact erupting in a burst of fiery brilliance that sent guards scrambling. Cassie wielded her golden lasso with an elegance that belied its devastating power, the crackling energy binding and electrocuting adversaries in one swift motion. Meanwhile, Beast Boy transformed into a hulking rhino, his massive form barreling through barricades and scattering enemies like toy soldiers. The cacophony of explosions, shouts, and roaring beasts filled the air, drawing the facility's defenders like moths to a flame.

Miles away, on the south wing, Tim Drake led Y/N and Raven with the precision of a seasoned tactician. Every step was calculated, every movement coordinated. They slipped past surveillance cameras and roving patrols, their presence a ghostly whisper in the heavily guarded corridors. Raven's dark portals shimmered with an otherworldly energy, allowing them to bypass locked doors and heavily reinforced checkpoints. Tim's grappling hook hissed as he secured it to overhead beams, pulling himself up with ease before disabling security systems with a flick of his wrist-mounted device.

Y/N followed close behind, his Kryptonian strength restrained but ready to explode into action at a moment's notice. His senses were on edge, his heightened hearing catching every echo, every distant thrum of machinery. He hated the slow, deliberate pace—every instinct screamed at him to act, to smash through the walls and find Conner. But Tim's voice echoed in his mind: Conner's life is on the line. Recklessness could cost him everything.

Tim paused at a junction, holding up a hand to stop the group. He crouched low, his eyes fixed on the glowing map projected from his wrist-mounted device. "We're close," he whispered. "The central lab is just up ahead. Stay quiet."

Raven nodded, her dark eyes scanning the corridor ahead. Y/N clenched his fists, his impatience mounting. He focused on his breathing, forcing himself to fall in line despite the growing urge to break away.

As they crept forward, a faint sound reached Y/N's ears. He froze mid-step, his head tilting slightly as his enhanced hearing kicked into overdrive. It was a voice—low, muffled, but unmistakable. His heart skipped a beat. He strained to hear more, the sound growing clearer with each passing second. It was Conner. He was sure of it.

Y/N's eyes widened, and he turned sharply toward Tim. "Tim," he whispered, his voice taut with urgency. "I hear him. Conner's down that way." He pointed toward a dimly lit side corridor branching off from their path.

Tim's head snapped toward the corridor, his jaw tightening. "We don't know that for sure," he replied, his tone low but firm. "It could be a trap."

"It's not a trap," Y/N shot back, his voice rising slightly. "I know his voice. It's him."

Tim's expression hardened. "And if it's a recording? A lure? We stick to the plan. The central lab is the target. That's where he's most likely being held."

Y/N's frustration flared, his fists clenching at his sides. "I'm not leaving him behind!" he hissed, his Kryptonian instincts screaming to take action.

"Y/N, stand down," Tim ordered, his voice sharp as steel. "That's an order. We can't afford to—"

But before Tim could finish, Y/N shot down the side corridor in a blur, his Kryptonian speed making it impossible for either Tim or Raven to stop him.

"Y/N!" Tim growled through clenched teeth, activating his comm unit. "Get back here! That's an order!" His voice crackled through the comms, but there was no response.

Raven turned her gaze to Tim, her expression unreadable but her tone calm. "Do we follow?"

Tim exhaled sharply, a storm of anger and worry flashing across his face. "No," he said after a moment, his voice tight. "We stick to the plan. If he's right, we'll find Conner. If he's wrong..." He trailed off, his mind already racing through contingencies.

Raven hesitated but nodded, her dark energy swirling faintly around her hands. "Then let's move. The longer we wait, the worse this gets."

Tim glanced down the now-empty corridor where Y/N had disappeared, his jaw tight with frustration. You better be right, Y/N, he thought grimly. With a sharp motion, he gestured for Raven to follow, leading the way toward the central lab.

Y/N followed the faint sound of Conner's voice through a maze of dimly lit corridors, his heart pounding with urgency. Each muffled syllable drew him closer until he arrived at a heavily secured steel door. Without hesitation, he planted his hands on the edges and pushed. The reinforced metal groaned in protest before screeching open under his Kryptonian strength, shards of broken locks clattering to the floor.

The room beyond was dimly lit, bathed in the eerie glow of fluorescent lights reflecting off sleek, metallic surfaces. At the center of the room lay Conner, strapped to a cold, sterile medical table surrounded by intricate machinery humming ominously. Energy bands glowing with a sickly green light pinned his arms and legs in place, the faint pulsation of their glow sapping him of strength.

Y/N's stomach twisted at the sight of his friend. Conner's usually vibrant complexion was ashen, his chest rising and falling weakly. For a moment, all Y/N felt was raw, unfiltered anger—a burning need to tear apart everything and everyone responsible.

"Conner!" he called, stepping further into the room.

The moment his boots hit the floor, his senses prickled. A chill crawled up his spine as an all-too-familiar voice echoed from the shadows.

"Well, well," the voice drawled, smooth and venomous. "If it isn't Superman's understudy."

Y/N's head snapped toward the corner of the room, and Lex Luthor emerged from the shadows, his sharp suit immaculate and his calculating smirk razor-sharp. In his hand, a small shard of Kryptonite glowed menacingly, its green hue casting ghostly shadows across his face.

"Did you really think you could storm in here unchallenged?" Lex said, his tone dripping with mockery. "You Kryptonians are so predictable. Always so... impulsive."

Y/N gritted his teeth, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The nausea from the Kryptonite's presence gnawed at his insides, but he forced himself to stay focused. His eyes flicked between Conner's prone form and Lex, weighing his options.

"Let him go," Y/N growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Lex's smirk deepened. "Oh, I don't think so. Conner here is... special. A masterpiece, really. A perfect blend of Kryptonian and human DNA. And you? You're just another reckless child playing dress-up."

Y/N didn't wait for Lex to finish. He surged forward, pushing through the Kryptonite's weakening effects as his singular focus honed in on Conner. Reaching the table, he grabbed the glowing restraints and ripped them apart with a burst of raw strength. Sparks flew, and the machinery around him sparked and whined in protest.

"Y/N..." Conner mumbled weakly, his eyelids fluttering open. His voice was hoarse, barely audible. "You shouldn't... be here."

"Save it," Y/N said, gently helping him off the table. "We're getting out of here."

But before they could move, a sharp click echoed through the room. Y/N turned just in time to see Lex pull out a sleek pistol, its barrel glowing faintly green. His eyes widened in realization, but the Kryptonite in his system dulled his reflexes.

Lex fired. The Kryptonite bullet struck Y/N in the side, the pain exploding through his body like liquid fire. He staggered, his knees hitting the floor as a strangled cry escaped his lips. His vision blurred, and every breath felt like shards of glass slicing through his lungs.

"Foolish," Lex sneered, stepping closer, his weapon trained on Y/N's chest. "You Kryptonians are all the same—fragile in the face of real power. And you've made this far too easy."

Y/N fought to stay upright, clutching his side as blood seeped through his fingers. The room spun, but his focus remained on Conner, who was still too weak to fight.

Lex smirked, raising the gun. "Goodbye, boy."

Before he could pull the trigger, a golden blast of energy tore through the air, knocking the weapon from Lex's hand. He stumbled back in shock as the Titans burst into the room.

Starfire's glowing fists lit up the space like twin suns as she launched another energy blast, forcing Lex to retreat further. "Step away from them!" she commanded, her voice ringing with authority.

Wonder Girl charged in next, her lasso of lightning crackling with raw power. "You're done, Luthor!" she shouted, her eyes blazing with determination.

Behind them, Raven's dark magic filled the room, swirling around Y/N and Conner like a protective cocoon. Shadows danced across the walls as she focused her energy on shielding them from further harm.

Lex scowled, his perfect composure cracking. He glanced between the advancing Titans and the exit, weighing his options. "This isn't over," he hissed, retreating toward a hidden door at the far end of the room. With the press of a button on his wrist, a metallic door slid open, and he disappeared into the shadows.

"Coward," Cassie muttered, already turning her attention to Y/N.

The room fell silent except for the hum of dying machinery and Y/N's labored breaths. Tim was the first to reach him, dropping to his knees beside his teammate. Blood pooled around Y/N's side, the Kryptonite bullet still embedded in his flesh. His skin was pale, and his breathing shallow.

"Y/N," Tim said urgently, his voice steadier than the panic in his eyes. "Stay with me. We'll get you out of here."

"I'm fine," Y/N muttered weakly, though the strain in his voice betrayed him. "Get Conner out first."

"Stop talking," Tim snapped, his tone sharper than he intended. He pulled a small medkit from his utility belt, his hands moving with practiced precision. "You're not fine. That bullet is still in you."

Raven knelt beside him, her hands glowing with dark energy. "I can slow the effects," she said calmly, though her expression was tense. "But we need to get him back to the Tower. Fast."

Conner, still leaning heavily on Cassie for support, looked at Y/N with a mix of guilt and gratitude. "Y/N... I'm sorry. I never should've—"

"Don't," Y/N interrupted, forcing a faint smile despite the pain. "You'd do the same for me, Kon."

Tim's jaw tightened as he helped lift Y/N to his feet, his earlier frustration giving way to something softer. "We'll talk about your reckless decisions later," he muttered, his voice quieter now. "Right now, let's get you out of here."

With the team covering their retreat, the Titans made their way out of the facility, battered but victorious. Y/N, barely conscious, leaned on Tim as they moved. For all the annoyance and tension between them, Tim couldn't shake the thought that losing Y/N wasn't an option he was willing to consider. Not now. Not ever.

Tim stood just outside the medbay of Titans Tower, his shoulders stiff and his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his utility belt. He leaned against the wall, his eyes locked on the scene inside. Y/N lay unconscious on the operating table, his normally vibrant complexion pale and lifeless. The faint hum of machinery filled the air, the glow of Kryptonite-removal equipment casting an unsettling green light over the room. Cyborg was hunched over Y/N, his mechanical fingers moving with the kind of precision only he could manage, carefully extracting every trace of the deadly Kryptonite bullet from the Kryptonian's body.

Tim's jaw tightened as he watched, his mind a storm of emotions he couldn't control. Worry. Frustration. Guilt. He was used to pressure, to life-or-death situations, but this felt different. Y/N wasn't just another teammate—he was family. And now, all Tim could do was stand there, helpless, as Cyborg worked to save him.

The sound of footsteps behind him pulled Tim from his spiraling thoughts. He turned to see Conner Kent approaching, still visibly drained from his own ordeal. The usually confident Superboy leaned against the doorway for support, his face etched with guilt and worry.

"How's he doing?" Conner asked, his voice quiet but heavy.

Tim exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Cyborg's got the bullet out, but the Kryptonite poisoned his system. It's going to take time for his body to recover. He's stable... for now." Though Tim's tone was measured, there was no mistaking the tightness in his voice.

Conner's gaze shifted to Y/N, lying motionless on the table. His fists clenched at his sides. "He saved me," he said after a moment, his voice thick with guilt. "If he hadn't come after me... if he hadn't—"

"He shouldn't have had to," Tim interrupted, sharper than he intended. Conner flinched at the words, but Tim didn't stop. "None of this should've happened."

Tim sighed, leaning back against the wall as his anger ebbed, replaced by exhaustion. He crossed his arms, staring down at the floor. "I told him to stick to the plan," he muttered, his voice quieter now. "I begged him to stick to the plan. But no—Y/N being Y/N, he had to go charging in like a hero."

Conner straightened slightly, his guilt replaced by a flicker of defiance. "He is a hero, Tim. He saved me."

Tim looked up, his eyes narrowing. "And he almost got himself killed doing it. Do you even realize how reckless that was? He ran off without backup, straight into a trap set by Lex Luthor! He got lucky this time, Conner. But what about next time? What happens if he doesn't make it out?"

Conner's jaw tightened, his voice low but firm. "You think I wanted him to get hurt for me? I didn't. But he did what he had to do. Just like you would've."

Tim opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself, the words catching in his throat. He stared at Conner, frustration and understanding warring in his expression. Finally, he leaned back against the wall, running a hand over his face.

"He drives me crazy," Tim admitted, his voice softer now. "He's reckless. Impulsive. Half the time it feels like he's actively trying to make me lose my mind. But he's also... brave. He cares about this team, about the people he's fighting for, more than anything else. And yeah, he saved your life tonight. I respect him for that."

Conner's expression softened, and for a moment, the two of them stood in silence, their gazes drawn to Y/N. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors filled the quiet, a small reassurance that their friend was still fighting.

Finally, Cyborg stepped out of the medbay, pulling off his surgical gloves. He looked exhausted but satisfied as he addressed them. "He's gonna be okay," Cyborg said, his voice steady. "I got all the Kryptonite out, and his system's stabilizing. He's not out of the woods yet, but with rest and some time, he'll make a full recovery."

Tim exhaled sharply, relief flooding through him. "Thanks, Vic," he said quietly, his voice carrying more emotion than he intended.

Cyborg nodded, offering them a reassuring smile before heading down the hall. Conner leaned heavily against the doorframe, his shoulders sagging with relief. Tim, meanwhile, stayed rooted in place, his eyes never leaving Y/N.

"You should tell him that," Conner said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Tim glanced at him, frowning. "Tell him what?"

Conner smirked faintly. "All that stuff about respecting him. You know, before you start chewing him out for breaking the plan again."

Tim rolled his eyes, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'll think about it."

They stood there for a moment longer, watching as Y/N's chest rose and fell with steady breaths. The tension that had gripped the Tower for hours was finally beginning to ease, replaced by the quiet strength of their bond. For all their arguments, all the mistakes and risks, they were a team. And in that moment, Tim knew one thing for certain: he'd fight just as hard for Y/N as Y/N had for Conner.

They would get through this. Together.

The past few days had blurred into a haze of recovery for Y/N. After surviving the mission, the Kryptonite wound, and the chaos of Lex Luthor's escape, he was confined to the medbay at Titans Tower. His Kryptonian physiology had worked overtime to heal him, but the lingering effects of Kryptonite poisoning slowed his usual rapid recovery. Every movement sent a dull ache radiating from his side, and exhaustion hung over him like a heavy cloud. He hated feeling vulnerable, trapped in bed while the team moved forward without him.

What Y/N hadn't expected, though, was Tim's constant presence.

Tim wasn't known for his warmth. He was the strategist, the tactician—the one who held the team together with sharp focus and relentless discipline. But since Y/N had stabilized, Tim had been a near-constant fixture in the medbay. Y/N would drift in and out of restless sleep, only to find Tim sitting nearby, flipping through mission reports or scrolling through data on his tablet. At first, Y/N thought it was a coincidence, but by the third day, it was clear: Tim wasn't just checking in; he was hovering.

The morning light filtered dimly through the reinforced windows as Y/N stirred awake, groggy but alert. The soft whoosh of the medbay door opening caught his attention, and he turned his head to see Tim walking in, balancing a tray in one hand and a folder in the other.

"Is that...?" Y/N rasped, his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Chicken noodle soup," Tim replied without missing a beat. He set the tray on the bedside table with a practiced ease, as if he'd done this a hundred times before. "Figured you'd be tired of Raven's herbal remedies by now."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he propped himself up on his elbows, wincing slightly at the motion. "Didn't peg you for the soup-delivery type, Drake."

Tim raised an eyebrow, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "I didn't make it. I'm not a miracle worker," he said, his tone dry. "Picked it up from that diner downtown. Best chicken noodle soup in the city."

Y/N chuckled softly, though the movement made his side throb. "Wow. I didn't know you had a nurturing side. What's next? Tucking me in?"

Tim rolled his eyes but didn't respond to the jab. Instead, he unfolded a napkin and placed it neatly next to the bowl, his movements precise and deliberate. "Eat," he instructed, gesturing toward the tray. "You need to keep your strength up."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, more curious than amused now. "Okay, seriously, what's going on with you? You've been checking on me like clockwork. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it, but... it's a little out of character."

Tim hesitated for a moment, his usual composed demeanor faltering just enough for Y/N to notice. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he met Y/N's gaze. "You almost died," he said bluntly. His voice was even, but the weight behind his words was unmistakable. "And before you give me the 'Kryptonians bounce back' speech, don't. Kryptonite changes everything. We didn't know if you were going to make it, and I—" He stopped himself, glancing away briefly before continuing. "I don't want to go through that again."

Y/N's smirk faded, replaced by a look of quiet surprise. He wasn't used to seeing Tim like this—unguarded. Vulnerable. "Tim, I'm fine," he said, though the words came out softer than he intended. "You don't have to—"

"I'm going to, whether you like it or not," Tim interrupted, his voice firm. "You're not fine yet. And until you are, I'm going to make sure you have what you need. Even if that means... soup."

Y/N studied him for a long moment, the teasing gone from his expression. There was something unspoken in Tim's words, a guilt he hadn't voiced. "You're blaming yourself," Y/N said quietly.

Tim's jaw tightened, and he looked away, staring at the wall as if it held the answers he couldn't give. "If I'd handled the mission better—if I'd planned for Luthor, accounted for the Kryptonite—none of this would've happened."

"That's not on you," Y/N said, his voice firm despite the ache in his side. "I made the choice to go after Conner. Nothing you could've done would've stopped me."

Tim shook his head, frustration flashing across his face. "You shouldn't have had to make that choice. It's my job to keep this team safe, to make sure everyone gets out in one piece. And you—"

"I'm still here," Y/N interrupted, his tone steady. "You did your job, Tim. You got us out. You saved me."

Tim sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as the tension eased. "Doesn't mean I'm not going to make sure you're okay now."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, the sound carrying more warmth than amusement. "You're stubborn, you know that?"

Tim smirked faintly, leaning back in his chair. "Takes one to know one."

The room fell into a comfortable silence. Y/N finally picked up the spoon and took a tentative sip of the soup. It was warm and surprisingly good, a welcome change from the bland nutrient packs he'd been stuck with. He glanced at Tim out of the corner of his eye, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

"You know," Y/N said, his tone light but teasing, "if you keep this up, I might start thinking you actually like me."

Tim scoffed, his smirk widening slightly. "Don't push your luck."

For the rest of the afternoon, Tim stayed by Y/N's side, quietly flipping through mission reports while Y/N finished his soup. It wasn't a grand gesture, and Tim would never make a big deal out of it. But to Y/N, it meant more than words could say. For all of Tim's stoic exterior, his actions spoke volumes. And in that moment, Y/N realized something he hadn't before: Tim Drake cared. In his own stubborn, meticulous way, he cared. And that made all the difference.