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#and i remember last week he said something
Hi I love ur “imgonnagethimback” and I was wondering if I could request a enemies to lovers kind of thing like in that story, the fem slytherin reader and Mattheo riddle secretly love each other, they don’t show it but are flirty to each other and they start fake dating to make one of their ex’s jealous and end up daiting for real in the end like a happy ending
obsessed with ur ex // mattheo riddle x fem slytherin reader
playlist : obsessed - olivia rodrigo
summary : you and mattheo constantly have forced proximity being in the same friendgroup , which you hated just as much as you hate him. so its kinda weird the boy that hates you was so eager to help make your ex boyfriend jealous?
y/n used , slytherin fem reader , swearing, not proof read
thank you for the request! i did my best to fit the whole plot into one part i hope you like it
masterlist
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"blaise are you nearly done with the potions book , everyone else needs to read it too?!" pansy asked impatiently , sitting across from an unbothered blaise in the library.
your whole group had decided to study together in the library , including mattheo -sadly- , meaning the arguements over books and copying eachothers work had been going on for about an hour now.
"no , im not done. pansy." blaise said plainly , knowing it would only annoy the imaptient girl more.
"blaise!-" she started shouting before being cut off by you grabbing her arm and sliding a book towards her.
"panse...we had another copy the whole time." you said quietly , not wanting to recieve her wrath.
"well why didnt you tell me that 5 minutes ago!" pansy seethed as you avoided eye contact .
"yeah y/n , it such a shame you brain isnt as high quality as your looks." mattheo winked at you from across the table as you sneered at him , quickly replacing pansys anger with your own.
"shut up riddle , i am currently holding a very heavy book and i dont think your brain would like if it came hurtling at your head!" you rambled out quickly in anger , only amusing mattheo more as he grinned at you.
you let out a defeated sigh and slouched into your chair , looking away from the boy and at the table across the library that was emtpy a few minutes ago. but not anymore. now two people sat at it - your ex boyfriend cedric and-...CHO?!
you bolted up from your chair upon seeing them , sitting forward and staring with a shocked expression.
"whats wrong baby , you look like youve seen a ghost!" mattheo laughed at you until pansy shot him a glare and put a hand on your shoulder , having seen cedric and cho aswell.
"y/n just ignore him , he was always a shitty guy-was that not obvious?" pansy tried to comfort you , eventhough it had no effect on your shattered heart.
you and cedric broke up last week , and he was already cuddling with cho in the library?! you didnt think it was even possible to move on that fast.
by this point mattheo had turned to peer at what you stared at to , spotting cedric and scowling.
"dickhead." he muttered to himself , lorenzo having heard it smirked at him.
"i-..." you started , "i want to be sad about it but i....still like cedric."
the whole group gaped at you , shocked by your sudden confessions as theodore broke the silence, "how can you still like that thing?! he broke your heart y/n."
"we were together for ages theo , its not something i can get over in a week." you replied , arguing for your emotions.
"yeah well he clearly didnt show any signs of struggle," mattheo scoffed as you glared at him, firey-eyed.
"fuck you riddle! read the room!" you said quickly with anger before getting up out of your seat , scraping it harshly along the floor before running out of the library.
"way to go mattheo mate," lorenzo said , rolling his eyes.
"they were together for 6 months not a fucking century , shes just being dramatic." mattheo argued back with a shrug.
"its different for girls mate." blaise added , suprisingly deciding to defend you rather than joining in on the teasing.
"very different , remember in second year when you cried for weeks over you 2 day ravenclaw boyfriend panse-?" draco started before being cut off by a flushed pansy.
"shut up draco!" she exclaimed as the whole group laughed at her , asides from mattheo who had long since got up and left the library.
----
"sorry." mattheo said quietly to your curled up frame once he found you in an empty corridor , sat on the floor with you head hung low.
"piss off riddle im not in the mood." you muttered , your voice breaking slightly.
there was a short break of silence as mattheo searched his thoughts for what to do in order to help you.
"lets date." mattheo said confindantly , breaking the heavy silence.
you head snapped up at this , allowing him to see your tear stained face and shocked expression look up at him.
"what?!"
"lets date." mattheo said before panicking , "not-not real date! lets fake date make-.....cedric....jealous"
the bitter way he said cedrics name made you cringe as you replayed his words in your head , "youd...do that for me-?"
"yes!" he cut you off with zero hesititation.
you slowly got up from the ground , dusting off your uniform and walking towards an increasingly nervous mattheo riddle, "thank you mattheo. id love to fake date you"
mattheos whole body heated up as you said his name , he was so used to being called 'riddle' , you saying his name felt like a blessing from the great divine.
"y-youre...youre welcome" he stuttered out as you smiled at the boy , a genuine smile.
"wait outside my dorm tomorrow morning , we can walk to breakfast together!" you grinned happily , deciding not to question your own excitement.
-----
"hi mattheo!" you said happily as you stepped out of your dorm , finding the boy nervously stood outside the door.
"hi," he said quietly , avoiding your eye until you grabbed his face and forced him to look at you.
"you need to look at me if you want people to believe us, babe." you said with a smirk as mattheo turned bright red clearing his throat and pulling your hand off his face.
"right - youre right. lets go." he said before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away from you.
"stop!" you called out to him as he sighed and turned back around , waiting as you walked towards him.
once you were finally infront of him, you placed your bag from your shoulder to his , "boyfriends carry their girlfriends bags".
he scoffed , ready to argue back before you grabbed his wrist and pulled a green bracelet out of your pocket , along with a hair tie.
"and they wear matching bracelets!" you grinned as you slipped the accessories onto his wrist and help up your own wrist , showing him the purple bracelet that you also wore , the same as his but just a different colour.
mattheo blushed deeply , staring down at the bracelet and hair tie , "did-..was this cedrics?"
you looked at him , confused and slightly offended , "no? of course not! i made these last night!"
you pointed at your bracelet that had a letter M charm on it , shining brightly and making mattheos icy persona melt to a poodle of chilling love.
"oh-..thanks." he said awkwardly , holding back a smile.
"dont mention it! lets go." you said before intertweining your hand with his and dragging a flustered mattheo down the corridor and towards the great hall.
---
you whole journey to the great hall had been accompanied by whisperes and points towards the two of you , people gasping at your hand in mattheos and your bag on his shoulder.
"i wonder if cedric will notice." you whispered to mattheo as you walked through the doors of the great hall.
you didnt realise that mattheos grip on your hand had tightened after hearing your words , his body stiffening at the sudden memory of what all this was for. you didnt actually like him. and he hated that.
or atleast he didnt think you liked him.
---
"i still can believe it." pansy said as you both laid on your beds , gossiping in your dorm.
its been two weeks of you 'fake dating' mattheo and it had been going well , cedric seems to be acknowledging you more and your whole group had noticed the increased amount of times mattheo smiled a day. and it had increased a lot.
"panse , whats so hard to believe , he offered a way to get cedric jealous and i took it!" you said , matter of factly.
"yeah but why mattheo! i thought you would reject him and do it with like - enzo instead!" pansy rambeled as you turned and looked at her , laughing.
"pansy it isnt that serious!"
"are you sure about that...seriously y/n i never seen you two so happy before..." pansy said softly , confronting you.
you couldnt deny that you were happy ,so happy that it made you realise it was never cedric you deeply cared about. you accepeted mattheos offer because it was mattheo. but you just werent ready to admit that to him yet.
"i-...i think i like mattheo. theres no use denying it to you - you can read me like a book."
"yay! im so glad youve admmited it , now go confess!" pansy squealed , getting up to try and drag you off your bed.
"pansy im in my pajamas and its 11:50pm , it can wait!" you laughed as pansy sighed and let go off your legs , stumbling back to her bed.
"okay fair enough. but you need to confess soon lover girlll!" pansy teased as you giggled and threw a pillow at her.
----
"i like you y/n."
okay a little bit of context.
you were just sat at your table in the great hall ,resting your head on mattheos shoulder when a deep voice from behind you interupted the group. and thats how we got here! with cedric diggory stood infront of you confessing he 'likes you' in front of all your gobsmacked friends. not to mention your furious boyfr- fake. boyfriend..
"what-" you started before being cut off by mattheos lips on yours.
all of your friends gasped loudly as you froze completely , he continued to kiss you softly , giving you time before you eventually kissed back.
it felt like forever had passed by before panys tense voice cut you and mattheo apart, "guys hes gone please - PLEASE STOP!"
you both quickly moved back , your eyes awkwardly scanning you friends, landing on pansy who covered her eyes and looked down with disgust.
"well thats put me off my food." draco stated , dropping his fork with frustration as you turned bright red.
you turned to mattheo , who only looked at you, searching your expression for a single glimpse of happiness about the kiss. just when he thought he wouldnt find it you abtruptly stood from the table and ran out of the hall , to the nearest abandoned corridor.
you paced back and forth replaying what had happened until the loud sound of running distracted you , mattheo running to stand infront of you and stop your pace.
"y/n-" he started before you cut ihm off , finally making eye contact.
"why would you do that mattheo?!" you asked in pure confusion.
"i know i know- the whole point was to get diggory to like you and i blew it - im so sorry-" he stuttered.
"i love you!" you shouted over him.
the long break of silence that followed nearly made you burst into tears of humiliation.
your realisation for the love you held for mattheo came on the night you talked with pansy , you asumed he liked you back but the tense atmosphere you currently stood in made you heart break with every passing minute.
"i love you too...i-i love you so much and i have for ages-" he started before being cut off by your lips harshly on his again, the kiss holding more passion and meaning than the last.
after a while you pulled away and wrapped your arm around his neck ,smiling up at the flushed boy.
"it was never really about diggory , i was upset sure; but i only accepted your offer because i- i wanted to date you" you whispered with hot cheeks as mattheo smiled down at you adoringly.
"good because im yours," you both laughed lightly as he brushed a hand through your hair, "be my real girlfriends y/n y/l/n?"
"i thought youd never ask!"
a/n : this is lowkey kinda ass sorry LMAO
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meazalykov · 23 hours
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cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater
barcelona femeni x uswnt!reader
warnings: mentions of betrayal, tiny bit of angst, insecurities
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Y/N L/n, an American forward on the Barcelona team had fire in her eyes when she stepped foot on the catalan pitch. 
Leaving behind her life in the States to pursue her dreams in Barcelona was a sacrifice that she didn’t regret. The goals, her skills, and passion increased for football as she got the privilege to play for one of the best women’s clubs in the world. Y/n flourished in Barcelona. But despite her success on the field, her personal life was rocky.
When she left Gotham FC to play for the Catalan club, y/n left behind her boyfriend, Leon. The couple were distraught at the news but y/n promised to visit Leon during international breaks and holidays. At first, she was able to facetime her lover everyday. Guilt plastered on her features during the call sometimes, remembering that the long-distance was because of her decisions, but y/n knew that her career came first. 
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Y/N's heart was shattered when she stumbled upon the tweets above which revealed a painful truth: her boyfriend, Leon, had betrayed her trust. The news hit her like a thunderbolt, leaving her reeling with disbelief and heartache. She couldn’t believe it. Not her sweet Leon? Sometimes she trusted the boy more than she could trust herself. 
Without hesitation, she blocked Leon on everything before he had the chance to defend himself. Instagram, Imessage, twitter, facebook, you name it. Y/n was disgusted and couldn’t believe that Leon would betray her, no excuses would make her forgive him. 
The 21 year old girl hated two things. She hated feeling betrayed, and she hated vulnerability. The first one happened to her and she didn’t want to have anybody pity her about what happened. Yes, her two year relationship was flushed down the toilet but she tried her best to forget about it. 
Determined to keep her emotions hidden, Y/N threw herself into her training everyday with even more fire, pushing herself to the limit with every sprint and every launch with her foot that sent the ball behind the nets. However, some of her teammates noticed the change in her demeanor, the way she buried her pain beneath a facade of strength. 
“Y/n what are you doing?” Alexia called out across the grassy pitch. It was 5 in the evening and training ended for the team an hour before. The captain of the team, Alexia, noticed y/n’s familiar gym bag still in the locker room after everyone went home. Observing the younger girl who was dribbling the yellow colored ball with her ivory-colored cleats, she closed the huge space between them and saw the sadness in y/n’s eyes. 
“Oh hi Ale! I'm just training for the game next week. I have to be prepared, you know?” Y/n chuckled to herself. The smile on her face went away when she noticed that Alexia wasn’t laughing with her. 
“You’ve been training for the last three hours. You need rest most importantly.” Alexia said as she looked at y/n’s soft facial features. Something was clearly wrong with the younger adult, but she wouldn’t pester her about the problem until she absolutely needed to. 
“I know. Can I please have 10 more minutes then i will-” 
“No! you need rest. come on” Alexia kicked the ball away from y/n’s feet before holding her arm gently, pulling her into the locker room so y/n would stop overworking herself. 
A week later, at the peak of her game against Eibar, y/n had scored two goals by the time halftime arrived. She's on fire and the crowd was chanting her on for a potential hat-trick. But as the game progresses, so does y/n's exhaustion.
In the 50th minute, she pushes herself a bit too far as she passed the ball towards Mariona. Falling to the ground, her vision goes black for a few seconds before pain shoots up in her lower back. Y/n hisses at the pain as she holds onto her back. Everyone around her knows that she is injured.
"Y/n? What's wrong?" As soon as the girl heard Alexia's feet run up to her and ask that question, y/n relaxes her face and stands up ignoring the pain in her back.
"Nothing, it was just a blow." Y/n looks at Alexia and Patri who stands beside her. The Spanish girls look at each other with a uncertain look before Alexia looks over and yells at their coach Jona, "está lesionada, no puede seguir jugando"
Y/n didn't know much Spanish but she had an understanding on what's happening when she notices her teammate, Esmee, stand up from the bench and start to warm up.
"Ale, I'm okay I promise!" Y/n cries.
"Y/n, we know you're not. Its okay--- You did a great job before this." Patri tries to calm Y/n down.
"You cannot play with a bad back. You aren't playing until the medic clears you!" Alexia gives y/n a stern look.
Despite y/n's protests that she's fine, her coach and teammates, including captain Alexia, are adamant about getting her off the field. Everyone noticed how overworked she was. Some figured out why through social media, others still didn't have a clue.
Y/N is frustrated, not just because of her injury, but because it's a painful reminder of the emotional turmoil she's been going through since her ex-boyfriend's betrayal weeks before. She tried to forget about it but every time she scored a goal, she wished that he was there to congratulate her afterwards.
Each goal reminded her how good she is. After Leon cheated on her with a Washington Spirit winger, she wondered if she was as good as the winger is. Everyone in the soccer world knew that Y/n was miles ahead of the DC player, but insecurities plagued the girl's mind.
Alone in the nurse's room, Y/N lets her tears flow. It's not just the pain of the injury; it's the weight of everything else she's been carrying. The nurse came in and assumed that the crying came from the pain from the girl's back, but y/n had to clarify that it was emotional.
Luckily, another doctor said that her back pain was caused from stress and nothing serious. However, she couldn't play for a few weeks so she could wind down and heal with massage appointments.
Y/n was relieved but felt torn at the idea of not playing until the new year. How is she supposed to occupy her mind from Leon?
An hour later, Y/n heard the door open which revealed Alexia, Ingrid, Esmee, and Frido. All of them entered with hesitation, hoping that Y/n wouldn't kick them out. All of them could see through her facade. They know something deeper was bothering her.
"Hi (reader's nickname), how are you feeling?" Ingrid spoke with a soft voice, sitting beside y/n on the bed as she pulled a piece of hair behind her small ear.
"I'm fine, how was the game?" y/n asked. All of the girls, except for her, look over at Esmee with a smile.
"This girl over here subbed on for you and got a hat-trick. we won 5-0 because of you and her." Frido said. Y/n smiles brightly (for the first time in days) as she looked at her best friend with a shy smile.
"No way! Great job Es!" Y/n hugged the dutch.
"Thank you." Es responded.
"Y/n--- what did the doctor say when she came in?" Alexia spoke up, changing the conversation.
"The doctor said I'll be out for 2-3 weeks." Y/n said. Alexia's eyebrows knitted as she sat beside y/n, opposite side of where Ingrid sat.
"Why?" Alexia asked as she wrapped her arm around Y/n's shoulders.
"She suspects that I've been overworking myself, which is what caused my back blow. I have to go to physical therapy for massage treatments until I am better." Y/n spoke.
"Will you be able to go on international break?" Frido asked as she pulled one of the metal chairs in the room by the bed, she sat down looking at y/n with a sympathetic look. Y/n's eyebrows raised as she realized she had an upcoming friendly with the USWNT.
"I don't think so." Y/n responded.
"Look, we care about you a lot y/n. We've noticed how much you've been overworking yourself. This has never been an issue before, is there something wrong?" Ingrid asked. Everyone noticed the dry tears on her dimpled cheeks, but they didn't want to force the girl to talk.
"Um- I-" Y/n tried to speak before looking at Esmee, who sat at the foot of the bed. The dutch woman looked at Y/n with an urging look. She scrolls online outside of football and came across the source to what might've been hurting her best friend the last few weeks.
"(reader's nickname), is this about Leon?" Esmee spoke up. Y/n flinched at the sound of his name before biting her lip. The older women raised their eyebrows with questions in their minds.
"Yes." Y/n answered before a tear came down her right eye. Alexia wiped it with her thumb before holding the younger girl tightly.
"Niña, did something happen between you and him?" Alexia asks. The blonde never tries to intervene with the team's personal lives, but as a captain it is necessary when moments like this happen. Ale had an idea on who "Leon" was but she didn't know him personally.
"He um--" Y/n coughed. She realized she couldn't say it without breaking down, so she looks at Esmee with permission to speak for her.
"From my understanding, Leon cheated on y/n and started dating one of her old teammates in America." Esmee looked over at Y/n, hoping she explained the situation right. Y/n nodded her head, slowly, showing that Esmee explained the situation perfectly.
"When did this happen?" Frido asked.
"It happened two weeks ago." Y/n whispered. Alexia felt guilty at this news, she knew something was wrong but didn't understand how bad the situation is.
"I'm so sorry sweetheart.. Why didn't you tell us this happened?" Ingrid holds onto y/n's right side and Alexia held onto her left. Y/n started to cry again, realizing she could've avoided her injury if she spoke up about her problems.
"I didn't want to burden you guys with my problems." Y/n responded.
"You're not a burden. We might be your teammates but we are your sisters too. That Leon guy is an asshole and what he did is on him, not on you." Frido spoke as she held y/n's knee.
"Exactly. You're one of the best wingers and what he did to you wasn't because of your performance on the pitch. He is insecure and you deserve better." Ingrid said.
"You can come to us with any problems you have. Or you can come to me if it's personal. You're not alone." Alexia placed her chin on top of y/n's head, still holding onto her.
"I know--- but football was my escape from him. It's not that I didn't trust you guys, but I just didn't want to deal with what happened. As long as I played football and trained, my mind wasn't on him. That's why I've been overplaying." Y/n, in a vulnerable state, spoke up about her mindset on the situation.
"We love you y/n, you'll feel better about this and someday you won't even remember that jerk's name." Esmee spoke up. Y/n giggled at the shy girls statement.
As y/n embraced the comfort from her teammates, she begins to see that her healing now wasn't just physical—it's emotional too. And with her team by her side, she knows she'll come back stronger, both on and off the pitch.
<3
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vizslasaber · 3 days
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FRIENDLY FIRE ──── i.
summary: after landing on the umbaran surface, you butt heads with your fellow general—but get along swimmingly with your temporary clone captain.
pairing: captain rex x female jedi!reader
word count: 3.9k
warnings: combat/action, mentions of injury + death, krell being a bitch, reader with a name instead of y/n because i hate it
a/n: it’s back!!! previously i posted this series on my main, @brrmian, but i changed that blog’s username and have mostly shifted over to fanart and general SW content. i’ve decided to dedicate this new side blog’s content entirely to fic writing under my old username, posting reader insert on here and everything else on ao3! this fic will be updated sparsely but definitely more often than it was on my main. i’ve changed a few things regarding the plot of this series specifically, and i like it a lot more now!!
series masterlist | click here to add or remove yourself from the taglist!
You hadn’t wanted to leave the Temple behind—you still don’t, even lightyears away from the Core.
When the Jedi Council had first made you aware of the plan to have you and a Master you’d never met capture an Umbaran airbase with troops that were not your own, you had put up something of a fight. What right, you demanded, did the Chancellor have the right to simply pull a Jedi from their sacred duty for a trivial air-to-ground assault?
The Council had either not wanted to answer this question or had not known how to, so now you stand on a transport gunship with two clone troopers and an intimidatingly tall Besalisk Jedi Master by the name of Pong Krell. Both of you are holding onto the grab handles hanging from the ceiling; you’re gripping the handle so tightly your knuckles are slightly pale, but Krell looks perfectly steady.
Of course he is, you think bitterly. He has four arms.
The atmosphere of Umbara is breathable but strangely thick—fog seeps through the blast door openings, and the lights inside the gunship’s passenger bay seem to have dimmed. Your lightsabers bump against your hips and you wince slightly as sounds of frantic gunfire reach your ears.
This will be your first campaign.
You have seen death before, on missions as a Padawan before the war—but never on this scale, if the reports of your already-knighted friends from the Temple are anything to go by. You only hope that you will be assigned your own battalion soon, so you don’t have to go running around replacing wayward Generals.
It’s hard, standing at the side of an imposing Master, not to feel like a Padawan. The skin behind your right ear burns with the memory of the braid that had been there just last week, waiting to be sheared off as you prepared for your ascension to Knighthood.
While your battalion assignment is pending, Master Windu told you as you stood in the center of the Council Chamber, the Senate has requested that we send two Jedi Knights to replace Skywalker on Umbara.
Master Krell is already on-world, assisting Master Kenobi, but he will need another Jedi’s help if he and the 501st are to take the capital in Skywalker’s stead, Master Plo explained, his hologram flickering as he called in from some faraway world.
All due respect, Masters, you remember asking as you willed yourself not to tremble, but why me? I’ve never been anywhere near the front. I wouldn’t be much help.
Believe in your potential, we do, Master Yoda said. An opportunity for you to do good, the Force has given you.
And that, it was decided, was that.
Even now, after meditating on your anxiety for practically the entire journey through hyperspace, your nerves feel impossibly frayed. The transport jostles, but you only sway slightly, arm already holding onto an overhead handle for balance. There’s a shiny new military-issue commlink attached to your right vambrace. A morbid thought, of calling in a medevac for injured soldiers with this very communicator, crosses your mind—but you let it dissipate.
The gunship suddenly makes a sharp dive, and your stomach swoops—you must be about to land. You spare a glance at General Krell, who has now let go of the grab handles and has crossed all four of his arms over his chest. For a moment, you’re almost tempted to ask how he manages to stay so balanced while the ship is moving, but then the blast doors slide open and the gunship lands in shadowy darkness.
The first person you see is Anakin Skywalker. He’s around your age, maybe a bit younger—despite having been knighted several years earlier, as one of the first Padawan victims of the Jedi Military Integration Act. Your Master, ever traditional even when the Order began to stray from its centuries-old teachings, did her best to keep you apprenticed for as long as possible, but even that eventually proved futile.
In the end, you and Anakin are practically of the same age, and yet he has infinite more experience than you. Uncertainty wheedles its way into your chest and slips a pin into your lungs; you’re holding your breath as you follow Krell off the gunship.
Being far shorter than the Besalisk, you have to jump down. When you hit the ground, you shiver at the misty atmosphere, watching as bioluminescent specks of dust fly up underneath your boots.
As the two of you approach, you hear the troopers of the 501st legion mutter amongst themselves, but you push it aside and focus on the pleasantries.
“General Krell. General Neridian,” Anakin says, smiling graciously. “My thanks for the air support.”
“Indeed, General Skywalker,” Krell replies, bowing politely. “The locals have proven to be more resourceful than we anticipated.”
“We managed to get here in one piece, though,” you add jokingly, and Anakin smirks, his eyes twinkling. You gesture to the troopers unloading the gunship behind you. “And we brought ration resupplies.”
Anakin nods appreciatively, then raises one eyebrow after a moment, looking slightly confused. “But—that’s not the reason for your visit.”
“No,” Krell admits. “The Council has ordered you back to Coruscant, effective immediately.”
“What?” Skywalker demands. “Wh-why?”
“The Chancellor...” you pause, searching for a word, before you settle on, “insisted that you return. The Council had no say on the matter.”
“That is all they would tell us,” Krell adds, though he doesn’t sound displeased.
“Well, I—I can’t just leave my men!” Anakin protests, and for the first time you notice the trooper standing at attention beside him.
He’s identical to all the clones you’ve met, of course, except for one detail—his hair is blond. You wonder vaguely if it would be polite to ask him whether or not it’s natural as you survey his armor. The pauldron on his left shoulder indicates a position of command, but he carries a sense of individuality in the Force that, despite your inexperience with working with them, you’ve come to realize every clone has. His helmet is painted with a distinctly Mandalorian sigil, but it’s not one you recognize.
His gaze is pointed directly ahead; he makes no eye contact with you. Probably just as annoyed at the change of plans as Anakin is, you realize.
Krell moves to speak, jolting you from your thoughts. You recognize Anakin’s agitation, however, so you calmly move to intercept.
“The Council would not just leave your troopers to fend for themselves—not that they aren’t perfectly capable of doing so, of course,” you add, which merits the barest hint of a smile from the trooper standing beside Anakin. “It’s just… well, the Senate needs a Jedi to be at the head of every campaign, and I guess they figured subtracting one of you would mean—”
“—adding two other Jedi,” Anakin says with a snort of derision. “Yeah… sounds like the Senate. But you guys’ll probably get it done faster anyway.”
“Don’t worry about a thing, sir,” interjects the trooper, and Anakin looks to him. “We’ll have this city under control by the time you’re back.”
“Generals, this is Captain Rex, my first in command,” Anakin says fondly, and you see something like pride show itself in Rex’s eyes. “You won’t find a finer or more loyal trooper anywhere.”
“I don’t doubt it,” you affirm earnestly.
“Yes, that is good to hear,” Krell agrees, then places a large hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I wish you well, Skywalker.”
Anakin simply nods at him, then stops beside you and says, “I hear you passed the Trials.”
You gesture to your hair, now void of a Padawan braid. “Apparently so,” you reply. “Funny, I didn’t think you were one to get swept into the rumour mill.”
A grin, boyish and bright, springs to Anakin’s face. “Nah, I’m always one for good gossip.” His expression turns softer, then, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously, though… congratulations.”
“Thank you,” you say, but he’s already approaching the gunship and taking hold of one of the grab handles. The ship is off within seconds, and you can’t help but feel apprehensive as it flies away, up into the fog.
Taking a moment to gather yourself, you turn to Rex and offer a polite nod. He returns it, then says, “It is an honour to be serving with you, Generals.”
“The honour is all mine,” you return graciously, and Rex looks like he’s about to say something else, but stops when Krell begins to speak.
“I find it very interesting, Captain, that you are able to recognize the value of honour,” he begins, then—almost as an afterthought—adds, “for a clone.”
Silence.
Your eyebrows shoot up, and as Rex stares at Krell in shock, you feel your armored chest tighten—with frustration or shock, you don’t yet know.
“Stand at attention when I address you,” Krell snaps, turning to face the other troopers, and as Rex obliges, you narrow your eyes and step forward.
“Master Krell,” you start, your jaw tightening, “I do believe it would be far more... prudent to show respect to the soldiers who have so graciously agreed to undertake this mission with us.” You tilt your head questioningly, sending your ponytail swaying. “After all—we are the ones who just arrived.”
A ripple of white-hot anger moves through the Force with lightning speed, but it’s gone before you can take time to process it. Now, all you can feel is something akin to gratitude, trickling like a cool waterfall from where Rex stands, back straight and eyes ahead.
“They agreed to nothing,” Krell counters, and you blink as his wide upper lip curls back to reveal a row of dangerously sharp teeth. “Do not forget, young one, that we are the Generals they serve under at present.”
“I...” you pause, momentarily at a loss for words, then clasp your hands behind your back and force your jaw to unclench. “I haven’t forgotten that. But I also haven’t forgotten that the only way to succeed in this endeavour is to work together.”
“And with what experience do you so kindly bestow this advice upon us, Knight Neridian?” Krell asks, and the question is like a bucket of ice water down the back of your robes.
You swallow, and search for the words to say, but none come. Cheeks burning with shame, you stare determinedly at the ground.
The tension in Krell’s Force signature disappears, as sudden as the crack of a whip, and he draws in a deep breath. You look up as the pouch-like piece of flesh under Krell’s chin grows in size and he begins to pace.
“Nevertheless,” Krell brushes off, acting as though none of your words register with him, “there’s a reason my command is so effective, and it’s because I do things by the book.” He walks past a soldier in an ARC Trooper uniform who has the number five tattooed on his right temple. The trooper doesn’t move as Krell passes him, but you can see a vein on his forehead bulge.
“And that includes protocol,” Krell puts in. He turns to you. “Have all platoons ready to move out immediately.”
You bristle. “I—I thought we were to make decisions together,” you protest, raising your chin defiantly.
Technically, there’s nothing to defy, seeing as you hold equal rank with Krell—but the Council specified in their briefing that this was supposed to be a learning experience, an introduction to combat before receiving your own battalion. And something about Master Krell demands respect, or at the very least obedience, despite the fact that you’re starting to want to do everything you can not to give it to him.
Krell simply huffs and turns around, his yellow eyes flashing, and walks away, leaving you surrounded by a platoon troopers.
You frown after him. “Well, now I know why Master Venn wished me good luck,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. Some of the troopers snicker, but you hardly notice.
Your former master, Esya Venn, had pulled you aside just before leaving. The look on her face had been nothing short of concerned, but you’d shrugged it off in the moment, even when she’d told you to be careful, Padawan. She never told anyone to be careful—it was simply a reflex to think twice about your actions around Esya.
But now you understand.
Scrubbing a hand over your tired face, you take a deep breath and turn to Captain Rex. “Shall we set off?” you ask, and he nods, promptly putting on his helmet.
“Move out, soldiers!” he shouts, starting down the path after Krell. “Come on, let’s go!”
You give Rex a grateful smile, and though you can’t see his face, you know he’s returning it. With one last glance at the battalion, you hurry to the front and fall into step next to General Krell.
It’s silent for some time. Krell doesn’t deter, no matter how dark it gets, and after a while you begin to grow uncomfortable next to him. The anger you’d felt in the Force earlier is dormant, but certainly there, and it makes chills erupt down your spine.
"I’m going to check on the Captain,” you say, and Krell only nods when you turn around and quickly find Rex, who’s walking about two meters behind where you previously were.
The Captain salutes briefly. “General.”
“Captain,” you reply politely, before glancing back at Krell. “I can’t help but notice that there’s—” you pause for a moment. Do these troopers know enough about the Force to have conversations with you about it?
Knowing Anakin, you realize, they probably do, so you clear your throat and continue. “I get a strange feeling from Master Krell,” you say quietly.
Rex’s shoulders relax just slightly. “How so, sir?”
You bite your lip and shake your head. “I don’t know, exactly,” you reply, then gesture vaguely in front of you, where Krell is half-visible in the murky fog. “The Force around him is unclear. It’s... hard to explain.”
“Hard to explain, as in it’s a Jedi thing?” Rex guesses, and you grin widely.
“Yes,” you say. “It’s a Jedi thing.” Reaching up, you curl a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“I may not be a Jedi, sir,” Rex says after a moment, “but I think I know what you mean by strange feeling.”
“Quicken that pace, battalion!” Krell suddenly shouts over his shoulder, and you jump. “This isn’t some training course on Kamino.”
You sigh and raise your voice, turning to the troopers. “What General Krell means,” you call, pointedly shooting a glare at the Besalik’s back, “is that we must continue to make good time. Keep up the good work.”
Krell gives no answer, but you feel a ripple of frustration coming from his direction. There’s another thread in the Force, one of gratitude, but you can’t tell where exactly it’s coming from. You latch onto it nonetheless and file the feeling away for later, letting yourself make an easy pace just ahead of Rex.
“He certainly has a way with words,” you hear one of the clones say, and when you glance behind you out of the corner of your eye, you can see that the source is someone with similar armor to Rex’s. Another ARC, or someone of similar rank.
There’s a sigh. You think it’s from Rex. The troopers obviously don’t know you’re listening, so you direct your gaze ahead, keeping your pace steady.
“He’s just trying to keep us on schedule,” Rex explains, voice hushed and sounding a bit sheepish.
"By raising everyone’s ire?” the other trooper grumbles.
“Either way, he’s in charge,” Rex protests. “And we’ve got a job to do.”
“She’s in charge, too,” hisses the trooper, and you purse your lips, knowing he’s pointing to you.
Another sigh, again from Rex. “Just—treat them both with respect, and we’ll all get along fine.”
You’re about to turn around when your neck stiffens. It’s an instinctual reaction, like the Force tapping you on the shoulder—one that you’ve learned to interpret as a warning. Less than a second later, a loud screech echoes above your head.
“Ready your weapons!” Rex shouts, at the same moment you draw one lightsaber.
Faster than your eyes can process, a winged creature swoops down and grabs a trooper—but you don’t need your eyes. The cyan beam of your lightsaber casts a glow on the shadowy ground, and you jump upwards, landing on a large plant that allows you to swing from a vine and graze the blade across the wing of one of the creatures. It falls to the ground with another screech before flying away, relatively unharmed.
One to go.
You’re about to grab hold of a second vine and swing towards the other creature, but a flash of blurred blue and green makes you pull back—Krell beats you to it, landing on top of the creature and wrestling it to the ground.
“Wait—stop!” you shout as he draws his lightsabers, but it’s too late. He’s already skewered the creature mercilessly, and it lies dead on the ground, life blinking out of the Force in an instant.
You jump off of the large plant, landing on both feet, and hook your now deactivated lightsaber onto your belt. “Why did you kill it?” you demand, pushing past several onlooking clones.
“It is nothing more than a violent inhabitant of this area,” Krell dismisses, and you feel your jaw drop.
“But…” you start, at a loss for words. “The Code decrees—”
“The Code,” Krell says coldly as he turns to stare at you, “allows for self defense.”
You draw yourself up to your full height, switching off your lightsaber with a snap-hiss before hooking it back onto your belt. “That’s not what—”
Krell’s lightsabers deactivate loudly, cutting you off, and he returns them to either side of his belt before turning away and continuing on the path. “Anyone else want to stop and play with the animals?”
No one answers, but you feel your fists clench as if of their own accord.
This is going to be a long night.
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Umbara’s plant life is fascinating. Observing the bioluminescent life forms is the only thing that serves a proper distraction from both the grumbling clone troopers and the pit of apprehension in your stomach. You’d been walking for twelve hours, give or take, and every time you’d tried to suggest a break to Krell, he’d snapped at you.
This can’t be allowed, you think bitterly, skipping over a glowing pink tree root, boots skidding on the dark purple ground.
You chew on your bottom lip and glance at the clones behind you. They are understandably worn out, and even with the extensive survival training Master Esya drilled into you as a Padawan, you were starting to get tired, too.
“Sir,” says a voice from behind you, and you jump, expecting in your exhaustion to see Krell—but it’s just Rex.
“We’ve been keeping this pace for almost half a rotation,” Rex points out, sounding vaguely nervous. “The men are... starting to tire. General Krell is...” he tilts his head, expressionless visor unreadable. “You know.”
You muster a smile, hoping you look at least a little like Master Enya, and nod.
“I know, Captain,” you say, and he shifts slightly, as though his blue-painted pauldron is uncomfortable. You can’t blame him. Running a hand over your ponytail, you blow out a breath and frown at the puff of air that appears in front of you. “Let me talk to him. Tell the men to start searching for a good spot to camp for a few hours.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Rex giving an affirmative thumbs up to the troopers behind him, but by then you’re already approaching Krell, clasping your hands tightly behind your back.
“Master Krell,” you start, and Krell turns his head just a bit. “I’ve told the men to scout for a place to rest. I reviewed the mission plan on the way here, and we can spare three hours without being delayed, possibly more—”
“The men don’t need rest,” Krell interrupts, and you feel your cheeks flush with anger. “They need resolve to complete the task at hand.”
“Apologies, Master,” you say, squaring your shoulders as frustration heats your neck and face. You breathe deeply. There is no emotion, only peace. “But I don’t think the men will be on their best game when we reach the capital if they don’t take some time to gather themselves.”
“That they need to ‘gather themselves’ is a sign of weakness,” Krell cuts in, stopping and turning to face you with a sneer. “That is not what these clones were bred for.”
Not far away, many of the soldiers bristle at Krell’s choice of words, but you keep your focus on the yellow eyes staring you down for the second time that night.
“They weren’t bred to be mindless droids, either,” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest and making sure to keep your voice even. “And in case you’ve forgotten, even battle droids need to recharge. If we march on the Capital without any sort of break first, I promise you, this mission will not go as planned. Exhausted and underfed soldiers are a guaranteed disadvantage.”
Krell studies you, a sneer forming on his lips. “I see you take after your Master’s incessant need to get the last word on anyone she disagrees with.”
You scowl. “I beg your pardon, but Master Venn is—”
He ignores you, cutting past where you stand and walking away. “Do what you wish, Neridian,” he dismisses, then walks away to stand by a glowing tree.
A sigh escapes your lips, and you close your eyes. It’s becoming harder and harder not to snap at him—but you know what the Order’s teachings require of you. Emotion, yet peace.
You grimace as Krell retreats to the back of the line, then turn back to the troopers nearby and give Rex a nod. The captain returns it in what you hope is a grateful manner, then calls for the men to make camp at the top of the ridge your group has been climbing.
By the time you gather all the troopers together, the battalion has put together a hasty campsite, with half the troopers having fallen into a fitful sleep and the other half keeping watch while eating as many rations as the limit allows. You frown and approach the trooper you heard Rex talking to earlier, his Force signature familiar from when you were eavesdropping. His helmet is now sitting in his lap, being meticulously cleaned with what little supplies the battalion has on hand.
You study the soldier. He has a tattoo on his right temple, and upon studying it, you realize it’s the same ARC trooper who’d been glaring at Krell when you stepped off the gunship. You wonder what significance the number five has to him.
Taking another step forward, you clear your throat. “Trooper,” you begin, and the soldier looks up curiously before abruptly shooting to his feet and snapping off a salute. You wave a nonchalant hand. “No need for that. I only wanted to ask a favor—can you gather troopers to stand watch? Six at a time, tops, and make sure they take turns so everyone can rest. That includes you.”
“You got it, sir,” says the trooper, and you smile.
“Sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name...” you say, then, and the trooper blinks.
“Oh, uh—it’s Fives, sir.”
“I see,” you reply, gaze flickering to his tattoo and back again. “Thank you, Fives.”
You retreat to your own tent soon after, shrugging off your vambraces and arranging them neatly next to your bedroll. This wouldn’t be the shortest sleep cycle you’d had, what with the nature of your apprenticeship at the temple—but not the longest, either.
From what you can hear inside your tent, the camp is silent. Slowly, you poke your head through the canvas flaps to find exactly six men—as you’d requested—sitting in the center of camp. Farther away, at the outskirts of the circle of tents, sits Master Krell’s hulking form. In spite of yourself, you frown.
“General?” asks a sudden voice above you; letting out an involuntary yelp, you scramble backwards before stopping at the sight of Rex standing near the entrance to your tent.
Embarrassed, you stand up, brushing off your cream-coloured robes. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I could swear I’m not usually so jumpy, I don’t know what—” you look up and stop short.
Rex has removed his helmet.
His blond hair isn’t a surprise this time around, but close up, you’re struck by how tired he looks. There are smile lines at the corners of his eyes, but his face is cast in exhausted shadows.
You wonder if a full night’s sleep is something he’s ever had, or if the training regiments on Kamino prepared him and his brothers for this kind of halfhearted sleep cycle. Curiously, you study him.
Rex’s eyes are golden-brown in the dying light of this shadowy planet. They’re the same shade as all the troopers in the immediate vicinity. And yet, as you stare into them, something in you stirs as your Force signature brushes against his—something you know you’re not supposed to feel.
“Er, General,” Rex repeats, jolting you from your faraway thoughts. “I just wanted to let you know—the scouts are detecting a clear journey from here on out. We have approximately four hours to kick back, as predicted.”
Hurriedly, you turn away and clear your throat awkwardly. “Very good, Captain,” you mumble. “Thank you. You’re—erm, free to go and rest.”
For a moment, Rex looks surprised, but he composes himself seconds later. “Thank you, General,” he says. “But I—”
“Not up for debate,” you interrupt, holding your hand up. Bemused, Rex blinks, so you shoot him a reassuring smile. “You said it yourself: the soldiers need rest. You’re a soldier, yes?”
Rex opens his mouth, probably to say something about him being a Captain, but you lower your hand to rest it on his shoulder. The kind gesture seems to quell him, so you continue. “Don’t exclude yourself in that. Rest well, Captain.”
When you turn and reenter your tent, you don’t catch the way Rex’s eyes linger on the closed flap for far longer than they should, heat prickling up his neck as the remnant of your touch burns itself through his pauldron.
“You too… General.”
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mikobeautifulheart · 2 days
Text
JJK men when you accidently cut yourself (but they didn't know)
TW: little mentions of blood but not alot, a little bit of angst. And unedited.
INCLUDING: YUJI AND Megumi
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-Yuji-
"I'm back" Yuji said, dragging his feet along the floor.
It's been a busy week for both of you. So busy that Yuji dosent even remember the last time you've even had a proper conversation.
To hell with the shower he thought standing over your plesantly sleeping form calmly breathing. Slowly he kicked his shoes off to the side and slipped his uniform jacket off and laid down on the bed next to you.
You let out a small groan as you felt the bed shift and slowly came out of your sleep.
"Yuji..." You mumbled.
"Yeah" He said tiredly.
You sighed in relife that he was finally back
Yuji slowly it his arm around your side before noticing how damp the blanket on you was. He took just arm off and switched on the bed side light making you put your head under the pillow.
At first Yuji just thought he was tiered but then he blinked again to see that it was real, the blanket was soaked in blood.
"Y/n? Y/N? Wake up" he pulled the blanket off you to see a blood soaked bandage on your arm.
Right away he had the first adi kit and helped you sit up on the edge of the bed.
"Sorry Yuji, didn't mean to panic you, it's the last thing you need right now." You sighed putting your other arm up to your face to shield tour eyes from the light.
"I can't believe you weren't going to tell me! Y/n if your injured you need to see Shoko or at least go to a hospital" He said making sure to not apply the bandage to tight or to lose.
"You've been working all week and and youre exhausted to, Yuji look at your hands, youuve got little cuts on them, you should at least put a band-aid on them." You frowned
"Your the one to talk, with a losey bandaged cut arm. And no matter what happens I'm always putting you first." He said finally finishing up.
" Tommorow morning I'm taking you to Shoko." He said before throwing g the blanket in the wash and getting new ones.
That night he woke up every few hours to check your arm and to see if he might accidently touch it before carefully moving his arm away from it.
-Megumi-
You pushed your dorm door open and stumbled into the room, one hand clutching your side and the other practically dragging you around. You managed to take off one of your shoes before looking behind you to see your boyfried lazily dressed.
"y/n? Are you okay?" He walked over and crouched down infront of you, starting to untie your other shoe.
As soon as he carefully took it off you shot up and tried to stumble away from him.
"Wait, y/n is something wrong?" He asked, arms put streached to grab you.
"I'm grea-" you tripped over your own foot while trying to escape Megumi.
"-T" you hissed you felt Megumis arm wrapped around you, saving you from the fall.
Your breaths became fast as he slowly (practically carried you) to the couch.
You gasped for air as soon as you sat down.
"Y/N? What's going on??" Megumi asked concerned with your behaviour.
You moved your arm away from you side, shooting pain through your body when the pressure was released.
"You were right Megumi, I'm weak, I wasn't strong enough and now I have a gaping hole on my body." Tears welled up. You weren't sure if it was from the pain or the feeling of being to weak.
Within a second Megumi had you comfortably sat up on the couch while working his way round round your wound, cleaning it with cotton.
"I never said you were weak y/n, because your not. I said if you keep working yourself to much with out resting you'll become weaker, we all have our limits." He put the cotton down and started to wrap the bandage around your torso.
You looked down the other way feeling guilty that he had to deal with your mistake..your mess.
"I'm sorry" you said
"Don't be. You shouldn't be sorry. At the end of the day you helped people and your still alive, just be more careful okay?" He finished bandaging you before kissing it gently.
THANK YOU FOR READING ♡
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AUTHOURS NOTE: Tehehe need to get back into writing so send some requests.
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LISTENN HEAR ME OUT!! So all of the imagines where reader/oc come back from the capitol they are like up and ready to roll but can you write something where reader comes back from the capitol and doesnt wake up for a few days?? finnick is there when she wakes up?? fluff at its finest 🤌 ps i will love you forever!! also its been in the back of my mind for forever
your heard, immediately as soon as I got a chance I wrote this little fluff for you, if you want a part two just request again. love your idea<3
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃 ☀︎ 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼 ⋆。˚ 𓆞 𓆉𓆝𓇼𓆟 𖦹°‧𓆝𓆡𓆜
FINDING EACHOTHER (again)
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a/n: ALSO. I AM SO SORRY IF ITS TERRIBLE. I literally just read the first half of mockingjay. (and sorry if it's not what you meant, just request again if this isn't what you meant, but I think you mean like reader wakes up in district thirteen)
warnings: fluff, mentions of passing out (don't know if it's considered passing out, but there's your warning.)
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆。˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★
It was all a blur, a haze. The last thing you remembered was the Quarter Quell. Being spilt up, waking up in the Capitol, slipping in and out of weekly sleeps, it was all too much to bare.
Well it doesn't matter anymore, your in district thirteen now, sleeping. You can make out conversations from Haymitch and nurses, or Finnick begging Haymitch not to give up on you, that your body needed 'rest', which wasn’t a lie, at that.
It was a whole week—a week. You were asleep, nothing new right? Except as your eyes peeled open you saw Finnick, that was new. Definitely new. Your first thought was scratched out as Finnick nearly jumped out of his seat, "y/n, y/n-" he grabbed your hand, intertwining it with his. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't protect you from the Capitol, in the arena, even."
"Finn-" you said softly, you voice cracking "I missed you, and no- it's fine, you tried your best." You laced your fingers over his knuckles, refusing to let go, scared if you would let go you would wake up, and this would've just been a dream.
He forced a small smile, "At least I begged Haymitch not to give up, eh?" Finnick pressed his lips against your forehead "Should I go get you your nurse or no?" The monitors around you were steadily beeping, Finnick's voice was as smooth as honey, soothing your nerves.
The urge to rip your IV out to jump into his arms were so surreal. “No. Just you.” You whispered, gripping his hand tighter. “Don’t let go, promise?” You blurted out, leaning towards him.
“Promise, never again.” Finnick pressed his forehead against yours, noses touching, the urge to kiss, breaths hitching, “I love you.”
“Me too.” You whispered back, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you were safe, with Finnick—even though you didn’t know where you where yet.
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phoebepheebsphibs · 4 hours
Text
Double-Mutated Mikey
Chapter 19: Pathology
Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club
Prev || Next
Mikey wakes up to the sound of shouting and yelling.
"Oh, no.... oh no... oh no, oh no, oh nonononono...! Why today? This couldn't have happened like, last week, or maybe next month?!"
Mikey wonders what could be so upsetting to Leo. There's the sound of rushing back and forth, people shouting and whining and acting all terrified. He watches from his room as people keep running past his door.
A figure stops in his doorway -- Leo, by the smell and voice -- and flicks on the lights while yelling worriedly. The lights blind him momentarily as his vision switches from heat-seeking to binocular.
"Mikey! We gotta get you somewhere safe, bud..."
"Why?" he croaks.
Mikey doesn't even have to get out of the hammock before Leo scoops him up -- blankets and all -- and starts running with him.
"Dad's sick with rat flu!"
"Huh?"
"You don't remember rat flu?" Leo asks, looking down at Mikey as he runs. "Well, uh... it's this whole thing, it would take too long to explain. Basically, he gets a really bad cold and has weird symptoms. We don't wanna risk you getting infected just yet, so I'm having you bunker down in Dee's lab."
Mikey isn't sure what is going on, but everyone seems frantic. Leo drops him off in the lab, where Casey is also hiding out.
"Are you sure we'll be safe in here?" Casey asks, watching as Mikey is gently set down on the floor, blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.
"Probably... Splinter will be more focused on us than you, so all should be well... Have you ever seen rat flu, Casey?"
"A few times, though I don't remember much," Casey says with a shrug. "It happened mostly when I was a toddler, and before we had to eat Master Splinter."
"Okay, well, there's the seven stages -- wait, what?"
Leo shakes his head and holds up his hands.
"Nevermind, forget I asked, moving past, I don't ever want to know that story..."
"It was the apocalypse, we were running low on food, and his last wishes were--"
"But back to the rat flu!" Leo interrupts loudly, "Splinter will be going through the full seven stages, and those are way too chaotic for Mikey to be caught up in just yet. Besides, we don't know how well he's going to react to the flu if he should get contaminated by the germs. It's safest to just keep him in preemptive quarantine for now..."
"Alright, so what's first?" Casey asks, sitting next to Mikey.
Mikey shuffles just a bit away from him, eyeing Casey's hands nervously as his brother explains.
"First stage is fever, which -- oh man, I totally forgot about that..."
"What?" Mikey asks, concerned for why Leo is getting so bent out of shape. "What wrong?"
"Dad's first symptom is he gets overheated from the fever, so he cranks the AC all the way up," Leo groans, rushing out and shouting to the others. "Raph! I need blankets and a heater, stat!"
"Cold?" Mikey asks nervously.
"Yup, very cold. But we'll be prepared, don't worry," Leo says, as Raph rushes in with a stack of quilts and a heater.
"Will this be enough?" Raphael asks, handing half of the stack to the leader.
"I think so... Casey, there's a hoodie here, you should bundle up too," Leo says, throwing the oversized shirt at the future boy while Raph wraps Mikey up like a burrito.
"Danger?" Mikey asks nervously, watching Raph.
"No, there's no danger, it's just crazy and confusing," Raph reassures him.
Mikey can smell the fear. He can hear the nervous twinge in his voice. He can see the wrinkles on his head forming.
But Mikey trusts them. They may be scared, but they will help.
Mikey snuggles into the quilts and hums. Leo and Casey set up the heater before the two brothers leave the room.
"Casey knows how to work the door, so if anything goes wrong, he'll open it up, okay? But unless you hear one of us say something, keep this door locked for now."
"Leo safe? Raph safe?" Mikey asks.
"Sure! Like I said, it's just a flu."
Leo hands a communicator to Casey before he winks at Mikey, his smile strained and thin. The doors close with a hiss and a click, bolting from the inside out.
Mikey and Casey sit quietly as they wait.
Soon enough the air seems to chill, and their breaths can be seen as fog in the room. Mikey squirms in discomfort, pulling the blankets closer. Casey starts to shiver.
The communicator beeps, and Leo's voice chimes in.
"Stage one is in progress. You guys okay?"
"We're f-f-fine," Casey chatters. "K-k-keep us upd-d-dated."
"Will do."
The line clicks, and the two sit in silence.
Mikey shivers. The blankets help, but he can still feel the frigid chill of the air through the sheets. It doesn't hurt yet, but it is uncomfortable. The floor is ice under him. He tucks the quilts under his feet and legs as he tries to insulate himself better. He looks over to see Casey suffering by the heater. Mikey chirps at him to get his attention.
"Sh-sh-share?" he asks.
Casey looks Mikey up and down before nodding. Mikey hops over and opens his fortress, a gush of icey air whooshing in and stabbing his unprotected legs. He gasps and hisses through his teeth as Casey slides in and helps wrap the blankets around them again.
"The shared body heat will h-help," he says, his shivers shaking him to the core. "Thanks. I-I-I didn't think you l-liked m-m-me anymore..."
Mikey frowns.
"M-Mikey not h-hate Casey..."
He slinks into his shell a bit more.
"...Mikey s-s-scared of Casey..."
"Scared?" Casey stares wide at Mikey. "Why?"
"Mikey... not r-r-rem-member-r Casey. But Cas-s-sey human, humans scare Mikey," he whimpers.
Mikey hides his face under the blanket. Or maybe he's just trying to keep warm.
"Humans mean. Hate Mikey. Hurt Mikey. Mikey scared a lot... Mikey scared."
Casey sighs.
"I guess that makes sense. I-If I'm honest, I'd probably be scared of humans t-t-too..." He wraps his arms around the bundle. "But I'm glad you told me. I thought you just hated me!"
Mikey huffs, a shivering chuckle.
"Mikey th-th-thought C-Casey hate Mikey!"
"What? Why?"
"C-C-Casey-y look s-sad," Mikey explains. "Casey look sad at brothers, too. Casey l-look s-scared of Mikey..." Mikey sighs at the last sentence. "Mikey scares brothers. Mikey see. Mikey scary."
"You're n-not scary!" Casey lies. "We're just... concerned for your health. You went through a lot of injury, and we weren't there to help you. That's what scares us."
Mikey peeks up at him. CJ gently presses his head against Mikey's.
"We... we were so terrified, Mikey. You have no idea how happy I was to see you back... last week without you was a nightmare. I've never seen Leo so scared, and I saw him sacrifice everything to send me--"
He clears his throat.
"Uhm... getting off-topic. What I-I'm trying to say is... we're not scared of you, we're scared for you."
Mikey gives him a shy smile. He knows that Casey is lying. He can smell it. But Casey doesn't want to hurt him. Mikey purrs, nuzzling Casey's shoulder. CJ chuckles and pulls Mikey closer.
A moment later, the communicator beeps again.
"Stage two! Repeat, stage two, wild rat man! Donnie has been compromised!"
Casey pulls his wrist up to his face and leans in.
"What's going on out there?!"
"Donnie got pancaked by Splinter, he's quarantined now."
The boys hear a feral squeal over the comm lines, and both eyes go wide.
"S-S-Splinter-r-r?" Mikey asks.
"RUN!" a shout over the comms comes in. "Raph, this way, this way!!"
"W-w-ait, if Splinter's past the f-f-fever s-stage, then why is-s it still s-s-so c-c-c-cold-d-d???" Casey chatters.
"I told you, Donnie got quarantined! He hasn't rebooted the AC yet, and we're on a whole new system now so-- OH WAIT NO LOOK OUT!!"
There's a scuffle and a shuffle heard over the comms, and the two boys listen in intense silence. After a moment, Leo comes back onto the comms.
"Okay, we're good. Close call. How're you two holding up in there?"
"Cold," Mikey complains.
"We'll get to work on resetting the AC. Raph got Donnie's S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 to lead Splinter away for the moment... I think we're in the clear..."
Several minutes pass by. Mikey and Casey sit in the lab, cold and waiting. Ten minutes go by. Fifteen.
Mikey's body starts jerking, seizing, convulsing. The pain starts to set in, his body can't handle the low temperature. He gasps, a sharp stabbing sensation in his chest that aches and spreads across his body. He doubles over, clutching his chest with one hand and gripping the blankets with the other.
Casey pulls him closer. Mikey is pressed against his chest, he can CJ's his heart beating. He focuses on that.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Casey pulls the comms up again.
"Guys, what's the holdup? Mikey's starting to--"
The lights go out. The heater shuts down. The door hisses and a loud click echoes in the room. Mikey yelps and hugs Casey.
"That's... not good...."
The comms click.
"Ah! Ninja supreme! Stage four!!"
"What happened to stage three?!" Casey shouts. "What have you been doing this whole time?! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?!"
"He's in the vents!" Raph shouts through the mic.
Mikey hears scratching and scurrying from above. Mikey makes a quick sound, a yelping chirp to warn Casey, before Splinter suddenly descends from the ceiling vents and lands with a smoke bomb on the floor. Mikey and Casey scramble in opposite directions.
The blankets fall off of Mikey's shoulders. He whines in pain, holding himself tight as the cold causes his body to go rigid like he's been frozen solid.
His tail jerks, curling around him in snapping movements, like he's a disc been scratched too many times and it keeps freezing and playing one moment at a time. It's agony, it's killing him, Mikey can't breathe anymore... his lungs feel like they're collapsing inside of him, his bones turn seize up and go stiff in place, his head is buzzing with pins and needles, and his limbs feel like freezer-burn.
Splinter -- in his full ninja garb -- crouches over Mikey and touches his shoulder, inspecting him. Mikey winces, the meager warmth from his father's hand burns against the ice that is his scaly skin. Casey shouts out Mikey's name, and Splinter dashes away into the darkness.
Casey rushes over to Mikey, checking him for injuries.
"Mikey? Mikey!! Michelangelo!! Oh no, oh no... can you hear me?"
Mikey tries to lift his head up to talk to him. He can barely move it, it feels stiff and it hurts to turn his neck. He manages to move his eyes to look up at Casey. He opens his mouth, trying to force out words, a croak, a whimper, anything. All he can manage is a ragged and laboured breath, a gasp for air as he writhes without moving.
"I'm gonna get the guys, I'm gonna get you warm, just stay with me!"
Mikey loses all feeling in his limbs. His tail stops moving. His torso goes numb before it too becomes lost in static. Mikey turns some kind of ghost, and nothing can touch him anymore, and nothing hurts anymore. His ears start ringing, a stuffy distortion that blocks out most sounds. Casey Jr. is two feet away from him, but his voice is far far away. Time slows down, an tormenting eternity that is all of three seconds long.
"Stay with me, Mikey! Stay... stay..."
Everything goes dark. Mikey's eyes slip shut.
He exhales softly.
He doesn't inhale.
.
.
.
"We have to find some way to keep him in line!" Dr. Timothy shouts. "Otherwise, he'll be running rampant throughout the labs!"
"Dr. Chaplin is working on a device that can control--"
"I know what he's working on, Abigail," he interrupts. "But that device won't be ready for quite some time, and we need something now!"
"Then, perhaps we turn to biology?" she offers.
"How do you mean?"
"This specimen has several different species genetic code integrated into his DNA. Perhaps we can find some weakness within the genetics to use against him, should the necessity arise."
"Hm... that could work. Nothing lethal, of course, just uncomfortable for him. Did you have anything specific in mind?"
Mikey watches from his cage as the two scientists look over a series of codes before turning back to look at him.
"Could work..." Timothy mumbles.
"We'll never know unless we try," Abigail replies.
Mikey watches as the two walk out for a moment before coming back in, wearing thick jackets. Timothy turns the air down. Mikey is confused until he starts to jerk slightly. What's... what's happening to him? Why does the air hurt?? Timothy watches him start to shiver and convulse.
"I was right," Dr. Abigail Finn says with a sly smile. "The three reptile DNA mixings have caused a severe reaction to brumation. His system goes into shock."
"Let's see how much he can handle," Timothy chuckles before grabbing a fire extinguisher and soaking Mikey in a cold foam.
"What are you doing?!" Abigail asks, moving away from him.
"Conducting an experiment, of course."
Mikey screams in pain before toppling over. It burns with how cold it is.
"We'll have to weaponize this," Dr. Timothy laughs. "Should be simple enough to concoct a device that can create cold gusts of air... I'll have Honeycutt get to work on the designs..."
Mikey shivers, drowning in the icy cold pain...
.
.
.
Mikey's consciousness slowly thaws. It's still dark... his body is still numb and lost... but there's... sound...
"...Mikey... poor guy... should be getting warmer..."
"...didn't mean to, I tried..."
"...not your fault, Pops, just what happens..."
"...should have done better... it's been hours... is he okay?"
"...brumation...body slows down... he'll be fine..."
"...getting a pulse, he's breathing again...!"
"Mikey? Can you hear us?"
Mikey moans, the first part of his body he can (sort of) control. He hasn't been this tired since... since... some time ago. The first mutation. Not that he really remembers much of it...
Mikey's eyes softly open. Light shines in. His whole family is here. Casey is here. Everyone is watching over him. When did they all get here? Where has Mikey been in this absence of consciousness?
Uggh, he feels awful.
Leo comes into view.
"Heyyyyyy, mi hermano. Can you hear me?"
Mikey nods weakly. At least, he thinks he does. He still can't sense much. The feeling comes in slowly, soft prickling and paresthesia. The first thing he feels is extreme heat and shaking. He's shivering. Still? But it's so hot...
Hot... but... he likes the warmth... so why is this unbearable?
Mikey moans again. His head is swimming. His breathing heavy, it's hard to get the air into his lungs. Mikey squirms, sweat breaking out across his brow and under his arms as he shakes.
"Mmnghh... Mikey no... feel... good..."
Leo presses the back of his hand against Mikey's head. It's not cold, but against the feverish heat emanating from Mikey, it's heavenly chilled. Leo winces, his brow furrows in concern.
"You're burning up... Dad, when you broke into Dee's lab, did you touch Mikey? Do you think you might have infected him?"
Splinter's eyes widen as he realizes.
"Oh... I think I might have..."
"So, is Mikey sick now?" Raph asks. "He's got rat flu, too?"
"Why is it just hitting him now, when he was infected hours ago?" Casey asks.
Hours...? Mikey's been a ghost for hours...?
"I'm guessing the brumation put Mikey's body into a sort of stasis. All body functions stopped until he thawed out," Donnie explains. "Brumation causes reptile like turtles, snakes, and lizards (all of which Mikey has the DNA of) to go into a sort of hibernation when it gets too cold. They slow down to an extreme, and might even stop breathing, but they won't die."
Mikey writhes on the bed. His tail thrashes, almost whipping Leo in the leg. Whatever is happening to him now, whether it's a side effect of brumation or whatever fever he caught from Splinter, he hates it.
Leo watches Mikey in concern.
"So, uh... no problem, no issue. We'll just take care of him while he gets over rat flu..."
"But who's gonna take care of him?" Raph asks.
"Uh...Donnie's the only one who got infected this year, and he already went through the symptoms, so he should be immune now..." Leo looks over to his twin. "Do you think you could play nursemaid?"
"You mean take over your job?" he asks snidely. "Of course. I mean, I've already lost a lot of work time on the anti-mutagen, so I might as well..."
Donnie sighs with exasperation as he taps his wrist tech, creating a checklist for the seven stages and supplies he'll need.
"Okay... so this will be interesting to see unfold. Stage 1 is fever, but Mikey's reaction to the low temperatures prohibits anything cold coming into contact with him. Any suggestions, Leo?"
"Give him lots of water, and ibuprofen. We can try to bring down his fever with warmer waters, but I'm not sure if that would help..."
"Copy that. Next stage is wild rat man... or in this case, wild Mikey. That should be fun," Donnie says, the last sentence a soft grumbling whisper. "With Mikey's animal instincts, everyone needs to be on alert. We don't know how he'll react..."
As Donnie continues to explain the seven stages again, Mikey lets himself crumble into a short-lived sleep while he waits for the rest of his body to wake up.
Stage 1: FEVER
Mikey hates this.
Every part of him aches, a dull but everlasting ache. He is constantly shifting between the heat of the sun and below freezing.
He can never get comfortable, he keeps kicking the blankets off as his fever causes delirium and slight nausea.
Donnie does what he can, having him drink as much water as possible while dabbing his face with a wet cloth. But it's all too cold, even if it's lukewarm. Against the burning inferno of his fever, it's practically glacial.
Mikey weeps at the torment his body is putting itself through. Donnie works in silence until Mikey makes some sort of rambling beg for him to talk so he knows that he's still in the room. Between the aches and the delerium, he can't always tell...
Donnie talks about his latest tech design. He talks about S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 and the upgrades he made in Mikey's absence. He talks about some of the studies he's been making into genetic mutations and modifications to the DNA and... he sounds upset. He stops talking about that and moves on to a new subject. He talks about botany or something.
Mikey groans in agony and mumbles something... not even he knows what he's saying... Donnie presses his hand to Mikey's sweat-soaked head. He grimaces at the wetness, but sighs with relief.
"I think your fever is starting to break... that's a good sign--"
"Gggggggrrrhhhh..."
"...Mikey?"
Mikey's eyes squeeze shut as he groans, grumbles, growls...
His eyes snap open, the pupils shrink into thin lines that immediately lock onto Donnie. He snarls, his teeth elongating into sharp fangs.
"...Oh banana pancakes," Donnie says flatly as he starts to get up.
Stage 2: FERAL MIKEY.
Leo and Raph are eating lunch with casey, having ordered a pizza and subs due to the day's earlier havoc. Leo plays with the pineapple and ham toppings as he frets over Mikey.
"Dude," Raph scolds, pointing at the slice going cold. "Just eat it already, or put it back in the box."
"Do you think he's doing okay?" Leo asks. "I mean, I know it's only a flu, but after everything that's happened to him already, I'm just worried what this will do to him, I mean, we have no idea how shot his immune system is already from his captivity and malnutrition, and then coupled with the mutations--"
"Leo," Raph says in between bites of his footlong. "You need to chill. I'm freaking out too, but that's not going to do any good. Donnie's got this for now, if he needs any help then he'll let us know--"
"HELP!!"
"...I think he just let us know."
The trio run out to find Dee being chased by a wild Mikey, his tail spiked and quills raised, his eyes glowing bright yellow with blood red as he chases after Donnie, snarling all along the way. Mikey slithers up the walls and ceiling, perching above them all, his head and neck twisting around as he watches them somewhat creepily.
"Oh dang," Leo says, pointing. "That's terrifying. I'm not alone on this, right? That's some 'The Ring' bone-cracking-bending-in-odd-ways type of scary?"
"Not the time, Nardo," Donnie grumbles.
"What's 'The Ring'?" Casey asks.
Mikey snarls loudly, analyzing who to attack first. His eyes stop on Raph and his sandwich.
"Uh-oh," the eldest whispers.
Mikey jumps down from the ceiling, roaring as he pounces down at his brothers. Raph shrieks in terror as he throws the sandwich at his feral brother. Mikey grabs the sub in his mouth and starts to attack it viciously, ripping it apart with his teeth and fangs, shaking it all around as he kills it dead.
"Uh, we start running now, right?" Casey asks.
"Yes. We run now."
The four make a mad dash down the hall, running into the garage and locking the door behind them.
"That... that was terrifying," Leo gasps. "I didn't know he could be that scary... was he like that when you found him?"
Leo turns to look at Raph and Donnie, who pant as they lean against the shell hogs for balance.
"Uh... more or less," Raph admits. "He was lucid when I found him, but once the other experiments were released he went kinda savage and attacked them to protect me."
"He also bit you."
Raph rubs over the spot on his wrist that Mikey punctured. It's healing fast, thanks to Draxum's genetic-whatever-he-did-to-them when they were babies. But the thought of Mikey's face when he came to and saw what he'd done... that hurt much more than any bite.
He hopes to pizza supreme that Mikey won't remember anything from the fever... poor kid probably couldn't handle it...
There's a pounding against the door.
"Agh!" Leo jumps as the loud noise echoes through the garage. "Don't let him in! The door's going to hold, right?"
"But of course!" Donnie says with a nervous chuckle. "I restructured everything after the invasion. Not even a krang could break down that door. The only thing that could get it open is --"
'Hamato Family Override Accepted,' a computer voice sounds.
"...is if someone with the code unlocks the door," Donnie moans.
The doors open slowly, revealing Splinter, standing in the doorway with an irritated expression on his face.
"Boys," he says in his scolding voice. "would you care to explain to me why you left your brother in the state he's in?"
"We had to!" Leo says, hiding behind Raph. "He was going to rip off an arm or something!"
"What are you talking about?" Splinter asks, stepping aside to reveal a very flushed Mikey with a sad expression on his face, eyes wet and pupils so wide they engulf the majority of his eyes.
Mikey sees his brothers and starts crying with joy as he rushes towards them, sloppily landing on Raph's feet and hugging his legs tightly.
"Rrrrraaaaappphiiieee!" he sings, rubbing his cheek against his big brother's ankles. "Miiikeeeeyyyy loveesss youuu..."
Stage 3: CAPTAIN CUDDLECAKES
Raph stares down in shock, frozen still for fear of what else Mikey might do. But Mikey just looks up and him with grabby hands as he cries for affection.
"Pickkkk me uuuup, Raphhiieee.... hold me, please, Raaaaaaphhie..."
"Uh... okay..." he says with hesitance, kneeling down and gently tucking his hands under Mikey's arms as he hoists him up.
Mikey's body is limp like a noodle, swaying back and forth as Raph holds him at arm's length. Mikey's face is bright red from fever, his smile dopey, his eyes half-opened and unfocused, his head lolls rom side to side. He giggles lazily, holding onto Raph's hands and slowly pulling himself closer to him, sort of crawling-slash-climbing across his arms to get to his chest.
"Raaaaaphieee.... I love Raphie... I loves him sooooooo muchesss..."
"Is... is he okay?" Leo asks, a quick giggle escaping him.
"Delirium," Donnie says knowingly with a nod. "He's delirious."
"Are you sure?" Casey asks.
"I'm an ice cream kitty," Mikey says dopily, giggling as he wraps himself over Raph's shoulders. "I'm a cat called Klunk..."
"Pretty sure," Donnie answers flatly.
"He's really cuddly," Raph chuckles, rubbing his hand over Mikey's burning head.
Mikey hums with contentment as he continues to wrap under Raphael's chin, back over the shoulders, and around his neck again...
"Uh, Mikey?" Raph gasps, as Mikey's torso and tail starting to tighten around his throat and choke him. "Mike-- that's too tight, buddy -- Mikey -- gack!!"
Donnie and Leo rush forward and try to loosen Mikey from around his brother. Mikey whines at them, tiredly slapping them away as he nuzzles Raph's face, which is starting to turn blue.
"Boa instincts," Donnie diagnoses as he tries to get Mikey to let go. "Come on, Michael, let go, let go, let -- nggh -- go!"
"Stahp pullin'!" Raph chokes out. "Gettin' tight--!"
"He won't release!" Donnie grumbles. "I don't think he understands what he's doing! It's his animal traits taking over..."
Leo's eyes brighten as he gets an idea. He starts scritching and scratching around Mikey's neck, looking for a specific spot. Mikey starts to giggle, shoulders hunching up and tail loosening. Leo gets to a spot just under the jaw on his right side and scratches. Mikey's eyes pop as he falls into Leo's hold with a mad cackle, legs kicking as he jerks back and forth from giggles. Raph gasps for air and collapses to his knees as he clutches his throat.
Mikey wiggles out of Leo's hold and onto the floor as he continues to laugh himself silly from the special spot Leo found.
"H-how... cough cough... how'd ya know that would work?" Raph hacks.
"I didn't," Leo confesses with a shrug. "I thought he'd faint like in 'How To Train Your Dragon' or something."
Mikey's laughter starts to calm, and he relaxes against the floor, deep sighs of relief as his brothers talk over him.
"I think it's safe to assume that his flu is causing his animal attributes to take over," Donnie informs. "Which isn't good news for the next stage..."
Stage 4: NINJA HUNTER SUPREME
"It's okay," Casey says, trying to calm the room. "I-I'm sure it will be fine, all we have to do is keep an eye on him aaaaaand we lost him," he groans, looking down to where Mikey had been a second ago.
"Alright, nobody panic! We're fine, we're fine, we're--"
"Achoo!" Raph sneezes.
"Welp, Raph's infected now, we need to quarantine him," Donnie groans. "Who could have seen this coming, he said sarcastically."
"I'm okay, I can just -- Achooie!"
"Yeah no," Leo scolds as he helps lead Raph to the door. "You're getting into bed. We're all sticking together too, so everyone be on the lookout for you-know-who..."
The group slowly but surely trudge towards the traincars on the other side of the lair, stopping at every doorway to inspect the rooms for Mikey. He's nowhere to be seen... and that's terrifying.
Just before they get to Raph's room, Donnie's wrist tech beeps at him. One of the motion sensors has gone off.
"Wait a sec," Donnie whispers, tapping the security footage. "I think Mikey might be in the sewer tunnels..."
"What?" Leo whispers back. "Why would he go all the way out there?"
"I'm not sure, but if he gets lost --"
"I'll go after him," Leo answers. "You guys watch Raph and help quarantine him for now before the fever sets in too bad."
Leon grabs his swords and runs to the exits. Casey watches him nervously as he helps Donnie maneuver the former leader into his bedroom as the fever starts to take effect.
As soon as Leo gets to the tunnels, he gets the eerie feeling he's being watched. He's not sure where the sensation is coming from, but three years of being a ninja vigilante and 16 years of living in secrecy under the surface of the greatest city ever has trained him to hone in on these gut feelings and sixth senses. There is someone... or something watching him.
It's unnerving.
He steps into the tunnels and looks both ways. No sign of Mikey. He takes out his comm and leans into the speaker to whisper.
"Hey Don, which way did he go?"
"*Krrsh* I don't know, I didn't see on the recording. I just saw a notif that something set off the perimeter alert. Over. *Krsh*"
Leo doesn't like this. Maybe Mikey never actually left the lair. Maybe this was all... a trap.
Leo's ninja senses tell him to be careful. He turns around quickly and looks up. Mikey is staring down at him from the ceiling.
He drops down like a spider, crashing down onto Leo, who shouts in terror as he opens a portal just beneath his feet. The two fall through, one after the other. Leo portals them back to the traincars, shouting for backup as he runs away while Mikey regains his footing and inspects the new area.
"FOUND HIM! I FOUND HIM! HELP!"
Casey and Donnie jump into the hall quickly, brandishing weapons on instinct. Casey and Donnie jump into the hall quickly, brandishing weapons on instinct.
Leo frantically scrapes his katanas across the floor as he runs away, creating a series of portals that surround Mikey. The feral mutant boy falls through one and pops out in a random place, three other portals boxing him in.
"There," Leon pants. "That should keep him busy for now..."
Mikey sniffs one of the portals, and his eyes widen. He steps through, following his nose and navigating perfectly through each portal, gaining speed with every step until he arrives from behind the trapped trio.
"Or not..." Leo swallows.
Mikey growls, licking his teeth as he stalks them, getting ready to leap in three... two... one...
Mikey pounces on Leo, gripping the handle of one katana between his set jaws and yanking it out of Leo's grip. He clutches onto his brother's shoulders, pinning him down as he tries to rip the second sword away.
"AAGH!!!" Leo screams, kicking wildly as Mikey snarls and drools all over him and his weapon. "GET IT OFF! GET THIS THING OFF OF ME--!!"
Donnie activates his hover-shell and directs it to attach to Mikey, lifting him up and carrying him away. But Mikey still clings tightly to Leo, who is struggling against his brother's death grip on his shoulders. Mikey's nails dig in tight, making Leo cry out in pain.
Casey jumps up and catches on Leo's feet, pulling him loose from Mikey's hold. Mikey is flown away, screeching in anger as the hover-shell turns a corner and disappears with its passenger.
"Sensei-- Leo, are you okay?" Casey asks, eyeing the claw marks with concern.
"I-I'm f-fine," Leo manages, his breath shaky and eyes wide but lost. "I... I'll be okay... I... achoo!"
"Welp, we've lost another brother," Donnie sighs as he carries Leo to his room. "I estimate that we have at least five more minutes before Mikey comes back in a new stage. Casey, you go to my lab and lock yourself in there. Reboot the security system and put the whole lair on a lockdown. We can't risk Mikey escaping, got it?"
Casey nods nervously before rushing away.
Donnie helps Leo get into bed as the fever already starts to set in.
"H-he... he really got me, huh...? Woof, why is it so hot in here???" Leo mumbles as he topples into the bed. "Why is the room spinning so much?? I don't remember booking tickets to the tilt-n'-whirl..."
"I'll get the fan going for you," Donnie mutters.
"I... I feel bad..."
"You'll feel better in a minute--"
"I called him a thing."
Donnie pauses as he looks back at Leo, who's starting to cry softly as he hugs his pillow.
"I was just scared. I'd never seen him so angry or vicious. Not even against the krang... he looked like he really was gonna kill me..."
"He wouldn't," Donnie reassures him flatly. "Mikey would never do that."
"Do you think he hates me now?" Leo whimpers. "Do you think he heard me? He'll remember that? I don't actually think of him like that, I... I don't think he's a monster, I don't... gawd, why is it so hot in here?!"
Donnie rolls his eyes as he plugs in the high-speed fan and aims it at Leo. He sighs with relief from the cold winds blowing in his face.
"We can talk about it later. Right now I have to find Mikey."
Leo hums as he falls asleep on the bed.
Donnie runs back out, closes the door to the traincar, and rounds the corner into the hallway beyond... where he finds the smashed remains of his hover-shell, and no Mikey.
Fantastic.
Stage 5: KARAOKE LOVE SONGS
Donnie can hear Mikey singing loudly. But not in English. He's howling and yowling and chirping some incoherent animal gibberish in the TV room. Splinter probably left one of his old romance soap operas on, and somebody must've busted out into a love ballad.
Donine steps closer to watch him and surveil. The noise could damage his ears with how loud and high-pitched it gets, but at least Mikey's pacified. For the moment.
Donnie messages Casey from his wrist tech; he doesn't expect that he could hear him if he tried the comms.
D: HOW'S IT GOING IN THERE?
CJ: PRETTY GOOD. ALL EXITS SECURED.
D: GREAT. MIKEY IS... SINGING (QUESTION MARK?)
CJ: LOL DOES IT SOUND THAT BAD?
D: I WOULDN'T KNOW, MY HEARING IS PERMANENTLY DAMAGED NOW.
Dee turns back to smile at Mikey, who's howling has softened and slowed to simple hums. He scratches behind his ears with his foot before getting up and dizzily trotting back to his traincar bedroom. Donnie follows from behind, staying quiet as he can. He's not sure what the next stage will do to Mikey's animal brain...
Michelangelo starts looking around his room, coughing every once in a while and sneezing on occasion before finding a large roll of paper that April dropped off some time ago. Mikey knocks it down and rolls it out, carefully setting the paints out as well. That's when he sees Donnie.
He smiles weakly and ushers him in with a soft yawn turned cough.
Donnie walks in and sits beside his brother, helping to open the jars as Mikey starts to draw images...
Stage 6: STORYTIME
Stage six is fanfiction, Donnie knows this. But for some reason, Mikey isn't making fanart or comics of his favourite characters. Donnie wonders why... he maybe doesn't recall them...? He only just remembered Lou Jitsu a few days ago, so it's not out of the question. Donnie's stomach turns when he considers that Mikey not remember that their father was Lou Jitsu...
But he's definitely drawing something. His hands still shake, and he tears the paper every other stroke, but he's making a story to tell with his art. Mikey uses his tail as a paintbrush, gentle but sloppy strokes. It's easier than finger-painting with claws. Donnie sees images of a green thing with yellow spots in a cage... needles and crude doodles of knives and pink monsters... humans in white that kick and hit and zap and freeze the poor green and yellow figure... It doesn't take long for Donnie to realize what story he's telling.
The poor green and yellow thing is crying in his cage. It almost looks like... he's waiting for something...
Then Donnie sees a purple figure. A blue one. Red.
It's them.
But Mikey omits an orange companion. Donnie points this out.
"Why didn't you draw yourself?" he asks.
Mikey looks up at him with concern, and for a moment he's worried he broke Mikey's oh-so-sensitive concentration. But instead he shakily dips his tail in the orange paint and... stalls...
The paint drips onto the paper while they wait for Mikey to make his artwork. But he doesn't.
"Do you... need some help?"
Mikey nods with a sniffle. Dee chalks that up to a runny and stuffy nose. He reaches over and takes his brother's tail, helping Mikey draw a stick figure with round cheeks and a mask with a bow. Mikey leans down to stare at the drawing, analyzing it with astonishment.
Why does he look at it like that? Why is he so surprised by his own image? Why doesn't he... recognize...
Mikey's eyes glaze over, as he slowly sits back up and exhales. Mikey's vision is far away, lost in thought.
Stage 7: MUST SAY YES
Donnie waves a hand in front of Mikey's face. No reaction. Donnie sighs.
"Mikey?"
Mikey turns his head to look at Donnie with a quiet mew.
"I know you'll say 'yes' to anything I ask for. So, I want you to..."
He wants Mikey to tell him why he didn't draw himself. Why he reacts the way he does when they leave him alone. Why he is so scared of Casey and April, why he didn't remember their names or Lou Jitsu or anything. Why he has a voice in his head, and what the voice tells him. He wants to ask for him to get better and get back to normal as quickly as possible.
"...I want you to get some rest and heal up. Okay, buddy?"
Mikey gives a weak smile before closing his eyes and flopping against Dee's chest, wheezing with each breath he makes. Donnie rolls his eyes and lifts his congested baby brother up into the hammock bed, tucking him in and making sure that he's nice and warm.
He steps out of the traincar after turning off the lights. He's utterly spent, he might try taking a nap too...
Until Casey runs up to him, a worried expression on his face.
"Donatello! Donatello!"
"Shh!" he shushes quickly, signing that Mikey is fast asleep and resting. "What is it?"
"I was reviewing security footage in the labs, and saw that Mikey never went outside the tunnels..."
"What? But the sensors --"
"Sensed something, yeah, so I went back and looked for what it was. I found this hiding outside the entrance to the lair," he says, reaching into one of his fanny packs.
Casey pulls out a mediocre miniature drone, complete with camera and microphone. The device is no better than scrap metal now, having been partially destroyed by Casey's weaponized hockey stick.
"It may have taken me by surprise..."
Donnie stares down at it. There's a small logo printed on the side with the initials EPF.
"...How long has it been here?"
"We got the alert around... maybe fifteen minutes ago?"
"Are there any more?" Dee asks, his tone low and frightfully serious.
"I don't know," Casey answers. "But I can do a perimeter sweep."
"Good idea," Donnie says, rushing away. "I'm going to create an invisible fence around the lair that knocks out any unrecognized tech. Then, I'm going to see how damaged this scrapheap is. If the receptor and signal output are still intact... maybe I can find out what our friends at the EPF are up to."
.
.
.
Dr. Timothy stares down at the wretched mutated human in a cage, wearing a torn and tattered uniform.
What a disgusting failure.
His face is misshapen and bearing three eyes, his arms (one of which is scarred from talon gashes and bite marks) are covered in fur, his hands are like bear claws and his feet are webbed. He is an amalgamation of random things, and now he's in the cage that belonged previously to 'Mikey'.
Timothy scowls at the mutation. It was a wild test, anyways. Nothing important. Just to see what would happen... Honestly, it was more as a punishment for damaging Mikey's brain than an actual scientific pursuit. And it's not like anyone will miss him; he was nothing important, anyways...
Nothing is important. Nothing matters now. Nothing but finding that one experiment again. The only successful mutation... Mikey.
The man in the cage whines at Dr. Timothy. He cannot speak anymore. Nothing more than a dumb animal. Which, from the intelligence he showed before mutation, is quite possibly an improvement.
Timothy kicks the cage in frustration. The man yipes and backs away, whinging like a dog.
What to do, what to do...
None of the mutations have worked right. None of them show any signs of increased intelligence. It seems the opposite, their minds decrease and their problem-solving skills evaporate. The physical toll on their bodies is heavy, and some never even survive the first round of mutation. None of them can take orders. None of them can fight with complexity and agility. None of them can be trained. None of them can understand basic commands or words or anything of the English language, or any language. They're all just stupid, dumb animals! None of them have had the success rate that Mikey did. Why? What about him was so special??
He was already mutated...
There are a handful of mutated freaks out there now, running amok and wreaking havoc. How were they changed? Why has it worked with them? What could have possibly done it for them, and why can't they recreate this phenomenon?!
Dr. Timothy has always been interested in mutations and enhancements. This reason is why he joined the science division of the EPF. He knows most of the scientists here are working to save the alien-infected citizens. And Tim is all for that! Why not help humanity? But why stop at simple cures, why not go bigger? There are some freaks running amok in the streets, a result of odd glowing bugs released upon the masses almost three years ago. These mutations have made the humans stronger, faster, better. They can withstand almost anything! They are practically indestructible! These idiots think that saving humanity means eradicating the mutants. They couldn't be more wrong.
It's the humans who need to be... shall we say, updated?
What a weak and pathetic species. Slow, soft, squishy and easily injured. Bruisable. Breakable. Like putty.
But add some extra features and a killer instinct... and you've got yourselves a prime class of creatures that can stand tall for centuries!
Why not be better? Why not be stronger?! Why can't they see that?!
Timothy wrings his hands through his hair, growling at the unfairness of the situation. If only he could get his hands on that mutie again... if only he could have Mikey back.
That is the only thing that matters to him now.
Getting that mutant turtle back.
It's all he thinks about. The good news is that they've sent spy drones into the tunnels and seem to have gotten some interesting footage before mysteriously going dead... Timothy is having another wave sent in within the next three days, max.
The others may have seen his passion for the science, but this is different. This is mania. This is an obsession...
Timothy will do whatever it takes to get that mutant turtle back into his possession, and figure out how he survived the mutations.
And then...
He will become the better man. The better, more dominant species.
The better mutant.
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literary-motif · 1 day
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Stress Relief
Kayson x Reader
Warnings: smoking
Exams leave you stressed and exhausted. Kayson offers comfort.
You sighed tiredly, leaning against the brick wall and closing your eyes for a moment. Exam week had come sooner than you expected, leaving little time to do anything but study as you desperately tried to meet the overachieving standards you had set yourself. 
You could practically feel your parents breathing down your neck already, eyeing you wearily and asking you in that slightly deprecating tone dripped in false naivety why you didn’t do better. 
They had always taught you to aim for the best, fight for it, work for it — but in the end, your lofty expectations and the pressure you constantly put on yourself to excel at everything left you exhausted and burnt out. 
The stress had built steadily over the past few weeks while you continuously pushed yourself well past your limits to finish everything on time. The essay was done. You had written the notes. You had studied the entire subject by heart. You had solved the problems, reread the books, and done all the mock exams until your vision was blurry from lack of sleep and you could no longer formulate a coherent thought.
There was nothing left to do. This had been your last exam, and you should feel relieved now that it was all over, but somehow the weight did not lift from your shoulders. You felt more stressed out than you ever had before. 
It made no sense. 
You rummaged through your pocket, fishing out the pack of cigarettes you had hidden from Kayson. 
He had quit smoking after you got together, finding more solace in your gentle embrace than in the little pack you held in your hands. When you had seen it half-empty, you had decided to take it, lest he was tempted to indulge when you were not there to give him comfort instead.
You hesitated only a moment before taking out a cigarette and lighting it, silently thanking chance that Kayson had left his lighter in the pack. You took a long drag, exhaling the smoke again with a grimace. It tasted different than what you remembered. You had never smoked the same brand as Kayson before. 
Not that you were in the habit anyway, but sometimes you needed something to take the edge off. You had been burning for a cigarette since the stress began stealing your sleep. 
“Indulging in my vice?” a voice said from behind you, making you cough out a mouthful of smoke. You turned to see Kayson leaning against the wall, looking at you with an eyebrow raised. “What’s the matter, perfect? Startled at getting caught?” 
You huffed, leaning your head back and looking up at the overcast sky. “Think it will rain?” you asked instead, recalling how you left your umbrella on the kitchen table this morning.
Kayson frowned at your dismissal, worried about the emptiness he heard in your voice. He knew you tended to overwork yourself, drawing on depleted resources to finish everything, perfect it, and submit it well before the deadline. You worked yourself to exhaustion until there was nothing left and you crashed. 
It was easy to tell when the stress got to you, but despite his best efforts to coax you to take breaks and leave your work to unwind for half a day sometimes, he knew you could not relax until you completed your work. 
His heart ached seeing the dark circles under your eyes, evidence of the pressure grinding you to the ground. Still, he put on a smile to cheer you up with the radiant charm you loved so much. “I was wondering where that pack went,” he chuckled, nudging your shoulder, “when did you pick up smoking?”
“I didn’t,” you replied, taking another drag. 
“What do you call this, then?”
“Indulging in your vice. You said so yourself. Besides,” you said, exhaling another lungful of smoke, “I think there’s something poetic about the taste of ash in my mouth.”
“Shut up,” Kayson said, both amused and concerned. He plucked the cigarette from your fingers, putting it out on the sidewalk. “That’s enough indulgence for today. Why don’t you come over? I wanted to pick you up after the exam and treat you to lunch. I spent the whole morning in the kitchen just for you.”
You couldn’t help the genuine smile breaking out across your face. “You didn’t have to,” you said, intertwining your fingers and allowing Kayson to walk you home. “I would have been fine with a snack.”
“Sure you would have,” he said, making a detour to the trashcan and throwing away the stump, “but I wanted to do something nice for you.” 
You squeezed his hand, trying to convey your gratitude with the simple gesture alone. “You don’t need to do anything for me. Having you is more than enough.”
“Aw,” Kayson cooed, but you could see the faint blush on his face regardless. “How romantic of you. Watch out, or you’ll make me swoon.” 
You laughed at his teasing, feeling it lift the heaviness from your shoulders. “Thanks, Kay,” you said, leaning into his side as you continued walking, your steps slightly hurried to escape the threatening downpour. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Kayson chuckled fondly, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. “I’ll always be there for you to lean on, perfect. Next time, come to me. You know I’m better at relieving your stress than those damn cigarettes.”
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shorthairchris · 3 hours
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In the most not pick me/babying them way,
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Comments like these make me so sad for them.
People need to realize being a youtuber is so much more mentally challenging than they think. Feeling like every single thing you do is being watched and analyzed, losing who you are bc you start to feel like a product and not a real person, having to keep a certain standard and live up to people’s perception of you, trying to make funny videos even when you’re going through a tough time, etc… and these comments only add onto that. (I know the triplets read all these comments and more bc they always stalk this account)
We all saw how miserable they were in the last couple months of doing the podcast. They spent half of the episodes fighting just bc they were burnt off. Remember tough guy Matt? Everybody said he looked like he was going through something and we thought they were babying him but they were right. They all seem so much happier since they stopped doing the pod and nick said it multiple times. Also their videos are way better now. I’m gonna miss the Wednesday videos but i have no doubt they need to do what feels right to them.
And to all the people saying working a 9-5 is harder and that the triplets make a shit ton of money, they know that. We all know that. But they got lucky enough that they get to wake up every day and make these videos for us. And for a lot of us it means something. So if you don’t care about their well being and only care about how many minutes of content they put out every week please fuck off. You’re welcome to unsubscribe
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thisonehere · 7 hours
Note
I thought your recent post on Smoke x reader was funny, who would think Tomas would have this side of him 🤣
Can you do a part 2 where Kuai Liang notices the awkward sexual tension and embarrass Tomas by mentioning Tomas's crush on the reader as payback for the reader?
A/n: Lol I love that idea. Perfect so long energy between the two.
Tags: MK 1, Post-MK1, drabble, SFW, Sibking bimeing siblings
C/w: Kuai Embarrassed Tomas
Last part
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Tomas had you in a chokehold. Ever since you were screaming from his room you've been a mess around him, and Tomas enjoyed every second of it. He was shy and awkward about everything else, but it came to you, he was dominant and very, very naughty. He didn’t hesitate to flash you either. I'm serious, the moment he sees you he lifts his shirt slightly so you can catch a glimpse of his abs. He'd laugh at how you gag and cough because you choke on the air at the sight of it.
Kuai saw the strange way you two were acting, he didn't know what was happening but he knew something was up. He wasn't blind, he saw the blush that would immediately appear on your face the moment you saw Tomas walk in or the way Tomas likes to purposely flex his muscles in front of you. He has no idea when Tomas got bold, nor when you got to sheepish...he did not like this shift in your dynamic. So, ever the good big brother, he decided that he'd embarrass Tomas in front of you on your behalf.
He waited until you and him were alone, he chose this specific place because he knew Tomas would be walking in at that moment. He watched as you immediately shrink as Tomas walks. He saw the smirk on Tomas's face when he laid his eyes on you. "Y/n, you're drooling again." He joked.
He blushed as you hid your race. You attempt to rise and quickly leave, but Kuai is quick to act.
"Just like you used to do." Kuai happily said. Both you and Tomas swung your heads over to him. "W-What?" Tomas said, already you could be Tomas's confidence waning. "Well, I'm just saying, you always seemed to drool whenever Y/n so much as walked by, you wouldn't even drool just at the mention of their name." At this, you slowly rise as your ears pick up this this.
"Kuai, No!"
Kuai's smile grew when he saw how both your demeanors changed. "But it's true. You used to have the biggest crush on Y/n. I remember how you acted the moment you first met, Tomas couldn't stop blushing for weeks. He couldn't seem to stop talking about you, Y/n " Kuai immediately mimics Tomas's shy and gentle manner.
"Everyday, it was 'Did Y/n ask about me? Did you see how amazing they looked? When can we see them again?' " Kuai looked over to you and saw you were now trying to contain a giggle as you looked over at Tomas, who was now covering his in shame. But you could see the blush behind his hands. "I hate you so much right now."
"I love you too." Kuai, now pleased, rose from his seat and walked out of the room. You mouth 'thank you' to him as you wickedly look over to Tomas.
"Careful, Tomas, you're drooling again."
After that day, things went back to normal, Tomas was back to being super shy around you and you walked with an air of confidence around you. So everything is back to the usual...sort of. The sexual tension between the two of you had gone down but not fizzled out. He noticed you two steal a glance when the other wasn't looking, he heard you two banter sometimes, it was cute and awkward with a hint of horny in it, just as it should be. Kuai smiled to himself. "It seems those two have a lot to work out" Harumi noted at seeing you two together. Kuai chuckled as he nodded his head in agreement. "True, I have confidence that they'll do great together. But if Tomas ever gets too confident, I'll be sure to tell Y/n another story."
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little-diable · 8 hours
Text
Who prays for Satan? - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)
This isn't our usual dark!Tom, he's still fucked up, but not as dark as the other priest fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, guided masturbation (f), spanking, forced confession, smut in a church/in a confessional, choking, degrading, unaddressed age gap, power play, professor x student, religious connotations
Pairing: Priest!Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (about 3k words)
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"Please remember that you only have time until Friday to tell me, where you will do your internship. Have a good week, and don’t forget the essays, please.” The sounds of students hastily rising to their feet echoed through the room, but while some were desperate to leave, getting away from the professor who looked like God’s finest creation, but spoke like the Devil himself, others were desperate to catch his attention with bland questions he found himself annoyed by. 
“(Y/n), do you have a moment?” His voice drew her closer, past the group of students who looked at her with hate swimming in their pupils. She didn’t look at them as she walked past them, coming to a halt in front of the tall man with a soft smile glued to her lips. “Walk with me.”
Neither of them spared the others another glance as he strode out in the hallway, expecting her to follow him. It wasn’t the first class of his (y/n) was visiting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, as she found herself awfully drawn towards the priest, who had taken on a few theology classes at their university. Something about him was different. Something she couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard she tried to. 
“I knew you’d turn in your essay days before the others would even begin writing it, but I was pleasantly surprised by your work this week. It was smart of you to use the famous Mark Twain quote: “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” It always stuck with me.”
“Thank you, Professor Riddle. You once told me how much you think of this quote, so it only felt right to use it for this week’s focus on sinning.” The throaty chuckle rumbling through him left her feeling surprised, not used to seeing him this giddy. His smile didn’t waver, not as they came to a halt in front of his office, not as he guided her inside, not as they plopped down on their designated seats. 
“Your essay isn’t the reason for this chat, though. I was thinking of what you said to me, and I decided that you can join my church for your internship. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell others I’m allowing you to do this, I never give out internships, and I’m only taking you on because I know how dedicated and smart you are.” Heat rose in her system, crawling up her throat to force (y/n) to avert her gaze. She had been desperate to find a church to join, not wanting to spend her internship as a simple office help, she needed practice, something to help her figure out what she actually wanted to do with her life.
“I highly appreciate this, thank you, professor. I promise, I won’t make you regret your choice.” Her eyes flickered back to his piercing ones, instantly sucked into his mesmerizing grasp. He was like a siren, luring her into his trap to feast on her darkening thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t been able to shake ever since meeting the tall priest. 
“I know you won’t, (y/n). You will start Sunday morning to join me for the first service of the day, and then we can go through your task for the upcoming two weeks.” 
……
“Professor?” Her voice hallowed through the empty church. It was still dark out, an early morning she had struggled to adjust to, and yet her nerves had managed to get her out of bed, finding her way towards these holy halls. Her sneakers met the ground as (y/n) walked up to the altar, letting her fingertips dance over the cold marble, appreciating the grounding sensation she was instantly taken over by. 
“You’re early.” Professor Riddle's raspy voice made her jump, she had been too distracted by her surroundings to hear him approach, slowly turning towards him with wide eyes. He was wearing his black signature suit, paired with the white collar she’d see in her darkest moments, making heat pool between her thighs. 
(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into her palms to rip herself out of the hazy fog calling for her, needing to stay focused before she could do or say something that would end her internship right there and then. 
“I thought you may need some help preparing for the service.” A sickly sweet smile tugged on her lips, forcing his teeth to rot from the mere possibility of tasting her. He took a step towards her, with his hands clamped together behind his back, giving him an extra authoritarian touch. But while her body screamed at her to take a step back, to find shelter behind the altar, her mind murmured to (y/n) to hold still, not daring to give in to his intimidation scheme. 
“I certainly appreciate your help, (y/n). I knew it was the right choice to pick you for this internship.” He towered over her, staring down at her with his gaze reminding her of a snake, ready to pounce, to sink its poisonous teeth into her quivering body. At that very moment, she was Eve, tempted by the eternal sin, and he was her downfall. She stood closer to him than ever before, front about to touch his, seeking the warmth he emanated in a place as cold as this church. 
“So, what should I do?” (Y/n) needed to get away from him, no longer trusting herself with ignoring the shameless whispers ringing in her ears. But the tall man didn’t back off, he kept watching her with that smirk that told her he knew exactly what she found herself bothered by. A losing game (y/n) had never been destined to win, burning out like a cigarette setting a petrol station ablaze, destined to burn to the ground. 
“Why don’t you choose this morning’s prayers?” He reached for the Bible resting on the altar, way too close to her. His front brushed hers as he leaned forward, reaching for the leather-bound book before pushing it into (y/n)’s grasp. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as his hand disappeared inside the pocket of his jacket, pulling free a black rosary. “Oh, before I forget. Here, I want you to have this.” 
(Y/n) didn’t get any time to react or to ask questions as he pushed the rosary over her head to let it rest on her chest. His hand kept holding onto the dangling cross, while his eyes flickered back to her confused ones. “They will know you belong to me, wear it whenever you are working here.”
……
Her eyes were focused on the bright laptop screen as she was typing away her notes for this day, promising to give them to Professor Riddle before leaving. Even though her thoughts were still all over the place, (y/n) found herself growing more comfortable around the tall man most students were scared of. He treated her kindly, and yet something was hiding behind his words and expressions she couldn’t pinpoint. 
“Are you done with your notes?” Professor Riddle’s voice filled his office as he stepped inside. (Y/n) didn’t lift her gaze at first, hastily trying to type the last sentence before she gave in and dared to look at him. 
“Just finished, should I print them?” He didn’t reply to her question, eyes fully focused on her upper body, trying to locate the missing rosary. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) watched him approach, rounding the desk to find his way towards her. (Y/n) struggled to breathe as the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against her frame, forcing her to get lost in his darkening eyes. 
“Where is the rosary?” She knew that she had forgotten it at home this very morning, too tired to care about any rules and regulations, but her hand still snapped up to her chest, trying to find the missing piece.
“I’m sorry, I forgot it at home.” He didn’t give in to the soft smile (y/n) shot him, didn’t pick up on the exhaustion dripping from her words, solemnly focused on the way she had gone against his rules. His tongue kissed his teeth before he took a step back and stretched his ringed hand out for her to take. “Where are we going?”
“I wanted to go over this with you tomorrow, but it seems like tonight is the perfect time to do so.” (Y/n) was led out of his office and down the hallway towards the dark nave. They walked up to the confessional, and as he opened one door for her, he shot her a look that made her tremble, letting any protests die on the tip of her tongue. 
“Have you ever confessed before, (y/n)?” She was engulfed by darkness, and could barely see her own hands, let alone the man who was sitting close to her, behind the wooden construction keeping them apart. The scent of incense hung in the air, sticking to her like a second layer of skin, a reminder of their sacred surroundings.
“No, professor.” (Y/n) had been addressing him as “Professor” for the past days, not daring to use any other title, let alone his first name. But the second she used this very title to address him, (y/n) could tell that it would be the last time she’d call him that tonight, a shift was happening, something she was now taken over by. 
“It’s Priest Riddle to you.” The barely audible gasp clawing through (y/n) left him chuckling, followed by the sound of him shifting around on the bench, making himself comfortable as she grew more tense. “You sinned, you went against my rules. I must punish you for that, (y/n).”
“Punish me?” She hated that his words pushed excitement through her, forcing her to sit even straighter as if he could see her. Her fingertips began to tingle, her legs were quivering, unable to hold still as something she had only dreamt of slowly began to unfold right at that very moment. 
“Honesty will be the price of your foolishness, (y/n). I notice the way you look at me, how you seem to long for something you aren’t allowed to even reach for. Tell me, (y/n), what is it you so desperately seem to want?” Embarrassment flushed through her, followed by anger she couldn’t shake. How dare he ask something like this? How dare he try to embarrass her for a simple mistake? She should have left the confessional, stormed out of the church, and reported the man for overstepping. And yet she didn’t, already stuck in the trap he had laid out for her months ago.
“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She didn’t know what she wanted from him if she was merely longing for his touch, or if something even more desperate was guiding her on. She didn’t know if she wanted a simple taste, or to be swallowed wholly by him. She simply didn’t know. 
“How far are you willing to go, (y/n)?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to swallow as his words began to sink in. (Y/n) was grateful that he couldn’t see her, the way her pupils were dilated by the lust flushing through her, the goosebumps covering every visible part of her body as if she was engulfed by an icy wind. 
“Farther than I should.” A part of her expected him to break the spell they were now connected by, to pull her out of the confessional and scold her for giving in this easily. But the priest didn’t move, and neither did (y/n). 
“Spread your legs, I want you to touch yourself like I bet you keep imagining me doing.” With her heart in her throat, (y/n)’s hand disappeared beneath her skirt, slowly pushing her damp panties aside. A soft moan clawed through the student, grateful that the others had left the church hours ago. “Good girl, fuck yourself with your fingers.”
Another moan left (y/n) as she pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls as if she was preparing herself for his cock, desperate to take every inch. She kept moaning for him, choking on her sounds that grew heavier with every passing moment. 
“I can hear how wet you are, I bet you taste so sweet, like the forbidden fruit.” His words guided her on, ringing in her ears as if the Devil was calling for her, wandering through the darkness to reach his open arms, getting lost in his sweet promises. “I should imprint my palm on your skin for going against my rules. You promised you wouldn’t disappoint me, didn’t you?”
“I’m sorry.” Her needy whimpers left the priest chuckling, sounds that almost managed to drown out the ones clawing through (y/n). 
“I’m sure you are, (y/n). Stop touching yourself.” It pained her to pull her hand away, she had been close to giving in, ready to call out his name as her orgasm clashed through her, seconds before she could have reached paradise. The sounds of Priest Riddle leaving his side of the confessional echoed through the evening, followed by the sounds of him opening her side and stepping into the small space. 
She was pulled to her feet and tugged in for a kiss that left her moaning. (Y/n)’s arms found their way around Priest Riddle's neck, trying to pull the tall man even closer as if she were addicted to him. He broke the kiss to turn her around, pressing (y/n)’s front against the wooden wall separating both sides of the confessional. His ringed hands felt cold against her body as he shuffled her skirt up to her waist, letting her panties drop to the ground seconds later.
“I hope you prepared yourself enough for this punishment.” His ringed hand came down on her behind, forcing a yelp out of (y/n) who pressed herself further against the cold wood. Pain stretched itself through her, an unfamiliar kind of pain that made her ache for more. Once again, his palm met her warm skin, knowing that she’d struggle with sitting for the next few days. “I can’t wait to finally fuck you, make you pay for all these times I felt your eyes on me like a needy whore who doesn’t know when to stop.”
(Y/n) couldn’t protest, she couldn’t speak up to beg him for any kindness he wouldn’t offer. Only as she felt him pull away for a moment did (y/n) allow herself to breathe, blinking away the tears that had welled up in her eyes. 
“What do you want, (y/n)? And don’t feed me another lie. I want your honesty.” Chills ran down her spine at his dangerous tone, shaking through (y/n) like an earthquake set on ripping her off her feet. She had to deeply inhale, had to heavily swallow before she managed to put her longings into words, needing to break out of his trap. 
“I want your cock, fuck me, please, Priest Riddle.” A satisfied hum left the man, followed by the sounds of him ripping open a condom, prepared for his very punishment. It didn’t take long until she felt him at her entrance, slowly pushing into (y/n) with a heavy groan that dripped with need and lust clawing through him.
It felt as if they had been created for his moment only, bodies made to fit. 
“I should tell you to never sin again, to stay true to your promises. But you’ve turned me into a sinner as well, no promise could keep me from you any longer.” His words left her gasping, walls clenching around this twitching cock. He fucked her with urgency, set on proving to (y/n) and to himself that she was his, his to guide, his to punish. 
“You take my cock so well, I bet you dreamt of being fucked by me in a holy place, didn’t you?” His warm breath clashed against her tingling skin as he spoke his words, drawing a heavy sob out of (y/n) as she lost her grip on their surroundings. Tom’s hand moved like a snake, slithering back up to her throat to hold onto her, letting go of a raspy, “Speak when I ask you to.” 
“Yes, I did. I dreamt of it.” It was a simple reply, yet it was just enough to make the priest hum in approval. He twitched inside of her as he could tell that they both were ready to let go with their hearts pounding and their limbs aching. (Y/n) struggled to breathe on as he tightened his grip on her throat, forcing her head to rest against his broad chest. The priest stared down at (y/n), her lighthouse in the darkest nights, the burning bush to rely on. An anchor of safety. 
“Let go, (y/n), be honest once again.” She came with a gasp, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. A sight so ethereal, the priest followed her moments later, letting his teeth graze his lower lip to draw some blood. He pulled out of her all too quickly, to turn her back towards him with his bloody lip finding hers, “Now you’re truly mine, bound my blood.” 
And who was she to deny a sinner a wish this pure? At least it was on them to pray for Satan that night, since God no longer would pick up on their calls. 
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writingforstraykids · 3 hours
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Amazing what lies you were capable of
Pairing: Chan x reader (referred to as she/her)
Word Count: 1485
Summary: Chan reflects on everything that happened with her and finally decides to move on.
Warnings/Tags: angst, mention of ghosting, empty promises, mention of smoking (one sentence), heartbreak
A/N: Purely self-indulgent, I already apologize for the angst.🖤
do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -
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Amazing what lies you were capable of, Chan thought as he sat in his dimly lit apartment, staring at his phone. The screen was blank, no sign of any new messages or missed calls. The silence was deafening, each minute stretching into eternity. He had been here before, in this very position, heart pounding with a mix of hope and dread, only to be met with the same empty void.
The first time she had ghosted him, he had been naive enough to make excuses on her behalf. She was busy with work, overwhelmed by her personal life, or perhaps dealing with something he couldn’t quite grasp. He had convinced himself that there were reasonable explanations for her silence. But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the pattern became unmistakable. She would reappear with apologies that seemed genuine, stories of chaos that he wanted so desperately to believe. And each time, he welcomed her back with open arms, the embers of their connection rekindling his hope.
Now, as he sat there in the dark, he couldn’t help but reflect on the many moments they had shared and the many more they had missed. She had been a whirlwind in his life, a bright and captivating force that had drawn him in from the moment they met. Her laughter, infectious and bright, had been a beacon in the often gray landscape of his days. Her touch, warm and reassuring, had been his anchor in the stormy seas of uncertainty.
But those moments of joy were always fleeting, interrupted by the harsh reality of her absence. She would vanish without a trace, leaving behind only the faint echoes of her promises. Promises that now seemed as insubstantial as the smoke from his cigarette, curling and dissolving into the night air.
Chan rose from the couch and walked to the window, looking out at the city that stretched out before him. The lights flickered like distant stars, each one a reminder of the lives bustling around him lives that seemed so much more certain and grounded than his own. He wondered how many others in this sprawling metropolis were staring at their own silent phones, waiting for a message that might never come.
He remembered the last time he had seen her, just over a month ago. They had met at their favorite café, a cozy little place tucked away from the main streets. She had been radiant, her eyes sparkling with a light that had always captivated him. They had talked for hours, losing themselves in conversation, sharing dreams and fears. She had told him about her new job, the excitement in her voice intoxicating. He had felt a surge of pride and happiness for her, believing that this time, things would be different.
But then, as always, she had started to pull away. Her messages became sporadic, her replies curt and distant. He could sense her slipping through his fingers, like sand in an hourglass, each grain a moment lost to the void. He had tried to reach out, to understand what was happening, but his efforts were met with silence.
Amazing what lies you were capable of, he repeated to himself, the words a bitter mantra. He had believed her when she said she loved him when she promised that they would make it through whatever challenges lay ahead. He had believed her when she said that her disappearances were never about him, that she was dealing with her own demons. But now, those words felt like daggers, cutting deep into the fabric of his stupidly blind trust.
He turned away from the window and walked back to the couch, sinking into its familiar embrace. His mind drifted to the countless nights he had spent waiting for her, each one a torment of doubt and longing. He thought about the times he had seen her online, her status mocking him with its glaring green dot and the agony of watching as his messages went unread.
Chan picked up his phone again, scrolling through their old conversations. Each message was a relic of a time when hope had still burned bright within him. He lingered on the ones that had meant the most to him, the ones where she had poured her heart out to him, where she had shared her deepest fears and wildest dreams. He had held onto those words like a lifeline, believing that they were a testament to the depth of their connection.
But now, he saw them for what they were: illusions. Beautiful, comforting illusions that had kept him trapped in a cycle of hope and despair. He wondered how much of what she had said had been true and how much had been crafted to keep him hanging on. He wondered if she had ever truly loved him or if he had simply been a convenient escape from her own reality.
The thought of moving on had crossed his mind many times, but each time he had pushed it away. The idea of a life without her, even with all the pain she brought, was too unbearable to contemplate. He had built his world around her, his identity intertwined with hers in ways he couldn’t easily unravel. She was the sun around which his life orbited, and without her, he was lost in the darkness.
But now, as he sat in the quiet of his apartment, he felt a shift within him. The pain was still there, a dull ache that throbbed in his chest, but it was accompanied by a new sense of clarity. He realized that he couldn’t keep living like this, trapped in a cycle of hope and heartache. He couldn’t keep waiting for someone who might never come back, for promises that might never be fulfilled.
He thought about the lies she had told, the ones that had kept him tethered to her even as she drifted away. He thought about the moments of joy they had shared, moments that had felt so real but now seemed like mere fantasies. And he realized that he needed to let go of those illusions, to accept that they were never meant to be.
Chan took a deep breath and set his phone down, the decision solidifying in his mind. He needed to move on, to find a way to rebuild his life without her. It wouldn’t be easy, and the pain wouldn’t disappear overnight, but he knew it was the only way forward. He couldn’t keep living in the shadows of her absence, waiting for a light that might never return.
He stood up and walked to the kitchen, the weight of his decision heavy but liberating. He poured himself a glass of water, the cool liquid soothing his sore throat. As he drank, he thought about the future, about the possibilities that lay ahead. He thought about the things he had put on hold for her, the dreams he had pushed back in the hope of a shared future that now seemed so unlikely.
He realized that it was time to start living for himself, to reclaim the parts of his life that he had sacrificed for a love that had never truly been his. It was time to let go of the past and embrace the unknown, to find joy in the small moments and the simple pleasures that life had to offer.
As he stood there in the quiet of his apartment, he felt a sense of peace settle over him. The road ahead would be long and difficult, but for the first time in a long while, he felt ready to face it. He was ready to let go of the lies, to free himself from the chains of a love that had only ever brought him pain.
Amazing what lies you were capable of, he thought one last time, but now the words were not filled with bitterness. Instead, they were a reminder of the strength he had found within himself, the resilience that had kept him going even in the darkest of times. He knew that he would carry the scars of this love with him, but he also knew that they would make him stronger, a testament to the battles he had fought and the victories he had won.
Chan took one last look at his phone, the screen still blank, and then turned it off. He didn’t need it anymore, didn’t need the constant reminder of a love that had never truly been his. He was ready to move on, to find his own path, and to embrace the future with an open heart and a hopeful spirit. And as he took his first steps into the unknown, he knew that he would be okay, that he would find his way, and that he would never again let himself be defined by the lies of the past.
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lunajay33 · 1 day
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Terror🪦
Summary: Going on a Hunt with Dean and Sam, your older brothers, you come across a case that triggers an old memory of fear, things go wrong and they need John to help bring you back from a horrified state
Pairing: Dean x lil sister, Sam x lil sister, John x daughter
•Masterlist•
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As a kid you were always interested in the supernatural, whenever you could you’d beg John to tell you his hunting stories or even informing you on creatures, the werewolves, vampires, spirits, they were all so intriguing until….he told you about pagan gods, for some reason they terrified you especially when one case he was working on the Pagan god took you as leverage sticking the fear of god into you, after John had been able to save you, you went into a kind of catatonic paranoid state, you freaked at every noise, didn’t speak for weeks and stayed locked in the motel rooms refusing to leave, after about a month John was able to help cokes you out of the shell you hide in and you were back to your normal self
Flash forward to Now
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You woke up to your cell phone ringing, you shot up in bed answering an unknown number
“Hello?”
“Sweetheart is that you?” Your heart dropped
“Daddy? Are you okay are you hurt?” Your brothers woke from your panicked tone
“I’m fine but you need to listen, you’ve gotta stop following me, now take these names down I’ve got a job for you all”
“But……but I miss you”
“Is that dad give me the phone” Dean groaned from beside you but you waved him off
“I know I miss you kids but I can’t put you all in danger give the phone to Dean”
“Okay……..I love you dad”
“Love you too kid”
Dean got the names and you were off driving to Indiana for a new case, on the way there Sam and Dean got into it again about helping dad, parking in the side of the road
“We don’t have to follow his every rule we need to go to California” Sam groaned getting out of the car, you and Dean quick to follow
“Sammy please don’t do this just get back in the car” you said scared he was going to leave again
“I’ve gotta go help, this demon killed mom and killed Jess”
“Sam I swear I’ll leave your ass here” Dean said slamming the trunk
“Then go”
“No sam please stay, don’t leave again”
He didn’t say anything breaking your heart and Dean could tell, you were heart broken when Sam left the first time and when John went MIA it was even harder on you
“Come on kid, we got people to save” you were hesitant to go desperate for Sam to get back in the car but he was persistent on leaving so you got back in the Impala watching Sam disappear in the rear view mirror, feeling the tears brim wiping them away before they fell
“Don’t worry kid you always got me, I’m never going anywhere”
“Thanks Dean”
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Getting into the town you and Dean started asking around about the case, two missing people a guy and a girl but the town folk were dismissive and closed off, definitely hiding something
You got directions to where they last left off too coming to an orchard, it was old and gave you the chills
“Dean I don’t like the look of this place”
“Yeah me either, come on let’s look around” you sighed getting out and following him through the orchard until you came across a scarecrow
“Scariest scarecrow I’ve ever seen”
“You got that right” he says climbing up to inspect the thing
“He’s got the missing guys tattoo, think I know what we’re dealing with” he said looking at you with weary eyes as he climbed back down
“What? What is it?”
“Think it’s a Pagan god, they’re sacrifices” your heart dropped feeling instant chills and a wave of anxiety course through you
“Dean no…..you know I can’t….”
“Woah woah calm down, I know I remember, let’s get you outta here” he leads you out of the orchard back to his car
“We’ve got research to do, so we can get the hell outta here soon” he drove to a near by school that had history on pagan gods
“You stay here I won’t be long” he assured as he left
Pagan? Out of all the cases John could send you on it was the one thing that scared you the most
All of a sudden the door on your side of the car opened and the sheriff was there holding the butt end of a rifle towards you then everything went black
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You woke up in a dark place with a throbbing pain in your head, groaning you try to get up when you hear something near you
“Hello?”
“Y/n is that you?”
“Dean oh thank god” you sigh making your way over to him listening to his voice, feeling his arms wrap around you
“What’s gonna happen to us?”
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you” the doors above opened revealing the people you questioned in the town, the sheriff pointing a gun
They dragged you both out tying you to trees in the orchard
“I’m sorry but it’s for the greater good” the older lady says before they all left
“Oh god it’s happening all over again Dean, why would dad send us on this case?” You panicked as the sun got lower
“I’ll get us outta this”
“How?”
“Let me think?” It was dark now and there was still no plan
There was footsteps behind you getting closer, you scream and cry trying to escape
“Dean? Y/n?” It was Sam he came back
“Oh thank god, Sammy get us out of here, watch out for the scarecrow too” sam starts to unchain you both
“What scarecrow?” You all turn to where the scarecrow is suppose to be hanging and it was gone, groans were right behind you quick to turn and it was the scarecrow coming your way, Dean took your hand as you all ran almost out of the orchard the the towns people surrounded you
“Just let us go” Sam pleaded
“We can’t he needs a sacrifice” he’s stopped when a scythe is driven through his heart given you and your brothers to run making it out of the orchard in time as screams were heard behind you
You collapsed by the side of the impala the adrenaline wearing off as the fear came crashing down consuming you triggering all the memories that you so desperately tried to forget, you woke in a new motel room obviously gone from that horrid town
“Hey sweetheart how’re you feeling?” Dean asked from your bedside you wanted to answer but that fear was still there, it felt like if you just curled up and locked yourself away they pagan gods couldn’t get to you so that’s exactly what you did
You turned away from Dean and didn’t speak, refusing any food, this went on for weeks, until eventually it was two months and you were wasting away, every day was filled with fear and Sam and Dean didn’t know what to do to help you, they tried everything, even while working on other cases they felt desperate like you were one case they couldn’t fix
“Love you gotta eat or get outside we can’t see you like this anymore it’s not healthy” Sammy said but still no response
“We need to call dad, he got her out of this last time, it’s our last choice here” you missed your dad dearly he was always sweet on you, you were his little girl and reminded him so much of Mary
You could hear them calling over and over again desperate for an answer when finally after the 6th time he must have answered Sam
“Dad I know you told us to not call but it’s bad”
“That case a few months back you sent us on it was a pagan god, they got y/n you know how she is with that stuff”
“Yeah she’s like before, but worse, she needs you dad”
He hung up the phone looking at you with a worried look, you felt embarrassed and like a burden, you tried really hard to get better but every time you closed your eyes you saw them
“He’s coming sweetheart, it’ll be okay” Dean said brushing your hair back soothing you a bit
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You were sleeping hearing faint voices around you, you opened your eyes to see Sam Dean and John talking in the entry way of the motel room, they noticed your movement and ceased all talk
John made his way over kneeling down by your bed so he was eye level with you
“Hey sweetie, heard you weren’t doing good” you shake your head side to side
“They can’t hurt you, your brothers would never let that happen”
“But……but I’m scared” your voice raspy from lose of use
“I know but you can’t do this to yourself, you’ve gotta be strong”
“I’m sorry” you say your lip trembling
“Not your fault, now come on let’s get you some fresh air”
After that your brothers were there easing you back into everything, eating, hunting and eventually you were back in business but you swore to never work on a pagan case again
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Drawn to you | Pt. 8
(A/N) Writing this was fun, but I've never cried so much while writing fanfiction.
Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)
Warnings: sick!Reader, cancer, major character death, Reader finds out the truth
Synopsis: He remembers you. Finally.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
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“I am sorry…you have cancer.”
You didn’t react. After all, you had already suspected it for quite some time. This was just the confirmation. But Alastor…oh your sweet Alastor. You glanced at him and watched all color drain from his face.
You squeezed his hand and tried to smile at him reassuringly.
“Is…how bad is it?”
The doctor glanced at the man by your side before he looked at you again, and you immediately knew the answer.
“It’s stage four. I’m honestly surprised you are still as lively as you are.”
Alastor looked up, panic clear on his face. He couldn’t lose you. Not you.
“What about treatments? There has to be something we can do, there-.”
You gently pulled at his hand, grabbing his attention. With a soft smile, you turned back to the doctor and asked for a moment alone with Al. The doctor of course agreed and left the room, giving you two some space.
“Al…”
As he looked at you, you watched tears gather in his eyes. Not you. Anything but not you. He fell to his knees in front of your chair as you pulled him into a tight embrace, resting his head against your chest. You tried your best to soothe him as the tears spilled from his eyes. It took a few minutes for him to calm down enough to talk.
“I can’t lose you.”
You smiled at him, swiping some of his hair out of his face.
“No matter what happens Al, I’ll always be with you. Watching over you. You’ll never truly lose me, okay? Let’s just make the best of what time is left.”
After a moment, he nodded but still stayed on his knees in front of you until the doctor knocked on the door. You spent the rest of the day at the clinic, Alastor calling in sick, as the doctor explained what would be done. He offered treatment, but you knew that you were too far gone and declined. But you accepted some medicine that would help on bad days. At the end of the day, you left hand in hand with Alastor, who insisted on taking you back to his apartment for the night.
You soon had to quit your job and stay home most of the day. But Alastor fulfilled every promise he had ever made to you. He bought a big house with a pretty backyard and he took the time to plant your favorite flowers. He built the swing where you’d spend most of your time, wrapped up in blankets, no matter how warm it was. And after a few weeks, he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. Of course, you said yes, not having the heart to tell Alastor that you’d never make it to your wedding day. You knew that your days were almost up, so you asked Alastor to take a week off, saying that you wanted to do some wedding planning.
But on the last day of his week off, the two of you were sitting on your swing, you in his arms. And you knew it was time. You glanced up at your lover and could see in his eyes that he knew as well.
“I love you Al. Always will. Don’t…don’t forget me, okay?”
He smiled, tears in his eyes.
“How could I ever forget you? I love you so much my darling. Go rest, you deserved it.”
You passed away in his arms that night. It was peaceful and quiet and even after you had died, Alastor continued to hold your body while crying, swearing that he’d never forget you.
Heaven - right after
The next thing you remembered was feeling like you did before you had gotten sick. You felt healthy, cheerful, and energetic. You turned to look around and found a person standing, waiting for you.
“Welcome to heaven, dear.”
Heaven? You never thought that it was real, but now that you had actually died, you felt a sort of relief wash over you. With steady feet, you walked up to the person, a blonde, young man with wings.
“I’m Saint Peter, and I can see that you’re on my list, so walk right in.”
He smiled and gestured towards the large gate that slowly swung open. You were about to step towards it, but you had something you wanted to ask him.
“Do…do you know when everyone dies?”
Saint Peter nodded.
“My…my fiance…when will he…will he live a long life?”
The man quickly checked his list but came up empty. Instead, he grabbed the file that was lying on his desk and flipped through it.
“Oh, you mean Alastor?”
You nodded, relief washing through you that he had found him. That must mean that he’d go to heaven as well.
“I’m sorry dear, but he won’t live much longer. And when he does die, he will go to hell.”
Hell? That can’t be right. The sweet man who had changed his entire life to take care of you. The man you had loved since the moment you met him.
“You-You must be mistaken.”
“I’m not I’m afraid. Serial killers don’t usually get into heaven, you know? Not that you knew about any of that, if you had you wouldn’t have ended up here.”
He smiled as if he had just told you that the next few days would be sunny, while you couldn’t believe your ears. Alastor couldn’t have-, he wouldn’t-, he…and suddenly everything you had ever wondered about made sense. The fact that he always seemed annoyed when he had to warn the public about the serial killer. The stains on his clothes. His weird behavior the mornings after a new victim was found and how the attacks practically stopped after your diagnosis.
You took a few steps back, still trying to work through everything. Your love, a serial killer. But where you expected your heart to break and disgust to fill your veins you only seemed to love him more. The first two killings were of men who had only ever mistreated you. He had killed for you, to protect you and make your life easier.
“I want to go to hell.”
Saint Peter looked up, clearly confused.
“If he goes to hell, then so do I.”
The angel in front of you truly tried to talk you out of it, he did. But your mind was made up. And so, he sent you to hell.
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Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist
Master-Masterlist
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neighborlystudios · 2 days
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・﹒・ but you have history
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Summary: You were preparing your stall in the market as a florist when all the flowers suddenly disappeared from your home. A group arrived to help you find the culprit and you were forever gateful. But after getting stuck with the rabbit named Jax in a cage, he reveals something to you that shatters your world.
Warnings: 15+, existentialism, soft Jax
Pairing: Jax x NPC!reader
Notes: Sorry I like making Jax vulnerable. Also I never beta read have fun.
You angrily stared at the purple rabbit that got you into the current situation now- stuck in a cage, and with him nonetheless. How did you end up here? Well, after your flowers were stolen, a group of people arrived and promised they would get them back. After finding the culprit, you all chased them down. However, the thief put a trap down which led you and the rabbit to stepping on said trap and being lifted high in the air in a metal cage.
"You happy?" You snarked at the equally as upset rabbit. You were bad with names so you forgot his, but didn't care enough to ask for it again. Plus, he was rude to you first, so it was fair.
"Oh yeah, sure I'm happy. Of course I'm not happy! Ya know- if it wasn't for you running ahead we wouldn't be in this situation right now!" You couldn't believe his rudeness!
"Oh I'm the issue? How? What on Earth did I even do? Try and get my flowers back?" You both were basically screaming now, both angry at each other and the fact that you were both stuck in a cage.
"Oh please! I can't believe I'm arguing with a friggin' NPC..." N...pc? What did he just call you? The rabbit rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them up to rest his head on his forearms as he stared out
"What does NPC mean? If it was an insult that was a weird one I've never heard of before"
"You're fake, this whole world is fake, NPC means non-playable character" That made you still. Fake? Everything is fake? Lips wobbling, you shakily scooted over to him and grabbed him by his overalls and shook him. He had to be messing with you, there was no way your world was fake, no way.
"What you mean fake?' You yelled in anger, was he playing some kind of joke? Was he just trying to make you even more mad? He just let you shake him until he had enough and pulled away, pushing you slightly to gain some distance in the small space.
"Your life is all made up by zeroes and ones, computer code. You're not a real person, none of this is! Do you remember your mother? Your father? Anyone that doesn't exist in this village? Your first friend?" All his questions made you ready to argue back when it dawned on you that you didn't remember any of that. You couldn't even remember your parents' names, or faces, why couldn't you? Leaning back, you tried so hard to remember everything he asked you, yet, you couldn't answer a single one. Putting your hands over your head, you shrieked as he was right- everything was a lie. Tears quickly formed and you sobbed.
"So I'm not even real? Nothing is real?" You were breathing so heavily as the realization crashed onto you. But you just visited your mom last week! ....right? Oh no, what was happening? No, no, no, this can't be your life, you're real, you're real!
"Oh would you shut up?" You temporarily paused and looked up at him, gosh he was horrible. You slapped him in the arm, causing him to yelp and rub the area as he scowled at you.
"Oh, me shut up? Why does it matter? I'm fake right? So what does that make you? Aren't you fake too?" You were still sniffling as he sighed and rubbed his head.
"Because I've been trapped in this friggin' simulation for who knows how long. I was originally a human in the real world. This?" He then motions with his hand, waving around. "Is inside all a computer" You still felt on edge considering your whole life was a lie, but started to calm down.
"You mentioned this thing- computer- twice now. What is that?"
"Well, its a thing where you can have it do anything" You stared at him with your eyes wide, is that possible?
"Anything?" You whispered, in awe at what he said. Can it actually do anything? Well, considering it's possible of creating fake realities- then yeah, but that still just seemed impossible.
"Yep! Including your world. The AI that controls it makes these worlds to keep us busy. Its stupid" The rabbit wasn't looking at you now, he was staring outside the bars into what you now understood wasn't real, especially to him.
"Why busy? What happens if you're not busy?" The question caused his face to change, he looked almost...sad.
"Well, when we aren't kept busy and aren't kept sane uh...something called "abstraction" happens where we lose ourselves and become huge glitchy monsters. It's uh...not pretty" He looked so hurt as he curled in on himself, pained, like he wanted to cry. Slowly raising your hand, you rubbed it slowly against his back and couldn't help but feel like you wanted to comfort him. You may not have been real- but that didn't mean what you're experiencing right now isn't and couldn't help him.
"At least you don't have to worry about that stuff, you don't have to worry about your friends dying because they couldn't take it...haha. I mean, of course you'd go insane after being stuck in a world that isn't yours in a body that isn't yours and life is meaningless hahah" You knew he was hurting from his situation and still wasn't the kindest, but you still felt like you could make something out of this life, whatever it may be.
"But at least you have history, you have real memories. I...I don't. I learned that I only exist for you guys, ha...so what after this I'm just going to cease to exist? Is that it?" You decided to accept your fate- you weren't going to live anymore after this, you were going to die.
"That's the thing, NPC- every unlucky winner loses everything from the real world. Every single memory. It's so stupid!" He hit the bars, causing the cage to shake as you try and stable yourself from his anger. That made you feel sad as his anger was justified, but the excuse that your life was better because you were ignorant to your true nature.
"That's why my name is Jax. I couldn't remember it when I came here and everyone else doesn't even remember their friggin' name either. I mean, how cruel can life be?"
"Well, isn't it as equally cruel knowing that you're entire life was fake and made for someone else's entertainment without having any real memories of the past?" You didn't want to argue or fight back with him, but you had to funnel your anger out too while also proving his point right.
"I guess you're right"
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nekohime19 · 2 days
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Mini Mac #7 : When you're emotionally allergic brother have a crush
Let's go for some brotherhood shenanigans! I like writing in Azure pov, it's fun to see them struggling to understand SWK!
“Brothers, what would you do if you wanted to court someone?”
Azure spat his wine and coughed, strangled by his own drink. He saw, from the corner of his eyes, the rest of the brotherhood have similar reactions. Bull King was leaning on the table, folded on himself, his coughs shaking the table itself. Peng threw his glass at the Monkey King, persuaded he was some sort of evil spirit stealing his skin (of course Sun Wukong evaded it easily). Yellow-Tusk dropped his glass on his lap, mouth hanging in shock.
“You're alright, brother?” Asked Azure once he regained a semblance of calm.
“Yeah, why are you asking?” Chuckled the great sage as he stuffed his face with fruits, mainly peaches.
“Because you just asked for advice on courting!?” Answered Peng, indignation strong in his tone.
“What's weird about that?” Questioned the sage with a raised eyebrow.
“Everything!” Shouted the demonic bird.
“Brother, you're interested in someone?” Asked Yellow-Tusk, and this was what they were all curious about. Sun Wukong, the most emotional allergic monkey in the world, the one obsessed with peaches and warfare, the one who never bothered with common demonic traditions before, was interested in someone? It sounded unreal, Azure couldn't even fathom how his brother would be when in love. In all honesty, he thought his brother was the kind who couldn't feel this sort of thing, the kind to not have any sexual or romantic desire in their life.
“Why are you all so shocked? I talk about him all the time! Maybe your old ages are catching up with you, brothers.” Azure ignored the comment about his age (and how it was quite hypocritical of the centuries-old monkey to make jokes about one age) and focused on what was truly important : Sun Wukong had talked about the person he was interested in and said person was a him.
“You did mention someone while drunk, is this it ?” Asked Yellow-Tusk with furrowed eyes. Now that he thought of it, Azure remembered his brother gushing about someone in his drunken hours, but he never took it seriously. Sun Wukong was the type to gush about anything, really. He gushed about a particular shiny rock last week.
“Yeah! Maybe, I don't really remember. But I'm sure I talked about him!” Laughed the great sage with a beaming smile.
“And so you wish to court this person? How long did you two even know each other?” Asked Bull King while serving himself another glass of wine.
“A few months.” Nonchalantly answered Sun Wukong.
“Isn't it soon for initiating courtship then?” Questioned the lion with an indulgent smile, he knew his brother wasn't used to the ways of courtship, so he probably didn't know demons waited for at least a year of acquaintance before initiating any romantic advances. “Are you even sure of your feelings?” In all honesty, if his brother was really serious about this affair, Azure would gladly encourage him. But courtship was no light matter, and the lion wouldn't want his brother to embarrass himself or this mystery person to be hurt if the sage's feelings changed in the middle of the courtship. The brotherhood knew their littlest brother well-enough by now, his interest was usually a fickle thing, never staying in one place, always wandering.
Sun Wukong put down the peaches he was eating, something he rarely did, and narrowed his eyes in thought.
“What do you mean by that?” Asked the golden-furred monkey as he tilted his head.
“What Azure Lion means is that courtship is no laughing matter, brother.” Explained the Bull King. “We never saw you being interested in anyone before, so it is surprising news. You have to make sure you are indeed in love before initiating any sort of courtship.”
“Well then how do I make sure I'm in love?” Questioned the great sage, Azure winced at this question. Love was a rather difficult topic for war-driven beasts like them, he threw a glance at Yellow-Tusk (the most emotionally sensitive of them) and hoped he would have some kind of answer to offer.
“Love can be different depending on the person, it comes in all kinds of forms. You have to question yourself. Do you feel excited around him? Do you wish to see him often? What kind of thoughts do you have about him? Are you attracted to him? You have to sort out your feelings.” Answered Yellow-Tusk, as always the wisest among them.
“Just ask yourself if you like him like any shiny pebbles you always brag about or if you want to fuck him.” Added Peng while he took a new glass of wine.
“Does it really have to be sexual?” Sighed the sage with narrowed eyes, unbothered by the bird's rather crude words.
“Like I said, love can come in many different forms, it doesn't have to be sexual, but it is good to ask yourself if it is.” Replied the elephant.
“Okay, I get it. I mean I don't even know if we could have any intercourse, it wouldn't even fit.” Chuckled the great sage, Azure Lion raised an eyebrow at that, he knew his brother was shameless but this was rather crude compared to his usual humor.
“What, you think you're too big or something?” Snorted Peng, obviously mocking the golden-furred monkey for his outrageous confidence.
“Obviously I am.” Huffed Sun Wukong with the utmost seriousness, Peng choked on his glass and barked a laugh. “Do you even see me, Peng? I'm obviously too big for this.”
“I would prefer if we do not see how big you are, brother.” Winced Azure, not wanting this fest to turn into some dick-measuring contest. “How about you just make sure you're in love?”
“Yeah, I'll do that.” Shrugged the golden-furred monkey as he sat up and stretched. “In fact I'm gonna head back and see if he's still awake, maybe he'll want to see the moon again tonight.”
“Alright, stay safe, brother.” Called Azure as he watched the sage jump on his cloud.
“Who knew the Monkey King could be interested in courtship.” Huffed Peng once Sun Wukong disappeared from view.
“Truly surprising news.” Agreed the Bull King.
“I hope the person he's interested in will share his feelings.” Sighed the lion.
“Don't be such a worrywart, Azure. Even if he's a fool , I can admit this guy didn't gain his title of Handsome Monkey King for nothing, the man he's pining for will be at least intrigued by his good looks.” Replied the demonic bird as he rolled his eyes.
“That is true, in fact weren't you the one who was a bit infatuated with the simian when you first met?” Lightly teased the Bull King with a knowing smirk.
“We promised to never talk about this.” Groaned the lion. “I was young and easily swayed.”
“Fooled by appearances.” Snorted the bird. “I'm more intrigued about what this madman would do for courtship, and if it ends well, what kind of person could even love this chaotic mess.”
“It'll certainly be interesting to see.” Chuckled Yellow-Tusk.
+ memes
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++ cut scenes
SWK *at one brotherhood fest* : and I found this gray rock who reflected the light in such a way it made it look as if a rainbow was dancing on its surface! 🤩
Azure *with a tired smile* : That is impressive, brother. 😀
Bull King *at Yellow-Tusk* : how many rocks did he mention in the last hour? I lost count around five. 😑
Yellow-Tusk *at Bull King* : 45. 😐
Peng *after noticing there wasn't any wine left* : Just kill me already. 😩
Young Azure *looking at SWK playing with his monkeys* : He's such a benevolent King, truly responsible, and very handsome too. 🥰
Now Azure *looking at SWK throws up after drinking three sort of alcohol at the same time* : we will never talk about my crush on him ever again. 😩😐
SWK *after considering Peng suggestion of inrercourse a bit more* : But I think that if I used magic I could somehow make it work. I mean magic can do a lot of things, so I'm sure I could shrink myself to the size of a doll to do it. 🤔
DBK *baffled* : Why would anyone want to be the size of a doll during intercourse? 😳🤨
SWK : why wouldn't you be the size of a doll with someone like Macaque? You are weird if you keep your actual size during sexual endeavors. 🤨🙄
Peng : You're the weird one here, what the actual fuck? 😶😨
Azure : I don't even want to imagine what you would do with such a tiny size during sex. 😰
Yellow-Tusk : How about we change subjects? 😩😬
Azure : I didn't know you were gay, brother 🤔
SWK *thinking gay only means cheerful* : of course I'm gay, I'm always the life of the party! 😆
DBK : how is being the life of the party related to you being gay? 🤨
SWK : What are you saying? Of course you're gay if you're the life of the party, that's obvious. 😉
Yellow-Tusk : I wasn't aware of this rule... 😅
Peng : You're homosexuality aside- 🙄
SWK *Who has never felt like this for anyone beside Macaque and thus doesn't thinks himself as an homosexual* : I'm not homosexual. 😀
Azure :?? 🙃
DBK :?? 😐
Peng :??😩
Yellow-Tusk :??😑
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reblog-house · 3 days
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A Little Catching Up
Written for Hermit-a-day-May, day 12: Friends of Hermits. Or: Lizzie! ALSO written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 252, "Spill The Tea"
Wc: 1000
Ao3: Here!
It’d been a while since Lizzie last saw her husband in person, since he joined Hermitcraft. Good. That meant she was able to focus on other stuff that was on her mind. And it’s not like they never spoke, anyway.
At first, they called every day, but now it was every week or so, and every time she did, he had another story to tell. Apparently, there was something about… clones of himself? A murder mystery? A murder mystery about the clones of himself? Honestly, she stopped trying to disentangle that thing. She was happy not understanding and just hearing her husband ramble.
And then, Joel got the idea of traveling together in his brain — ‘To get some inspiration for my base, Lizzie’ — and she was more than willing to indulge him.
It was nice, getting to catch up properly, to spend some time together, before they each had to go to their respective servers. It was a much needed trip, and they got to see some very wonderful builds. She may not be pulling inspiration from it for her own creations, but she’d be lying if she said seeing all the views didn’t revitalize her a little.
It’d been less than a week since they parted ways and Lizzie was boiling a pot of tea when her phone rang. It was Joel.
“Hey babe,” she greeted, bringing the phone to her ear.
“Hey Lizzie, what are you doing right now?” He spoke very fast. “Because I want to tell you something weird and don’t want you to break something.”
“Eh, nothing special,” she said, and with her phone now supported by her shoulder, she picked up the kettle before it could whistle. “Hit me with it.”
“Remember how I told you Etho was obsessed with me?”
“Uh, duh.” She began pouring the liquid into her cup.
“Well, apparently there’s someone worse.”
“That’s possible?” She asked sarcastically. “Wow.”
“Lizzie. I came back to like seven love letters addressed to me, Lizzie. Seven anonymous love letters!”
Lizzie choked and her grip on the kettle got unsteady. It spilled a bit around the cup. “Oh, crap.” It could’ve fallen on her.
“I know, what the hell! And the worst part is, he was convinced we had something going on, because someone left a sign on his base pretending to be me!”
She openly laughed now, and set the kettle with a clank before the boiling water could drop on her. He continued his pleas.
“I’m married, Lizzie! To you! And when I told him I didn’t want anything to do with him that way, he sent me a poem. A poem, Lizzie!”
Lizzie was delighted. She picked the mug with both hands and walked to the living room with it as he spoke.
“Did he, now?” She sat back onto her favorite armchair and set the mug on the side table.
“And now!” He was quickly growing agitated. Not in a negative way. Joels needed some agitation for enrichment. An agitated Joel was a sign of a healthy husband. “The context is too complicated to explain, but now I’m stuck having to make an armor stand –”
“Oh, armor stands! Your shrine for me was adorable. And little you! Oh I could just squish his cheeks.”
“...Thank you Lizzie. Right. Now I have to make an armor stand of myself professing my love to him or whatever so he leaves me alone.”
“Ha! Oh Joel, only you.”
“Only me? Lizzie, have some compassion. I’m dying over here!”
“I don’t know…” She brought the mug to her face and checked the color. Still a couple more minutes before she could drink it. “That seems like a Joel problem to me.”
He groaned, and she could just imagine him covering his face with his hands in frustration. She loved seeing him suffer.
“Right, the worst wife. She doesn’t listen to my suffering. I’m doomed. I’m in pain and she doesn’t empathize.”
She laughed again. “Well, if I’m so horrible of a wife, I think it’s time to go, now! My tea will be ready any minute now.” And with the most cheerful of tones. “Bye Joel! Good luck with the number one fan!”
There was a little moment of silence, and when Joel spoke again, it was like he was a different person. All the acceleration left his voice and who remained was the man she’d know for most of her life, who she would take strolls along the beach with, who proposed to her, who she spent a wonderful time with on their most recent trip. 
“Bye babe. It was nice talking to you. It’s… it’s been a strange few days. I think the trip made me realize how much I missed you.”
She melted a little and didn’t try to hide it in her voice. “Oh, Joel. I can imagine. I miss you too. It’s been three months now, since you joined. Can you believe that?”
“And yet it sometimes feels like the first week. Like I’m still very new to it all. It’s so strange. How has time passed that fast but also so slow?”
“Something only the ruler of Stratos would know.”
“What- that… doesn’t make any sense. Why would I from-”
“I love you Joel.”
“Love you too, Lizzie. Right, I have some projects to be working on. Not the stupid statue. I’ll postpone that as much as possible. Maybe one day I can sneak you in so you could see how my base is coming along. See how the trip has helped me”
“I would like that. Just be careful of Xisuma noticing me!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll bring you in when he’s offline. Okay, bye now.”
“Bye!”
And like that, she ended the call.
It truly was nice to see him having fun on his new server and making new friends. If unwanted love letters counted as a new friend. She chuckled to herself. The situations that man got himself into, sometimes…
But she loved him all the same.
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