#and they’ve turned into comfort characters for me

[lovebugism]

hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈

i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)

You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.

Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.

You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.

“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”

Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 

A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”

“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”

Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 

Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.

You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.

Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.

You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”

The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”

He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 

He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.

“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”

“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”

“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”

You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.

“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”

Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.

He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.

It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.

“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.

You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”

“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 

“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”

You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 

“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.

“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.

“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”

Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.

It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 

But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.

“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 

Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”

The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.

“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.

Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.

His excitement makes you regret your answer. 

“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”

The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.

You nod once. “Sure.”

He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.

You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.

You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”

His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.

You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”

You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.

He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 

“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”

“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”

“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”

“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”

Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.

“Eddie,” he finishes for you.

“…Eddie.”

“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”

You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”

Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 

“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”

Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.

“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “mix of random dialogue and non-dialogue, smut and non-smut” prompts

“I’m a mess because of you.” “You’re my mess.” “I’m… I’m your mess.” (FUCKING HELLO BITCH DO NOT- WLKFNFKLN I’ll get on my knees for you, my love—)

“That’s my baby girl/baby boy.” (Can he just— HEWOQKNFWKELNF) 

“You look so hot like that.”

“God, you turn me on so much.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna come—” Character B whimpers, hips bucking into Character A’s. “Mm, yeah? Then come for me,” Character A murmurs, stroking their fingers through Character B’s hair. (The noises he made as he came undone were SO FUCKING HOT BYE. those WHIMPERS?? FUCKING DELICIOUSSSSS LET ME HEAR MORE OF THEM, I BEG- ALSO WHO KNEW I HAD IT IN ME TO SAY THAT TO SOMEONE LMFAO, “then come for me” WQBHRELWJKNEWF BITCH. GET OUTTT-)

Those sweet little noises Character B tries so hard to suppress but is unable to as they come undone.

“I’m such a fucking wreck right now…”

“Imagine how good I’d feel inside of you.” (FUCKIFKSKSKKSKSKS WHEN HE SAID THAT AND I WAS LIKE LKENFKLEWNF-)

“I love you so much,” Character B murmurs, hugging Character A closer to them. (🥹🥹🥹 HE SAID IT HE SAID IT HE SAID ITTT 😭 He’s said it over text before but now it’s in person and I’m actually gonna WEEP EWKLNFWEEFN)

“I love you for you, and I’m going to continue to love you. I’ll always love and support you no matter what,” Character B reassures after Character A spills out their anxieties and worries to them about a situation they’ve been so, so scared to tell them about; scared of how Character B would react. (…I’m just going to say I love this man so much.) 

“When I first met you, I didn’t know you were like this,” Character A murmurs, slowly grinding their hips down against Character B’s. Character B grins up at them, hands wrapped around their thighs, squeezing gently. “Yeah, and I didn’t know I was like this, either. And I thought you were shy when I first met you... Now look at you, huh?” 

Character A not knowing how sensitive their breasts are until Character B pays full attention to them with their mouth. (…I WILL NOT SAY ANYTHING ELSE BUT FUCK YES—) 

Character A tearing up as they try to be vulnerable with Character B, and Character B reassuring them by telling them they can take their time and it’s okay if they can’t say it right now; that they can say it when they’re ready. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so enamoured by someone,” Character A murmurs, caressing Character B’s face. (I’M A POETIC SIMP, WHAT CAN I SAY—) 

“Fuck, why are you— Mmh— why are you doing this to me?”

“We can take things as slow as you want. I want you to be comfortable, and as long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.”  (PLEASE WJDJJS IM CRYING AHH, how’d I get someone so sweet sjkdms)

“We can rent a hotel somewhere… You can be as loud as you want then, hm?” (HE’S JUST FUCKING OUT HERE, YOUR HONOUR!!) 

“Fuck me,” Character A whimpers as Character B’s hips picks up with speed. “I could if you wanted me to,” Character B grunts. (SIR- FUCK OFF ISTFGGG)

Character B placing their hand on Character A’s thigh while they’re sitting down.

Character B wrapping their arm around Character A’s shoulders and pulling them closer to them, letting Character A rest their head on their shoulder.

Character B leaning in for a kiss and Character A shyly leaning in to give them a quick peck on the lips. 

“Whatever I do, I’ll always be adorable to you, won’t I? Even if I do the most heinous shit known to mankind—” “Yes. Yes, you’ll always be adorable to me.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna close the blinds? People outside could see us…” “Trust me, they won’t.” (this FUCKING GUY, but I guess he wasn’t wrong after I took a closer look at the blinds—) 

“You’re enjoying yourself up there, aren’t you?” Character B teases, watching through hooded lids as Character A rides them while clothed. “Does it look like I am?” Character A questions, breathless. 

“You just… You make me happy.” (YOU DO TOO, MY LOVE <333) 

“You’ve always been so caring and supportive of me so I don’t know why I doubted you… I’m sorry.” 

Character A being ticklish on their neck whenever Character B plants soft feather like kisses there, so Character B plants even more soft kisses there, turning Character A into a giggling mess. 

Kisses on the eyelids. (The softest shit EVER)

“Didn’t realise your objective was to get into my pants all this time,” Character B teases, and Character A rolls their eyes, a breathless laugh leaving them. “You know that’s not true. I think you’re the one who has the objective of getting into my pants,” Character A throws back. Character B shakes their head with a chuckle. “That’s not true.”

“How are we gonna manage being away from each other for a whole month?” Character A murmurs softly. “Mmmh, we’ll somehow manage,” Character B reassures, stroking their fingers through Character A’s hair.

“How are you going to manage without this for a whole month?” Character B questions as Character A grinds down on them. “I don’t think I fucking will is the thing,” Character A admits, unabashedly.

Character B moving Character A’s hair out of their face to plant gentle kisses on their face.

Character B laying their head on Character A’s stomach and Character A fondly saying to them, “You’re such a baby,” while carding their fingers through their hair.

Character B snuggling up next to Character A, post-orgasm. (SIRRRR- PEHFLKEWNELKWNF) 

Character A moaning Character B’s name and Character B losing their self-restraint over it. (Maybe I did it on purpose to turn him on—)  

#long post #tried adding comments under the “keep reading tag” as footnotes but that didn't work out very well so here we are e;lfgmlr;emf #based on personal experience HEHEHAHAGAHA #im running out of names for these lists ffs #cat guy chronicles #just realised a lot of this is smutty than not-smutty lmfao #smut prompts #suggestive prompts #dialogue prompts #fluff prompts #otp prompts #writing scenarios #writing prompts

[steddieas-shegoes]

not so different

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘graduation’

rated t | 994 words | cw: mention of past character death, mention of alcohol, language | tags: childhood friends, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, good uncle Wayne Munson

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington didn’t cry, not even when he fell off the slide at the playground and his knee bled for 15 minutes and his nanny had to call his mom.

But this was a special instance where he was allowed to be sad. His nanny even said so. He watched all the kids in his kindergarten class taking pictures with their moms and dads, uncles and aunts, grandpas and grandmas, and wondered why he didn’t have anyone here for him.

He found an empty classroom in the big kid hall as soon as the ceremony was done, sat behind the teacher’s desk, and cried into his knees.

“Did your daddy not show up either?” A voice asked from in front of him.

He lifted his head, vision blurry and face wet, to see Eddie.

Eddie had already done kindergarten once, but he had trouble with his phonics, so they kept him behind. He was the first kid to talk to Steve in class, but within a few days, Tommy and Carol and Heather had scared him away from Steve entirely.

“Um, no.”

“What about your mama?”

“She’s with my dad.”

“My mama is with God. Or that’s what a lot of people say. I dunno if she was friends with him or not, though. I think she just got buried in the ground and people are scared to tell me,” Eddie was sitting next to Steve now, his leg knocking against Steve’s.

Eddie didn’t sit still very well, and the teacher always said he had ants in his pants. Steve hoped he didn’t have them in there now; he didn’t want any ants on him.

“Where’s your dad?”

“He’s probably getting ‘rested again. He showed up being silly and my Uncle Wayne had to take him outside,” Eddie shrugged.

“Is he tired?” Steve asked, sniffling and leaning more against Eddie.

“No. Uncle Wayne says sometimes he has too much of the drinks in the bottles I’m not allowed to touch and it makes him act like he don’t got a brain,” Eddie didn’t sound that sad, but Steve still wanted to hug him. “So your daddy isn’t here?”

“No. I think he forgot.”

“Sorry he forgot. My Uncle Wayne never forgets. He even came to the lunch room for my birthday. He brought me a piece of pizza!” Eddie always sounded more excited than anyone else. Most of the kids in the class thought it was stupid, but Steve kind of liked the way his eyes got wide and his smile got so big it took up most of his face. “Maybe he can bring you a piece for your birthday next year.”

“He doesn’t even know me.”

“You can come meet him!”

The classroom door opened just as Eddie started to stand and reach for Steve’s hands to pull him up.

“There ya are, Ed! Been lookin’ everywhere. You want some ice cream?” An older man stood by the door, button up plaid shirt only half-tucked into his jeans.

“Can we bring Steve? He’s my friend.”

Steve’s head turned, shocked that Eddie would say that.

“We gotta ask his parents first, Ed.”

“His parents didn’t come.”

“Oh.” The man looked Steve up and down before seemingly settling on something. He gave a small smile and gestured for him to come closer. “What’s your favorite flavor, then?”

“I dunno. Never had anything except vanilla,” Steve admitted, afraid to look at the man who had to be Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.

“Well, that just won’t do, will it? Let’s go try every flavor at the diner. Benny just added a few new ones. Think there’s even a bubblegum one.”

Eddie clapped his hands and dragged Steve out the door by his arm.

“I bet you’ll like mint chip,” he said as Wayne followed behind them, fond smile on his face.

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington had only cried a few times in his life, but this was the second time it was happening in front of Eddie.

Eddie wasn’t conscious this time, though.

“If you wake up, I’ll take you to the diner and we can have ice cream. They’ve got a new raspberry white chocolate flavor that you’d like. I could use some mint chip right now,” Steve said around the tears.

Wayne had left the hospital an hour ago to freshen up and grab one of his crossword puzzle books. Steve had been crying for most of that hour, holding Eddie’s hand and quietly begging him to wake up.

Two days without hearing his voice or watching his smile light up the room was too long, especially after having it for the last 13 years.

“How’re you gonna walk at graduation if you’re still asleep here, huh?” Steve closed his eyes and wiped at his cheeks.

“You can walk with me.”

Steve’s head shot up at Eddie’s quiet, but surprisingly strong voice.

“Eddie!”

“Hey, Stevie. Heard you’re takin’ me for ice cream,” Eddie’s smile was crooked, the bandage on his cheek covering one of his dimples.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for Eddie being awake, being alive, being okay.

“Yeah, Eds. Every day if you want,” Steve wanted to crawl into the bed with him, hold him close and feel him breathing and listen to his heartbeat, be sure he was there.

“Gonna hold you to that.”

“Soon as you can leave, that’ll be our first stop. Promise.”

Eddie closed his eyes, but the smile remained on his face. “You slept?”

“A bit.”

“So no.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “A bit.”

“C’mere.”

“Honey, you’re hurt-“

“Come here.”

Steve got in bed slowly, making sure he kept space between himself and Eddie’s injuries.

“Think I’ll graduate?”

Steve snorted. “They’d be stupid to hold you back after you saved everyone.”

“Yeah. ‘M a hero. Fuck Hawkins High.”

Steve could feel more tears trickle down his cheeks, but these were different.

These were relieved tears, happy tears.

“Yeah, honey. Fuck them.”

“Love you, though.”

“Love you so much.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #graduation #childhood friends #friends to lovers #wayne munson #hurt/comfort

[skzstannie]

“They hate me”

SKZ Drabble

Ot8 x insecure! 9th member! Reader

TW: none?? If you see something, lmk

Hi everyone! This is my first work on here, and I’m excited for more to come! I’d like to start off by saying this in no way represents SKZ/Yunho in real life; they are simply face claims for the characters.

Please comment or interact in some way so I know how you guys liked it!

“Yunho,” you sobbed, curling into his side from your spot on the couch, “they hate me.”

“Sweetheart, they don’t hate you. I can assure whatever you could’ve done could not make them hate you.” He tries to sooth your shaking form by running his hand through your hair, but you abruptly sit up.

“How do you know that? I was messing up all the choreo last night, and Chan had to re-record my lines for the new song 7 times.” You hold up seven fingers to add a bit of emphasis. “And 7 times is a lot. And then to top it off, I threw up in the practice room because of how anxious I was feeling about it all,” you finish.

“Why does any of that warrant them hating you? So what, you made a few mistakes. I’m sure they’ve all messed up the choreography before, too.” He brings you back into his side by wrapping his long arm around your shoulder. “As for you getting sick, how are you supposed to control that?”

“You should’ve seen them, though. They all had steam coming out of their ears. I don’t even think the 7th recording was any good, but Chan just couldn’t stand to deal with me anymore so he sent me out of the booth. Lee Know looked like he was gonna rip his hair out if he had to correct me one more time, and I could feel the looks from everyone during the whole dance practice.”

“Did you ask them about these things before you left? Or did you just leave yourself to deal with these awful assumptions about the people who love you endlessly?”

“I left right after I got sick, never even told them where I was going,” you huff.

Once you’ve said it out loud, you realize how royally stupid you’ve been, and you immediately jump out of Yunho’s arms to find your phone. “Shit, have you gotten any calls or messages from the guys? I’ve probably worried them sick.” You wrestle around with the contents of your bumbag til you found your, evidently dead, phone. You fumble with your charger before hurrying to the kitchen to plug it in.

“No, I haven’t. Nobody really knows about… us, or this thing going on between us, so I wouldn’t have expected them to.” He gets up from the couch and walks to stand behind you, peering over your shoulder at your phone.

“Come on, come on, turn on you stupid thing.” You repeatedly press the power button, only getting the low battery symbol in return. Your heart’s beating out of your chest with anxiety as your phone finally starts to boot up. “I’m literally an awful person. They’ve probably just about raided the whole city trying to find me.”

“Maybe not, they might still be calm and figured you just needed a night to collect yourself.”

With that, your phone comes alive, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the buzzing of missed calls and unanswered text messages.

17 missed calls from Channie 🤞🏻❤️

11 missed calls from Leebit 🐰

20 messages from BinBin 😘

15 missed FaceTime calls from Hyune 🫶🏻🫶🏻

11 messages from Jisung 🐿️

37 messages from Sunshine ☀️

24 messages from Menace 🙃🙂

13 messages from Innie 🦊

“Oh my gosh,” you gasp. The longer you stare, the more messages flood your lock screen.

“It’s alright, don’t panic. Just give Chan a call, I’m sure they’ll understand.” He rests his chin on your shoulder and hugs you from behind, trying to provide you comfort. “Or they’ll come around eventually, anyway,” he mumbles under his breath.

You’re quick to find Chan’s contact, and you immediately press the ‘call’ button. You put it on speaker phone, not wanting to be alone in this conversation. “You don’t have to say anything; I just feel more comfortable this way,” you explain, not wanting to unnecessarily drag Yunho into this conversation.

“Y/n! We’ve been calling you all night and looking for you everywhere! Where the heck are you? We’re coming to get you right now,” you hear Chan fidgeting with keys before he yells to Hyunjin, telling him to come to the car.

You sigh before relenting and apologizing for being so irresponsible. “I’m so sorry I worried you guys like that, just another thing I’ve messed up.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about, but we’ll talk about it more when you’re home safe. Now, where are you?” You hear the desperation in his tone. He just wants to know you’re safe.

You realize the slight predicament you’ve come to, and glance up at Yunho, but he just shrugs his shoulders at you.

“I’m, uh, at Yunho’s?” It comes out as more of a question, and you hear a squeal from the other side of the phone.

“What the heck are you doing with Yunho?” Hyunjin screeches, seemingly grabbing the phone from Chan’s grasp.

“That’s enough, Hyunjin. We’ll be right there.” He promptly hangs up, leaving you to anxiously await their arrival.

“Why Hyunjin now? Why not literally anyone else?” Yunho slightly panics, pacing around the kitchen in circles.

“What’s wrong between you and Hyunjin?” You raise an eyebrow, suddenly interested in this new information.

“We don’t really have any bad blood, per sé, or at least I don’t think we do. He’s always giving me dirty looks and I don’t really know why.”

While you wait for Chan and Hyunjin to arrive, you explain to him not to worry about Hyunjin.

You and Hyunjin have always been the closest out of all the members since the very beginning, and he quickly became extremely protective of you. You told him about some of your past traumas, and he made it his personal mission in life to never let anything bad happen to you again. This apparently entails him giving every male you’ve ever interacted with dirty looks.

Speaking about this makes you feel even guiltier knowing Hyunjin has probably been out of his mind since last night, hence why Chan wanted him to go with.

You hear a pounding on the door that breaks up your story time, and you rush over to open it, leaving Yunho hiding in the kitchen.

Chan bursts through the door, with a fiery looking Hyunjin right behind him.

Chan gathers you in his arms, holding you so tight you think all your ribs might crack. You wrap your arms around him, too, holding him with all your might.

When Hyunjin storms in, all he sees is red. “Where is he, huh?” He goes straight for the kitchen, and you tense in Chan’s arms.

“Hyunjin, he did nothing wrong. I came to him last night. Please just, take a deep breath.” You know it’s wrong to try to console him, after all, you’re the reason he’s like this in the first place.

“Why weren’t you answering our calls or messages? Did he take your phone? Did he have you trapped somewhere?” He rants, his hands clenching in tight fists.

You unintentionally gasp, thinking about how horrible this must sound to Yunho knowing he could hear every word. “Hyunjin!” You yelp, “nothing bad happened to me here! My phone was dead, and I was a crying mess all night and didn’t even look to charge it.” You exasperate, pulling away from Chan to go comfort him.

He meets you halfway, meeting you just in front of the coffee table in the living room. He puts his hands on your shoulders, closely inspecting every inch of your skin. You grab his hands and wrap them around yourself in a hug, squeezing him tightly.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’m sorry for disappearing like that. It was really dumb of me. I just needed somewhere to clear my head, and Yunho was the first person I thought of.” You rest your head on his shoulder, loving the feeling of the way he was soothingly rubbing your back.

“Why’d you come all the way here? The guys and I were right with you in the practice room; you know we’ll listen to you any day.” He pulls away slightly, enough to bring one of his hands to your cheek, wiping a stray tear away.

“Because I was scared you guys were upset with me.” You mumble, shying away from his gaze.

“What on earth made you think that? We were so worried about you all day yesterday, wondering why you weren’t acting yourself. And then when you ran off, we had no idea where to look. Had no idea what was wrong.” Chan joined the hug, pressing his face warmly into the back of your hoodie.

“I thought because I was messing up so much yesterday, you all hated me. I saw the looks everyone was giving me. You’re trying to tell me they weren’t looks of annoyance?” You question. Pulling away from them both so you could better have the conversation.

“They weren’t looks of annoyance, well, maybe Seungmin’s was, but you know how he is. They were looks of concern, we couldn’t figure out what was going through that pretty head of yours. We were not upset with you. We’re all aware everyone has bad days, you were bound to have one eventually.” Chan explains, feeling sorry that you’ve had these awful thoughts since last night.

“I’m really sorry I worried you guys. Next time I’ll talk to you before I rush to conclusions.” You give them a shy smile before, once again, you’re pulled into a hug and squished between the 2 of them.

“It’s ok, we forgive you. Now, let’s get you home before the rest of the guys drive over here themselves.” Chan grabs your hand and starts to lead you to the door, but Hyunjin stops you guys.

“I still wanna know why, of all places, you came and spent the night at Yunho’s,” he raises an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms. You hear a cough from the kitchen, and you call Yunho out to the living room to officially introduce him as your boyfriend.

“I’ll tell you two, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else.” You wait for them to give you a nod, squinting your eyes at Hyunjin until he gives in with a huff. “Yunho and I are dating.”

Yunho finally reveals himself from the kitchen and you wrap your arms around his arm. He gives them a tight-lipped smile, not entirely sure how they’re going to take it.

Their eyes get really big, surely not expecting that kind of news. “Why’d you never tell us?” Chan pouts, looking between the two of you. Hyunjin stays silent.

“Because I wasn’t sure how you guys would take it. It’s only been a couple of weeks.” Chan nods his head in understanding before stating that it’s time for you guys to head home.

You give Yunho a hug, and he kisses you on the cheek before you follow Chan out the front door.

You don’t miss, however, the way Hyunjin stays behind for a moment.

“Don’t hurt my best friend.” He says with a stoic expression on his face. He gives Yunho another once over before leaving the house, closing the door behind him.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz ot8 #stray kids 9th member #stray kids fluff #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #bang chan #yunho #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #skz drabbles #stray kids drabbles #stray kids oneshot #skz oneshots

[ghostmaldo]

(✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾Demon Slayer Headcannons: Will you hold this for me? (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾

In which (Y/n) asks them to hold something and then proceeds to place their hand into their S/O ^^. I read this prompt yeeears ago for ffxv and I just thought it was the cutest thing and I’ve never seen it again after that. So heres what I think the demon slayers characters reactions would be. Can be read and friendly or platonic.

With: Rengoku, Giyuu Tengen+Makio,Suma,And Hina, Shinobu,Sanemi and Gyomei

No warnings, full fluff. We’re goanna ignore cannon for the sake of the imagine. Except for Obanai and Mitsuri, I very much love their relationship and have chosen to not write about them. Kay? Kay!

I’ll do a part 2 with the demon moons + Muzan because this took waaaay to long to do wah-

Ask box open 💙

Playlist I listened to while I wrote this: https://youtu.be/bPzqW_dU2Gk?si=jLI9L0vgH0Q3VYT7

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Rengoku: Rengoku and (Y/N) were out and about in the nearest village. Visiting several different shops during their free time while they could enjoy it. Currently, Rengoku eyes were glued to a menu displayed outside a newly built restaurant. Completely enraptured by the tasteful dishes displayed on the board. (Y/N) approached behind him, a small shopping back in one of their hands. Maybe if Rengoku hadn’t been so distracted, they might have seen the playfulness pulling on their lips.

“Rengoku, will you hold something for me?”

Oblivious to the gleeful child-like smile on their face, he offered them their hand without even so much as blinking or moving his eyes away from the menu. His mind a preoccupied about the different variations of food that made his stomach grumble. Though those thoughts were briefly pushed to the back of his mind when he felt something warm slot between his fingers.

“Hmm?” Rengoku hummed, blinking a few times as he shifted his gaze over to his hand. We’re he found (Y/n) hand comfortably placed into his. “Haha!” He boasted loudly, smile growing twice as large as it already was. “A delightful one you are! Say it’s about lunch time. Shall we try this new restaurant, everything sounds so wonderful!” He exclaimed. Raising his hands while still clasping (Y/N) hand snug with his. If Rengoku had a tail it would most certainly be wagging right.

Overall: Rengoku’s find your antic amusing and most welcomed. He happily pulls (Y/N) into the restaurant hand in hand. Only letting go once they’ve settled down for a meal.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Giyuu: A similar situation to Rengoku, with the two wondering around a village mostly just for fun. However, its hard to tell exactly what Giyuu had his gaze fixated upon. His frozen solid in the middle of the crowd with a ten mile stare between two booths. His ocean eyes were somewhere lost in a unforeseen storm. People moved around the silent man, pardoning themselves if they ran into him on accident.

It took some time for (Y/N) to locate him after they’d gone to retrieve an item of interest. A shopping bag swinging with the rhythm of their legs while they waved a cheerful greeting. One that went ignored, though it wasn’t on purpose. They were about to call to Giyuu again when the words died in their throat. A mischievous glaze running over their eyes.

“Giyyyuuu, will you hold something for me?” This time, the question stuck to Giyuu. He turned their head slowly upon them. His eyes immediately pointing to the bag in their hand. He exhaled a gentle breath, extending his hand out for what he thought would be the bag in his hand. He jolted a bit when he instead sensed the familiar warmth of (Y/N) palm along his. He became at a lost of words, unsure what to make of this situation.

(Y/n) let out a light chuckle at his reaction. ‘Typical Giyuu’, they thought. Eventually they’ll tug them forward in the direction they want to go next. Though Giyuu still hasn’t said anything, nor had he pulled away. If (Y/n) attempts to let go of his hand, unsure if the action was welcomed. Giyuu will simply tighten his hold on them. “It’s fine.” He speaks blatantly, though if (Y/n) looks close enough… theres a light dust of pink on his cheeks.

Overall: A little embarrassed at first, but accepts his fate and will continue to hold (Y/n) unless something requires for him to let go permanently.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Tengen: Well first off you need a step ladder- Kidding, short of, anyway! (Y/N), Tengen and his three wives are out enjoying a late night festival. Theres good food, drinks, and fireworks to occupy them for the night. (Y/n) sits with Makio, Suma, and Hina snacking on some sort of festival foods. They’ve shared this little ‘idea’ with the girls and the three of them found the idea delightful. Gossiping among themselves if Tengen would become flustered by the idea and mostly by who.

“I think (Y/N) should do it! Master Tengen has had a soft spot for them lately!” Makio pokes a little fun at them, the other two girls chiming in with eager smiles and some harmless laughter. It does take some convincing, but eventually (Y/N) does surrender to the girls persuasion. And just in time for Tengen to rejoin the group. (Y/n) nearly leaps to their feet, running over to him exicdently. The three girls watch gleefully at the show they’re about to recieve.

“Tengen! I need you to hold something for me!” He quirks a brow, eyeing them up and down suspiciously. “You aren’t holding anything.” He replied with a playful smirk on his lips. “Just trust me! Pleeease?” They flash their puppy dog eyes at him and Tengen finds himself in a bind. How was he supposed to fight against puppy dog eyes?

Cautiously he holds out his hand. Jewelry catching the warm light bouncing off the cities lanterns. Nervously, (Y/) places their hand into Tengen massive palm. His fingers wrap around theirs and nearly swallows them up whole. Looking back at him, he smiled smuggly. “Is that all you wanted? You could have just asked!”

Que the girls squealing lovingly in the back ground and them ambushing everyone into a hug and wanting to take turns holding Tengen and (Y/N) hands~

Overall: Well, its seems Tengen made (Y/N) blush instead of the other way around. But its was still worth the shot and the girls thought it was absolutely adorable ^^

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Shinobu: It’s a busy day at the butterfly estate. A particular mission had sent back several members of the demon slayer members back to her abode with blooded limbs. Once taking care of the injured slayers, she sat neck deep in paperwork inside her office. Going over several discharge papers and other things she’d fallen behind on. The scratching of her pen was the only sound in the room aside from the occasional curse escaping her lips.

(Y/N) walked in with a cup of warm tea in hand. Knowing very well Shinobu needed a little break from the chaos that had been their shared morning. They knew it would be impossible to pull her away from her work, not when so many still needed attending too. Still… they had a small shroud of an idea that may pull Shinobu from her thoughts for even just a few minutes. The poor girl deserved that much.

“Shinobu.” They called out kindly. Setting the cup of tea on the table next to her. Her movement faltered for second, her keen eyes shifting to the cup of tea, then directly back to her paper work. “Yes (Y/N)?” She responded nearly all too sweetly for what she really felt on the inside. “I- I made you some tea.”

“I see that.” She cut through them quickly, though they knew she didn’t mean malice by it. Now or never-

“Will you hold something for me, Shinobu?” Her pen movements halted all together, a long breath escaping through her nostrils. In a swift motion she set her pen on the desk calmly. Turning her attention toward them and extending her hand out toward them. ‘Tread carefully (Y/N)!’ They told themselves to try and gain some confidence back from her cry reaction.

Before they lost their nerve, (Y/N) quickly placed their hand into hers. Snuggly wrapping her fingers around Shinobu’s hand. This seemed to take her back a moment, her eyes flickering back at forth between their face and their now intertwined hands. She sighed, her shoulders dropping in surrender. “Alright, alright, only a few minutes. Then I must complete these discharges.” She spoke firmly, but an inkling of a smile danced at the corner of her lips. (Y/N) agreed eagerly, happily keeping a hold of Shinobu’s hand while she sipped on her warm tea.

Overall: A smidge annoyed, but appreciates the effort. Might bring it up later in private conversation. Personally I think she’d have the softest hands of the bunch.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sanemi: I had to really think about this one and his probably a little ooc but I still did my best- Lo and behold, Sanemis is practically stomping through the compound clearly aggravated about something. When isn’t he- (Y/N) catches him out of the corner of their eye and quickly excuses themselves from their current conversation. They’re fully aware Sanemi’s in a sour mood. Even so, it didn’t deter them from their destination. The moment (Y/N) was in Sanemi’s line of sight, a low growl vibrated from him. “What do you want?”He snapped immediately.

(Y/N) gave a shy wave and greeting. Wondering in the back of their mind if this was a really good idea-

“Would you hold something for me?”

“Huh?” He brow raised and his mouth hung open.

“I-I said would you please hold something for me?”

He scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. They stood their looking at each other for a few second before he reluctantly stuck out his hand. “I swear if you put something wet in my hand-“

A blush instantly blossoms on the man’s face when they slip their hand into his. He allowed it at first, even as the heat creeps onto his face. However, once he realizes whats happening he retracts his hand and turns away from them. Hiding his crimson cheeks. “Idiot, what was that for!”He screamed and (Y/n) can’t help themselves but go into a giggling fit.

Overall: Highly annoyed and flustered at the same time Xp

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Gyomei: It’s a peaceful morning with Gyomei. Sitting on the mountain side with the river lulling the birds nearby. They sat together along the tree’s, basking in the tranquility. It was often the pair found themselves like this. Seeking the moments where the world seemed to stand still. One craved those moments when a world such as theirs existed with nothing but constant violence.

Which was why (Y/N) had come up with the idea they were about to execute. They redirected their gaze to the man sitting a few feet away from them, admiring the features of his face and how he sat in prayer. Though, the second their eyes landed on him, his head perked up to look at them. “Gyomei, will you hold something for me?”

His expression never moved, yet, he nodded, slowly extending his large muscular hand toward them. The beads on his hand softly clanking against one another in the process. Their hand (Much like Tengen) was completely swallowed by his large hand. It seemed to take him a moment to realize what he was holding. The pad of his thumb running alongside (Y/N) cold knuckles.

“Oh.” The word was barely auditable and seemingly the only comment Gyomei came up with. They were almost worried they’d crossed a boundary… then the tears began to cascade over hid face. “How sweet. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Overall: Now your both crying

#rengoku x y/n #rengoku imagines #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #giyuu x reader #giyuu x you #tengen x reader #tengen x y/n #tengen x you #tengen x wives x reader #Makio #Suma #Hina #shinobu x reader #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #sanemi headcanons #gyomei x reader #giyuu tomioka #Demon slayer #Demon Slayer imagine #Demon slayer imagines #uzui tengen #shinobu kocho #sanemi shinaguzawa #gyomei himejima #Maldo writes #anime #fanfic #fan fictions

[hana-no-seiiki]

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ FIVE STAGES OF YANDERE ࿐: HERO

“𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃.”

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere/tsundere! modern hero x villain! reader

✧ status: unedited

✧ tw/cw: yandere themes, violence, morally dubious reader, horny hero, tsundere hero.

✧ a/n: both character’s genders are up to your imagination. also i’m making this my permanent theme now for general yans fics (consistency/recognizabilty’s sake)

[series masterlist]

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE ONE. ✧ DENIAL

“You’re getting a bit sloppy aren’t you, lil hero?”

“Shut up, wretched being! C-Come back here!”

You and Yandere! Hero have been nemeses for what felt like lifetimes. Ever since you became a sidekick as a kid, up until the present time as adults.

You saw them as a sibling. You’d fight once in a while but neither truly hurt each other. In fact, you never once attempted to kill them, and they in turn never attempted to put you behind bars. The cycle always repeated.

You were relatively close in terms of power. More times than not, things would end up being a tie where the two of you would be too tired to continue. But recently your cutie patootie hero has been getting sluggish. Their attacks lacked any sort of vigour, and their reflexes dulled.

You would offer to talk and assist them, but another one of your hidden rules in this relationship of sorts was that you two would never interfere with life outside of crime and fighting thereof.

Unbeknownst to you, Yandere! Hero fought another villain (cheater!) whose powers were related to nightmares and fears.

Their greatest nightmare . . . was losing their status as a hero — losing you.

You have been such a huge part of their formative years and beyond that the thought of even retiring and losing contact scared the hell out of them. The idea of never being able to banter as you sparred, the concept of losing sight of that smug grin of yours on the times you won, and the very notion of you being dealt with by someone else — their chest would tighten to the point of being unable to breathe.

But they always shook their head, drowned themself in tasks as to avoid the anxiety that threatened their focus. After all, you were a villain. A monstrous creature that have hurt and killed people. The only reason they haven’t taken you down yet was because they were instructed by their predecessor not to.

Yeah, the fear of losing you? Probably just an extension of their desperate and zealous view on their position as a hero

They prayed it was.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE TWO. ✧ ANGER

“I told you that they were mine to take care of! You gave me this duty!”

“You and I both know you’ve been losing your fights more often than not. Look at how many people they’ve started to hurt again! I can’t leave you with a responsibility you, can’t, handle.”

Yandere! Hero couldn’t believe their ears. Everything they feared was starting to come true and it was only getting worse.

They started disobeying their mentor/predecessor’s commands. Commands that they used to referees — worship even. They knew they were making things go from trash to absolute shit, but they couldn’t care less anymore.

So what if you hurt those people? From what they understood, those people were a bunch of assholes at best; Crime-lords, all types of traffickers, and violent thugs. In fact, the very reason you aren’t in cuffs was because you often took justice into your own hands. You were just quite cruel and brutal when it came down to it.

One of their more unforgettable moments of you together was the time you saved them from another villain. You in your blood-soaked glory as you grinned, an attempt to comfort them while they neck-deep in voices that screamed failure. They were barely hurt while you could barely stand, yet you were the one hushing them as you rubbed circles on the small of their back. Shared whispers they’ll die before they talk of it to anyone else.

Yandere! Hero keeps meeting you again and again. Doing duties they were already forbidden from completing and abusing the favor of being a sidekick for so long.

Things get from worse to oblivion when they get news of being replaced.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE THREE. ✧ BARGAINING

“At least let me accompany them on patrols! What if they get hurt?”

“You worked alone just fine.”

“That is an entirely different story!”

This newbie didn’t know you for several years. This newbie never experienced fighting you much less alongside you. You would eat them alive.

Granted, it would be the newbie’s fault for being so incompetent but they digress.

While on patrol with the newbie, they do their best to sabotage them in every way they can. Giving them the wrong intel, alerting the enemy of their arrival if they do figure out the proper location, and above all making sure you two never cross paths at all. A peer of theirs hurting you would kill them.

Of course, with their frantic and frankly stressed out mind, it wasn’t long before you and the newbie encounter one another.

And, the two of you got along quite well. Your moves like a beautifully choreographed routine in the battlefield. More importantly, it looked as if you were having so much fun.

They really couldn’t help themself

When they stepped in and interrupted the two of you

A glaze in their eyes as they walked ever so slowly to the newbie and strangled them.

That horrified look on your face. They didn’t know if they liked it or hated it.

But what they did know is that from that moment forward, they can never call themself a proper hero again. Their mentor’s words echoed in their head.

“You are staying at the base and that is final. If I see you again out on the field, I’ll be the one to put you behind bars.”

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FOUR. ✧ DEPRESSION

“Breaking News: A new vigilante has been spotted! Has our favorite hero been replaced? Well our sources say yes!”

“And would you look at that, they’re even worse at hiding their interest in their nemesis! Is this the love story we’ve all been waiting for?”

Yandere! Hero doesn’t remember when they last saw the sun anymore.

Their days were spent deep within the basement of the hero HQ, scrolling through any information they could find of you.

Their head constantly replaying the memories you shared, written in a systematic obsessed manner on a journal. From the very second you two first met, to the time you looked at them with eyes full of horror.

Your image had been scribbled, drawn, painted, carved, broken down, and built back up again hundreds of times.

But it just wasn’t enough.

Yandere! Hero used to wish that there would be a day you two would stop fighting. Whether it’d be them finally ending your streak of misdeeds, or you quitting. Anything would have satisfied them.

But now, now they just couldn’t see the appeal of it all.

All they could see was eternity with you.

And they’ll have that one way or another.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FIVE. ✧ ACCEPTANCE

“I never could have imagine this to happen.”

“Really? You must have thought that I’d put you behind bars one day.”

“My fantasies were always, well — the other way around.”

You wore a calm expression.

Yandere! Hero, ever the fragile ego they had, would have seen this as an insult. A slight to their prowess.

But right now they couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Of course you wouldn’t be mad if they did this. You were you after all. You’ve been through much worse than being tied up and forced into a small cage more fit for an animal than a human.

And you being you, knew the many other ways to unnerve your poor rival.

“Wouldn’t it be ironic? If your replacement were to save me that is.”

You fought the anticipation from appearing on your face as you continued.

“Then they would truly become my hero.”

But your hopes were dashed, your giddiness dimmed as they simply replied.

“Then I’ll just kill them, and the next replacement after that. Until I go through every single capable human this planet has to offer and then more.”

Perhaps there was a reason why Heroes wore a mask aside from hiding their identities. That would certainly explain the chill you felt crawl up your limbs and spine as they lovingly stared at you.

“Because now I know that I love you. I’ll save you from everyone else but myself.”

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

#this is both Damian and Amir coded and I’m not afraid to say that it made this so much more easier and fun to write #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere core #Yandere headcannons #yanderecore #Yandere tsundere #tsundere Yandere #yandere scenario #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere original character #Yandere rival #Yandere writing #Yandere story

[diejager]

I love you step father könig Ang dbf horangi series! Honestly I feel like my room would be such a turn off for them both (I just can’t imagine that a dirty room with an undertale poster and anime figures staring at them would be fun). In the scenario where the reader has a dirty uncomfortable room would they just A) take them out or try and help them reorganize, or B) just take them out of their room/house?

If it scenario A moms just like “how nice that my husband and his best friend are helping my child like this, what amazing bonding experiences :)! It’s also nice that they’re helping them get rid of some of those things.”

Cw: controlling behaviour,STEPCEST, DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, smut, double penetration, threesome, rough sex, plug, coercion, tell me if I missed any.

I’m more inclined to pick choice A, where they would take out everything and reorganise your room. They might be retired, but habits that moulded them into who they’ve become are hard to forget, it would impossible for them to die out. Clean and minimal rooms kept them up and ready, it made it easier to live when their lives were so hectic and always in motion. König’s personal belonging showed it, he rarely had any trinkets that weren’t necessary, his office bare of personal touches and his side of the room was barren, holding but his clothes, gear and work utilities. It stood out more clearly with Horangi - your stepdad’s coworker turned best friend - who lived alone, the walls untouched and the rooms decorated in a utilitarian manner. He kept what was necessary and threw away anything that didn’t directly influenced him.

So it wouldn’t be a surprise that they’d make you clean your messy room, unnecessarily hung posters, small figurines that they deemed a waste, clothes strewn around on your chair, bed and basket, and other small and big things that took too much space in your room. It could be clean if you put in the work, it wouldn’t be so crowded that it stank to them. That’s why your stepfather and his friend were holding you by the neck and telling you to clean up and make more space for the two of them to fit comfortably in your bedroom.

“Look at this mess, Schatzi,” he tone was disapproving, seemingly disappointed in your personalised mess of a room with your cherished characters and excitable posters, “I can hardly walk around without hitting something.”

“We have a lot of work to do, 애인.” [Sweetheart]

They make you throw away everything you collected over the years, forcing you to put the in a box to put away in the basement’s storage and clean your room in their image. Despite your tears and sobs, they’re unyielding, glaring down at you as if you were a misbehaving child and speak to you in a tone that broke down your dignity. Once everything’s packed away, your room has never been this bare, walls clean, your desk arranged and bed made, it was a picture-perfect sight of a minimalist room that your stepfather could be proud of. It tore you apart to put away your collection and the many gifts you had received, small trinkets that you held close to your heart, but they were uncaring to your pleas.

They shush your weeping, rewarding you with their cocks, choking down your tears with a good fucking that would take your mind off unnecessary affairs. Horangi ploughed into you, holding you by the hip to stop you from keeling over, arms and legs trembling from the force he out in his thrusts. You’re pushed into König with every thrust, throat closing around his girth when König bucked his hips, driving further down and chuckling cruelly when you gagged loudly, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. They ravage you in your recently cleaned room before moving to the hall until you find yourself in the kitchen table, thrown over the flat wood and choking on Horangi, drooling down your chin while you wet your stepdad’s navel and his musky hair with your slick and cum, gummy walls tight and warm around him cock.

They make sure to bathe you and clean up their mess before your mom’s home, wiping away all the evidence and slotting a plug in your swollen cunt, preventing the mix of slick and cum to leak from your hole. You’re exhausted and dozing off in your bed, sleeping off your sore muscle and chaotic mind, only waking up once you’re called for dinner by Horangi. When you’re stiffly seated next to your neighbour, your mom congratulated you for cleaning your chaotic room and gushed about her husband and his friend helping you to make things quicker and easier.

“That’s sweet of you, thank you,” you sighed tiredly, eyes closed in exasperation at the times she spoke to you about reorganising your room and taking out things that you didn’t use. “We’ve spoke about it for years now, but she’s always been too stubborn to clean up. Did you thank them, sweetheart?”

Yo blinked lazily, lips parting to say your peace, wanting to throw a few choice words at her for acting this way, but König beat you to it.

“Ja, she was very grateful.”

Despite his words and smile, there was a hidden darkness in his eyes, a hungry and calculatrice gleam kept a secret from your mother, but clear to you and Horangi’s equally sick grin.

“I’m glad.”

She was none the wiser, smile so bright for her tiresome day at work, simply overjoyed that her husband was putting in the effort to actually know and help you.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @spidersthere @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #konig x reader #konig mw2 #mw2 smut #dead dove do not eat #tw: dark content #dark content #dark cod #konig #konig x reader smut #könig smut #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig x reader smut #horangi #kim horangi hong jin #horangi x reader #horangi x you #horangi smut #cod smut #tw dubcon #tw: dub con #tw: dubcon #dubious consent #tw: noncon #x fem!reader #female!reader #tw: stepcest

[onmydelulushitasalways]

the marauders being clingy

Characters: James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black

Synopsis: The Marauders loving their s/o and being all clingy

TW: Drunk, alcohol (Sirius)

James Potter

“James,” you whined, “breakfast is going to be over soon, we need to get out of bed.”

James was still half-asleep, with his face pressed against your chest as he laid on top of you. He was like a koala to a tree, clinging onto your warm body.

The way your hands massaged his scalp probably didn’t help keep him alert.

“Five more minutes,” James mumbled sleepily against your skin. “You’re too comfy.”

“James, don’t you have a quidditch match this afternoon? Don’t you want to strategize with the team this morning?”

“They can wait.”

“I have classes to get to, you know?” you stop playing with his hair, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Please, baby, I don’t wanna get up yet!” James complained pathetically.

“You have to get up eventually,” you sat up slowly, James reluctantly following suit. “Let’s get ready, go to breakfast, go to class, I’ll cheer for you at your game, and then tonight we can cuddle until we fall asleep.”

James grumpily got out of bed and ready. “Tomorrow morning is a Saturday. And I will not let you out of my arms until lunch, you hear me?”

Remus Lupin

“And so the combination of rose petals and swan feathers creates a sand-like powder that is commonly used in beauty and love spells. Rowena Ravenclaw, however, feared that access to such emotional magic would harm the students, so for the first two centuries of Hogwarts’ existence was an impeccably swan-free zone…”

You read your history book out loud to Remus, who had his head rested in your lap.

“Remus? Are you listening?”

“Hm? Yes, of course, love. Swans and the lack thereof,” he nodded, as he flipped himself from his back to his stomach. His head still resting comfortably on your thighs.

“Tired, Moony?” you put the book down.

“Mhm, a bit. But don’t stop reading on my account. I’m still listening,” Remus’s voice was tired and relaxed.

“Don’t be silly, you go to sleep.”

“Are you gonna fall asleep with me?” he looked up from your lap, expectantly.

“No, I still need to study. The history of Hogwarts waits for no one,” you sighed with a faint smile. “But you had this class last term, so you don’t need to sit through all this.”

“I want to, love. I like hearing you read,” Remus laid his head back down. “Please, continue.”

You smiled with a roll of the eyes and reopened the book. “In addition to swans, all white feathers were equally prohibited. Notably, doves and cranes got it particularly rough…”

Before you could make it to the next page, Remus was asleep on your lap.

Sirius Black

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” Remus frowned as he led you into the Gryffindor common room.

On a couch, laid a very drunk Sirius, talking some poor second year’s ear off.

“Oh, and you should just see them! They’ve got this smile, and these eyes, and, ugh! I hate them they’re so perfect. And I’m dating them! How did that happen?” Sirius ranted.

“I, um, I don’t know,” the perfectly sober second-year shrugged awkwardly.

“Me neither!” Sirius said just a bit too loud.

You walked over to relieve the poor kid from their duties. “I’ve got him from here, thanks.”

“Darling!” Sirius cheered happily at your arrival. He opened his arms for a hug, which when you accept he turns into a cuddle.

He wrapped his arms around your neck and pulled you down on top of him on the couch. The scent of alcohol hit you.

“How much have you had to drink, Sirius?” you inquired.

“Enough to feel good enough to do this,” he smirked as he pulled you into a kiss.

The kiss was long and sloppy, until you pulled away. Sirius frowned slightly at that.

“Siri, you’re smashed. I think you should get to bed,” you advised.

“What? No! You just got here, I’m just starting to have fun!” Sirius whined.

Suddenly, another Gryffindor approached you, asking for help with an essay he had due tomorrow.

“Back off! She was just about to take me to bed!” He declared proudly, with drunken loudness and shamelessness.

And you did just that. Took him to his room, and cuddled him to sleep. Although his hangover was not as pleasant.

#marauders #the marauders #the marauders fluff #the marauders x reader #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff

[jerreeeeeee]

Balance fic recs

some of my favorite balance fics. various ages, popularities, and lengths. i’ve been wanting to do a rec list for a while!

caramel by nevereverever

The first time Taako is left alone, it isn't pretty. But their lives are stuck in a loop and people come back and die again and again and he wonders if there will ever be a time when he doesn't have to fear being left alone.

2.7k, Taako & Lup Lup dies one cycle and then, years later, she dies again. But she always comes back. Hurt/comfort of the best kind.

Warmth by noxic

"It was a well-known fact among the residents of the Starblaster that Lup, Barry, and Taako slept in the same bed more often than not. It was one of those things that they just did without really talking about it."

2.1k, Barry & Lup & Taako The BLT fic of all time. Quality platonic adult sleepovers.

Taako the Matchmaker by @fantasysamsclub

In which Taako tries to set up his sister. Events take place during Stolen Century.

11.1k, Blupjeans & Taako Taako tries to set up blupjeans. Miscommunication ensues. Very sweet and funny.

red fishing line by @anistarrose

A routine performance of Sizzle it Up goes nightmarishly wrong, and at Lup’s bedside, Taako feels helpless. And when a red-robed guest appears before him, Taako doesn’t know how or what to feel at all.

3k, Barry & Lup & Taako Also the BLT fic of all time. Excellent subtle Taako characterization, and my favorite depiction of the familiarity-but-not of being voidfished. Warning for major character death.

Sunny-Side Up by @barry-j-blupjeans

And the world? The world loved Taako. For once in his gods-damned life, people loved him. They didn’t care about all the flaws, they didn’t care where he came from or who he was before. They loved his food and they loved him. No one would ever quite be at Taako’s level and that was something he thrived on. There would never be anyone who could measure up. Taako deserved this happiness. He worked for it. He wasted his fucking life away for it.

5.7k, Taako A wonderful character study, revolving around the role food plays in Taako's life. Fairly minor but impactful characters like Sazed and Taako's aunt are utilized in a very meaningful way. So well-written and warm. Warning for brief suicidal ideation.

On the Deck of the Starblaster by @papergardener

“What the… what are you all doing? We have work to do!” It’s a justified reaction, Lucretia thinks, to finding your entire crew literally lazing about on deck not an hour into this new cycle. “This one's on me,” Taako says. “It’s a new trend I like to call: taking a fucking break.” Cycle Nintey-Five. Everyone’s maybe not doing so good and could use a little warmth.

6.5k, Lucretia & Taako Near the end of the century, Lucretia is feeling rough. Taako pulls her out of her funk and initiates a much needed rest. Fantastic characterization, of Lucretia as a whole, and the loyal, warm side of Taako. Warning for mentions of a suicide attempt and suicidal ideation.

leaving, as an injustice by @anistarrose

When Mavis is eight, she starts finding her Dad asleep on the couch in the morning. Sometimes, he’s even all the way out on their tiny patio, with his head slumped onto a pillow atop the chess table, and bags beneath his eyes. In one of their following games, he tells her about tactical retreats.

4.7k, Mavis & Merle A study of Mavis and her relationship to Merle. Incredibly insightful into criminally underrated characters. Excellent Merle characterization.

Permission by vaguenotion

She’d been doing this on and off for the last hour, as if daring the men to catch up to them. Daring them to fight her. Every time seemed like a final stand. Here is where I will meet them, her shoulders said, hiked up around her ears. Here is where I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done. But then Taako would grab her hand, and she would turn and see the bruising on his throat, the blood drying on his brow, the tear in his shirt. And she would grip his hand in hers and together they would keep running.

12.6k, Taako & Lup My favorite depiction of the twins as children, both in character and realistic. Beautifully atmospheric, with so many small details that make the setting feel so real. Warning for assault and harm to children.

Come Hell or High Water by @nillial

“Taako,” Hurley asks, “where’s your magic umbrella?” Taako looks behind him. He had tossed the Umbrastaff in the path of a neighboring vehicle, which was beginning to catch up to them. He sees them now, far in the distance, and he sees his Umbrastaff, too, lying dangerously close to its wheels. As if on cue, he watches the tires crush it to pieces. “Whoops,” he says. - Lup is trapped. And then she isn’t. --- In which Taako breaks his umbrella during the Petals to the Metal race, unknowingly freeing Lup, who is almost immediately captured by Kravitz. After becoming a member of the Raven Queen's retinue with Kravitz as her trainer, she has two missions: 1) find her family, and 2) ruin Kravitz's afterlife. A story about enemies becoming friends and lost families finding their way back to one another.

197k (currently), Lup & Kravitz Incredible characterization. I love the way Lup is written. Hilarious shenanigans, sweet friendship-building, and terribly sad sometimes, because it dives deep into the reality of Lup existing in a world that's forgotten her.

Very cold water on a very hot day by @keplercryptids

Sometimes a family is a nerd who can't swim and the crunchy-haired watersport inventor who teaches him how. Surfer lingo required.

3.1k, Barry & Taako Deep dive into the beach year. Excellently in character, well-written dialogue, and a beautiful depiction of their growing friendship.

Children of Atlas by @papergardener

They’ve survived the apocalypse and now as far as they know, they’re the only ones left. Perhaps it was inevitable that they’d consider… repopulation. Lucretia writes up a weekly schedule to try and address that. Absolutely no one is happy with this.

76k (currently), IPRE crew The premise for this one is incredibly offputting, but I'm so glad I gave it a chance. The characterization and quality of writing is absolutely wonderful. I also love the attention to detail of the realistic difficulty of just surviving. Fantastically atmospheric, this fic dives deep into the uncertainty and fear of the first cycle, when the crew are all strangers, and the love that turns them into a family. Warning for extensive discussion of sexual assault.

Emissary Davenport by DragonWrites

A series of stories where Captain Davenport is secretly an emissary of Garl Glittergold, Gnomish god of pranks. And when you're a serious-minded captain on a mission to save all of reality, having a cheerful trickster god as your unexpected patron can get a little strange...

300k, Davenport A series of four works set in an AU where Davenport is an emissary to the leader of the gnomish pantheon. My absolute favorite depiction of Davenport, ever. The first three works are explorations of Davenport as a character and the relationships between people and gods in a DnD world. The last, Lost Gods, is the best fanfiction I've ever read. I can't express how good it is. The attention to detail among myriad plot threads, the building of themes, the characterization across just about every single character in Balance, all come together to create 223k words of a genuine masterpiece.

#apparently theres some kind of comment thing going on and people were making fic rec lists so i wanted to throw my hat in the ring #bc a few of these are very underrated #yes theyre all gen. i don't care for shipping. sorry #mine #taz #taz balance #the adventure zone #taz: b #taz fanfic #taz balance fic #fic rec

[avocad1s]

Bring Back What Once Was Mine

Summary: It’s been five hundred years since the people of Teyvat celebrated the return of their Creator. Oh what a joyous day that was! However there was something off with the Divine One, had they always acted like this? Not only that, being in their presence didn’t bring the same warmth it did all those centuries ago, but to go against their creator is the highest form of treason they could commit. So when another shows up sharing the exact face as the one on the throne, many are conflicted on who to follow.

Characters Featured: Multiple Characters Mentioned

Note: Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader

Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You’ve been warned.

Part one (You are here!) Part Two

This is not beta read. So I apologize for any mistakes.

For the first time in decades, six of the archons stood in the same room.

It was an odd occurrence, most of them preferred to stay in their respective nations, the only time they would all meet up like this is if something dire was occurring.

One of these occasions was when the Divine One descended down to Teyvat, it was a day to remember for everyone. Celebrations went on for weeks, many hoping that the Creator would acknowledge them with a vision, mora, or even a simple glance. However, blinded by their own excitement, the people of Teyvat didn’t notice how… off the Creator was. Well, besides the ones who are considered to be the closest to them.

…

“We’ve all noticed that Their Grace has been acting a bit different ever since they returned,”

“Well they have been away for a while, maybe they need time to adjust?”

“That can’t be it, they’ve already been here for centuries. They would’ve adjusted by now.”

“Even though I never met them personally before they returned, anytime they are in Sumeru they are nothing like the scriptures say.”

“Maybe the Divine One is acting off due to what happened to…”

The room falls silent.

“Was there any response from the Cryo archon?”

“No she had locked down her nation years ago, nothing goes in and nothing comes out. Except for the Fatui… Mor- Zhongli, do you think that she knew something before the rest of us?”

“It is possible, but we cannot say for certain. Yet, we cannot act without knowing the truth.”

“I agree, acting with only suspicion rather than proof would be foolish.”

“So what do we do?”

“For now we do nothing, eventually something will come to light.”

Present Day

The heat in the desert of Sumeru was unforgiving, you could get caught in a sandstorm or if you do not bring enough supplies that could also be the end for you. So it was only natural that when the Traveler and her floating companion noticed someone passed out in the sand, they would rush over to help.

“Hey Traveler…” Paimon begins, “look at their clothes, it’s not like anything we’ve seen before.”

The girl looks down at the unconscious person. Paimon was right, they weren’t wearing any type of clothing that indicated that they were from any nation in Teyvat.

Not to mention the sudden comforting feeling the girl had gotten once she had approached them. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced since her and her brother were still traveling worlds together.

“Let’s wake them up.”

It took more shakes and taps than the Traveler was expecting but soon their eyes open and they sit up slowly, sand falling off of their body with every movement.

“Are you okay?” The Traveler asks.

They let out a soft groan turning to look at the girl and her companion.

“Where am I?” Were the first words to leave their mouth.

“Sumeru’s desert!” Paimon says, “erm, do you not remember how you got here? Traveler, maybe we should bring this person to Tighnari, they seem to be a bit disoriented.”

Without realizing it, the Traveler ignores Paimon keeping all of her attention on the mysterious person still sitting in the warm sand. She holds her hand out, “here let me help you up.” They take the Travelers hand standing up on their feet, dusting the leftover sand off their clothing.

The Traveler continues to keep their gaze locked on them while they dust off their clothing. Noticing her friends odd behavior, Paimon clears her throat and begins talking.

“Well this is Lumine, but everyone just calls her the Traveler. Paimon is Paimon.” The fairy gestures to her friend then to herself. “What’s your name?”

They hesitate for a moment before saying their name, “thank you Paimon and Lumine for waking me, there’s no telling what could’ve happened if you didn’t.”

Lumine feels a warmth bloom in her chest at their kind words.

“It’s not problem, the Traveler is always happy to help!” Paimon says happily, “but Paimon has to ask, why are you unconscious in the desert anyway?”

“I don’t… I can’t remember. The last thing I remember seeing was a blinding light.”

Paimon and Lumine exchange glances.

“Well if you want, you can tag along with us to Sumeru city, we have some really smart friends who may be able to help you there.” Lumine offers.

They smile, “thanks but I don’t want to intrude on your journey.”

“Oh you’re not intruding! The Traveler and Paimon we’re already heading to the city to meet the Creator!”

Lumine shoots the fairy a dirty look causing her to shrink back apologizing while also whispering something about how she wasn’t supposed to say that.

However they had already perked up at the mention of the Divine. “The Creator?”

Lumine lets out a defeated breath, “we weren’t supposed to say anything…” she glances at her companion, “but the Creator has finally granted me an audience.”

“Yeah the Travelers been asking for ages to meet them but the creator has always refused until she helped the Dendro Archon.”

Paimon gets another, less noticeable glare thrown her way.

“I see…” They began, “you must be something pretty special to meet someone like them.”

There was a small silence.

“Well we should probably get a move on, we shouldn’t keep someone this important waiting!”

———

The walk back to Sumeru City was awkward to say the least. It seems that ever since the Creator was brought up in the conversation, Lumine and Paimons new friends seemed to be more closed off than before. Maybe they were apart of the few that didn’t blindly worship the Creator? Or maybe they’re using this tactic to hold back their jealousy? Lumine wasn’t sure but she’d rather not know.

Soon enough the city was visible from where they were standing, it would only be another twenty minute hike until they reached the entrance.

“I hope that walk wasn’t too bad for you considering your condit-“

Lumine pauses mid-sentence, they were gone? Just a minute ago they were behind them and now they were nowhere to be seen.

“Paimon didn’t even hear them wander off, I hope they’re okay…” The fairy says worriedly. Lumine nods but continues forward, if they had left on their own then it was clear they could handle themselves. The Traveler just hopes that nothing bad happens to them and she hopes to see them again.

You didn’t feel bad ditching the two girls.

After all that wasn’t the worse thing you did to them today.

You lied to them multiple times, maybe the only true thing you told the two was your name, but it didn’t matter.

As soon as you laid eyes on the girl, you knew she wasn’t from this world. Maybe that’s why you didn’t feel that bad lying to her? Or maybe you’re just lying to yourself.

Truthfully, you only followed them after they had brought up the Creator.

Ah yes, the “Creator”

The was the main reason why you returned after all this time in the first place.

You were aware that they had crowned another as the Creator when it first happened five hundred years ago, and you would’ve returned then and extinguished them, but you were still mourning the loss of one of your nations. Then it simply slipped your mind. Until now, when Teyvat has cried out to you once more.

You can’t keep neglecting your creation, especially since you care about it deeply.

Now of course you could’ve just bursted in the room that the usurper was in and defeated them right then and there but you wanted more information.

How did they pass off as you so easily? More importantly, how did anyone believe it?

Sure there’s a chance they may look like you but there’s no way they could replicate your power or your connection to the world itself.

You huff hiding behind a tree watching the two girls look around for you before eventually giving up heading towards the city.

This was going to take more effort than you thought.

The first thing Lumine noticed when she entered the dark room was the sheer coldness. She couldn’t see them at the top of the stairs but the presence of being in the room with them was already overwhelming.

She was in the room with the Creator.

Despite all the questions she had, her throat felt dry, like she couldn’t talk or rather, she didn’t have permission yet.

The girl kneels before them locking her gaze on the ground, she was slightly disappointed that she wasn’t the only one in the room. There were many Sages in the room and even Nahida was off to the side giving her a welcome smile.

“Traveler…” a voice brakes through the silence causing Lumine to tense, “I’m so happy to finally meet you.”

“I’m honored to be before you,” she stutters. Why did she feel like this? She met four Gods already, but why did she feel so tense around them? Like she had to watch her words carefully or something bad may happen.

“Please come here,” their voice calls out.

Lumine stands up shakily walking slowly towards the stairs, she keeps her gaze lowered as she walks up slowly. Soon enough she was right in front of the Creator. The girl goes to kneel once more but she stops when another order comes instead.

“Will you look at me?”

A audible gasp leaves the Travelers mouth as she stares out their face. This was the first time the Traveler had ever been face-to-face with them ever, although their elegance was undeniable their face was unmistakably the same as the person in the desert.

Without realizing Lumine mutters out the name of the person she had met just a few hours before.

Now it was time for everyone else to gasp.

A plethora of snide remarks and comments were thrown at the girl, many yelling out how dare she calls the creator by their true name or how she needs to show more respect.

The creator holds out a hands and the room immediately goes silent.

“Traveler,” their voice sickly sweet. “How are you aware of my true name?”

The blonde fiddles with her fingers for a moment, “Someone in the desert had told me that was their name. They had the same face as you.”

Their eyes widen but quickly relax as they uncross their legs to stand and approach the outlander.

“Are you telling me you saw someone running around with my face and my name?”

Lumine nods.

They rest a hand on the blonde girls shoulder giving her a soft smile.

“Where is this person now?”

Lumine shakes her head, “I’m not sure, they disappeared before I got to the city.”

They nod, “don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just want you to find this person for me and bring them here, okay?”

Words fail her and she nods at their request.

“Great. You may leave.”

———

Lumine lets out a deep breath once she was out of the room. Just being in that room made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

“Traveler!” Paimon floats over to her friend, “how did it go? Do they know anything about the unknown God you’re looking for?”

“They had the same face.”

“Huh?”

“The Divine One and the person in the desert.” Lumine clarifies, “they had the same face and name.”

“How’s that possible?”

The Traveler decides to stay silent, she didn’t know either and now she was tasked on finding this person and bringing them here.

“Lumine!” A voice calls out.

She turns around relaxing visibly once she meets their gaze. It was Nahida.

“Oh Nahida! It’s been a while, how’s the Wanderer?”

The Dendro Archon smiles, “he’s perfectly fine but that’s not why I approached you.”

Lumine was completely aware why the Archon decided to approach her, she was in the room when she had her ‘outburst’ with the Creator.

“You had said you saw someone who looked exactly like Their Grace, right? I was wondering if I could tag along with you in finding them.”

Lumine raises a brow, “really? You want to tag along?”

“Let’s just say I have my own suspicions…” Nahida says. “Now, where was the last place you had seen them?”

-

-

-

Note: Well if you made it this far that means you must’ve read all that way to the end, so thanks for that! I apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes, my english is :P but I’m trying!

I know that everyone has written something for the imposter au of sagau but this has been in my head for weeks and i finally decided I wanted to put it into words and post it. I’m not sure how well it will do, or how good it even is… but yeah… :>

© avocad1s please do not plagiarize or post to any other website

#genshin cult au #sagau #genshin sagau #sagau lumine #genshin cult #genshin impact sagau #sagau cult au

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

i’m such a sucker for a fake dating trope, could i request a drabble with eddie or tasm!peter? (i feel like out of all of the boyfriends they are the most likely to do it lol) <3

Thanks for requesting lovely!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 686 words

You drop Eddie’s hand as soon as you’re around the corner. “Baby?” your voice comes out disgusted, blissfully steady. “That’s what you’re going with?”

“I don’t have a shit ton of practice being couple-y,” he replies, huffy. “Sorry if I didn’t have time to whip out my domestic dictionary.”

You shrug. “Guess I just expected a little more creativity from you.” He does spend most of his time fucking around with chords and making up stories involving dragons and mages. 

You cross your arms, walking with a couple of feet between you and your part-time boyfriend now that there’s no one around to see. Eddie turns to look at you, his hair falling over his shoulder. “You like it.” 

He’s teasing, you think. He can’t possibly know that. But your face heats and you can’t look up from the sidewalk, because there had been an undeniable commotion in your stomach when Eddie had said in front of everyone, voice smooth and sweet as iced tea, You getting tired, baby? I’m about ready to head out.

It had been a warm sort of commotion, more bees than butterflies, buzzing all the way from the pit of your stomach up into your brain, where they’ve stayed, humming quietly even now. 

You try to pass your flustering off as pique, rolling your eyes and making sure Eddie sees. “It’s infantilizing,” you say. “I hate when guys call girls that, it’s so weird. I’m not a literal baby.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” You look over, and Eddie’s grinning at you now, laying it thick on in the way he has been all night, except that was for show and this appears to be just for you. With how wobbly it makes your limbs feel, you don’t know how much more of it you can take. “You seemed a lot like a baby, the way you let me open every door for you all day and were just about falling asleep on my shoulder a couple of minutes ago.” 

And just like that, the happy buzzing quiet. Real indignation sparks to life in your chest. “I thought you were just being chivalrous for a minute there, but I figured that was ridiculous.” For a second, Eddie looks confused. “And anyway,” you go on, “it’s not like you were any better. I thought I was gonna have to pry your hand off my waist if you got any more comfortable.” 

“You still might have to,” he teases, reaching around your side to squeeze at that favored spot. Your vexation breaks up as a laugh jostles out of you, and you try to move away but Eddie doesn’t let you get far, pulling you roughly against his side. 

Any more of this, and you’ll have to get a tattoo of his handprint on your waist with Eddie’s spot written inside. It’ll be tasteless and suggestive, and you know Eddie will laugh for days. 

“I’ve got to find something equally punishing for you now,” you say. “How do you feel about sweetpea?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“No? Honeyboo?” 

“You know—” 

“Pookie?” 

“—I actually don’t care what you—” 

“Oh, I know! Stud muffin.” 

“Would you shut up?” Eddie squeezes you around the middle again, cutting you off with your own giggles. He doesn’t look nearly as embarrassed as you’d like, still grinning down at you like you’re a source of endless amusement. “Stud muffin actually isn’t bad, but I don’t give a shit what you call me, so long as it’s you.” 

Some of your playfulness fizzles out, and he smirks at what he takes for your dissatisfaction, stopping and grasping your upper arms to look you in the eye. The metal of his rings are cool on your skin. “Got that, baby?” he asks, stretching the endearment out long and teasing.

It takes you a second to react, grateful for Eddie’s hands on your arms as you try to remember how to balance on your own. Once you do, you scoff, ripping out of his grasp and continuing ahead. “Fuck you,” you say. 

Eddie all but skips to catch up to you. “Oh, you wish.” 

#mae's 5k #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x self insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #fake dating #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader

[suguruplsr]

Let me be your cure

featuring.. Alhaitham

✰ ✰ ✰ You gave up on love after being affected with the infamous hanahaki. With pity and sadness slowly swallowing your life whole, you end up in the hospital. Reluctant to getting surgery. And your boring, sadly hot, doctor doesn't seem to care. At least until he finds himself thinking about you.

,, x fem!reader , reader had an ex fiancé who was shitty , fluff w/ angst + comfort , mentions of blood and bruises (caused by the disease) , purely fictional! i know nothing about how hospitals actually operate or if things in my story are or are not allowed! so as you read, remember its purely fictional!

+ disease used is called hanahaki! and it is fictional, and used in many fictional stories, like mine. in shorter terms, a character affected by this disease coughs up flowers and, usually, blood, because of rejection or the loved character not loving them, (without it being said too!). it’s mostly solved with the loved character realizing their love for mc and saving them. or in other cases, the mc getting surgery and losing feelings for the loved character.

↬ 1K Event Masterlist

wc: 5K+

- divider @/benkeibear

“Why are you staring?" You huff, making the gray-haired man in front of you nearly lose his composure. There’s no reason why someone like him should be stuck with some bratty woman. Okay, maybe he should have some sympathy. considering it’s a part of his job. “Ma’am, I'm just evaluating your physical health by sight for now.” You groan, turning your head away.

You’re literally going to die within this year and You can’t even at least get someone who is a bit more bubbly and nice to be around! not some cold guy with looks that could kill.

His eyes were unique. like targets or darts, probably? Your confuzzled mind couldn’t make sense of most things at the moment, but you felt strange underneath his gaze. intimidated. even without looking at him.

“Maybe if you wiped that scowl off your face, you wouldn't be in this situation. Probably drove the guy off." Alhaitham mutters. Yeah, yeah, it’s unprofessional, but he wasn’t disappointed with your reaction. His eyes lingered around your face, noticing how your tired, red eyes widened. But your lips curled, as if satisfied, mixing with the disbelief in your words. "Oh, you must be the funniest one around. What? Was I supposed to just smile? Say, 'Oh, I don’t mind, you’re fucking your secretary! Let’s plan our honeymoon, though!’ And hope to continue our romantic story?” You sneer, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“Well, it clearly didn’t work.” Alhaitham almost snickers. finding amusement in your extroverted attitude. He jots down a few more noticeable signs of your defect. Your lips look like they’ve been bit a lot, your nails are brittle, and your hair is frizzy and not taken care of. These are pretty normal things that the nurses should be able to help with. But he does eye the areas that aren’t just normal, like the bruises that reached to your neck or the ones on your arms that the gown does little to hide.

As you ramble on about your not-so-perfect love story, Alhaitham flips through the history of your visitors. It’s been three weeks since you were hospitalized, and there has been only one visitor since the day you came. which he’d assume was your mother or father. “Not a lot of friends or family?” He interrupts, his tone maybe a tiny bit softer than how firm it usually is. simply out of respect, of course. “Yeah, well, when you choose to die on your hill, not everyone wants to watch." You chuckle, smiling a bit.

He’d think that smile wouldn’t meet your eyes—cliche, right? But it did—a smile that wasn't too happy and an expression that wasn't too happy. But he merely hums in agreement, having no words of comfort and fixing his binder.

“Anyways, a female doctor will come and do a physical inspection before we prepare for your x-ray appointment in a few days. Although it seems that the roots of the flower may be growing and causing damage from the inside, His words make you waver, looking down at your lap. Was this really a good choice? It’s probably too late for surgery—not like you want one, but...

Alhaitham studies the visible emotions crossing your face before heading towards the door. “Make sure you ask for some food; you’re heavily malnourished."

The next few weeks have been bland. You wake up around 10 AM, and usually the nurse you’ve learned to call, Ms.Candace, is bringing your food inside and having a small conversation with you. Eventually, she begins the morning routine, doing your hair with a nice side of warm herbal tea. Chapstick, nails, and a light pair of pajamas, and then talking about what you’d like to do for the rest of your day.

But just when you think you won't ever have to see that snobby doctor,

“Unfortunately for you, you won’t be able to go outside.” Alhaitham steps into the room, clipboard in hand, and shoots a look of no remorse towards your huff. “And why not? I haven’t seen the light of day for what feels like months."You scoff, making the blue-haired woman beside you sigh. "Well, miss, your body is already becoming slower, and there’s signs you are getting weaker in general. I'm sure he’s just wanting to prevent your state from getting any worse.” Yet her sweet words do little to calm the bubbling feeling within your chest.

You shake your head as she goes to walk out, giving the gray-haired man one more look before the door closes. He ignores it, “Anyway, after the results of your recent checkups, the estimate of how much time you have left to live was determined. but I doubt it’ll affect you considering you’re one stubborn woman." Alhaitham raises his eyebrows at you, anticipating your rebuttal before you can even get it out. but instead, you suddenly get into a fit of coughs. It’s like an eruption within your chest. the tiny tree within, sending an array of attacks.

You hate it—the prickly feeling that wells up, like knives cutting your insides as flowers sputter and fall into the palm of your hand. Your eyes water from the odd sensation you’ve lived with, and you question yourself with the same old question you uttered the day you made your decision.

Was it worth it?

Was it worth sticking with a man who never had to even speak of his loss of love for you? The yellow carnations were enough. Symbolizing the rejection you’ve faced from him, something you never thought you’d ever have to endure after your relationship was taken to the next level,

Alhaitham had grabbed the new form of medication you were going to start using, a syringe filled with yellow liquid. He grabs your arm, his eyes quickly traversing around your body, especially your throat, for signs that may be more alarming than they should be. He looks into your eyes, seeing the panic and fear that have swelled within them. “I know it hurts, but breathe...” He whispers, keeping your arm firmly still as the syringe prickles into your skin. You look away in fright. You hate needles, but you hate this even more.

The spiky feeling in your throat slowly subsides as you spit out some blood. "I'm fine now...” Your croaky voice makes him jeer, swiftly grabbing a band-aid for the little spot of blood on your arm. "You aren’t. You’re, quite literally, dying. Although it seems like you may be dying way faster than I thought.” He sighs, moving around the room and grabbing a few of your medications. “We'll have to give you stronger medication to reduce the pain. I'll have Ms. Candace and a few other people come help you," he says, leaving almost as quickly as he came.

The nurses come in within a short time, the room bustling with movement and questions being directed towards you. The blood staining the pretty gold ring on your finger makes you finally wake up.

You’re actually dying.

And it’s for a man who swears he could never love you again.

Oh, how tricky fate can be with those stupid I love you's.

“How’re you feeling?” Alhaitham mumurs. You’ve been ignoring the man who sat in front of you, all silent, ever since the fiasco yesterday. You could only stare down at the ring around your finger, twisting it and sometimes daring to fully shed it off your finger.

You don’t have the guts to do that, even if he did. without any hesitation either.

“With how much you talk, I'm surprised you aren’t yelling at me for just existing.” He muses, his eyes flickering from his clipboard up to where you sit on the hospital bed. You don’t have the energy to banter with him, "I'm not that childish.” “You’d be surprised." His mutter makes you jolt, your face twisting into a pout.

“It sounds like you just have a problem with me!” you gibe. but Alhaitham’s eyebrow raises. as if you hit the target with that one. "Possibly," he mumbles, focusing back on the papers in front of him. Your fusses fall dead on his ears.

His problem with you wasn’t bad—more like pity. Something he rarely feels for patients, only understanding their situations, giving affirmations, and moving on. but he finds your situation simply ridiculous. Not only are you dying for a man who left you for another, but he doesn’t even have the respect to pay for your medical fees. Not to mention, literally, your mother was the one who paid, only stating to him that she has no plans on visiting and that he was allowed to do whatever once you died.

What a heartless woman!

“Since you’re so absorbed in that paper—“ “You must not have an ‘off’ button.” His eye twitches at the tone of your annoyance, all sickly and sweet. He could practically hear the joke Cyno would make. "Actually, I do. and it’s counting down. Speaking of, you never told me how long I have left.” Okay, maybe you were a bit funny. and it’s something that should definitely not make his lips almost form into a smile. However, he clears his throat, not bothering to flip through the mountain of pages. considering he already memorized the information. “Two months at least. With the rate at which your body is deteriorating, the best you’ll be able to last is maybe an extra week or two.

Alhaitham’s stomach strangely twists at the sight of your mood dampening once again. your head looking back down to your arms, and your lips pressed tightly together. But it wasn’t like he cared; it’s just interesting to see how fast the light can disappear from one’s eyes. something he realized long ago that he'd see a lot of.

It’s probably just from how tense the room got all of a sudden. nothing he can’t handle.

Before you know it, droplets of tears fall onto the blanket bunched around your lap, like a rainfall that just doesn't stop. no matter how fast you bring your hands up to wipe them away. "Sorry, I'm just going—" “Go ahead. I see it every day." Alhaitham doesn’t let you argue. He pulls out a small handkerchief from his chest pocket, inscribed with the letter A in cursive. but he doesn’t mind your slight humiliation, or whatever it is making you uncomfortable in front of him, looking away and grabbing a piece of paper.

Once your blurry eyes are clear, you see that he has left you in silence, leaving behind a sheet of paper. clutching the white cloth, you read the words, a smile blooming on your face. Make a bucket list.

“Abiding by our policies, you can’t get your nails painted.” Alhaitham shuts down the 20th idea you had. He sat in the chair in front of you, avoiding the glare you threw at him and skimming through the third row. Maybe she should’ve predicted that a dying person would want to do exactly, one hundred and one, things before their death.

But it’s not like he’s done this before.

"Okay, what, can I do?!” You huff, already fed up with the word ‘no’. "Well, since you can’t go out, we can watch that movie, ’scream’, here." Alhaitham sighs, watching how your whole mood lit up, your eyes almost sparkling. This is going to be a long two months.

“mhm! what else.” You giggle, clapping your hands together. It’s almost comical to him to see how expressive you are. Looking back down at the paper he held, he began picking out some of the activities you would be able to do.

And in the end, you ended up winning him over in a few things, like being able to use some make-up for fun, more movies, specific snacks that you’ll have to eat at very specific times, board games that you convinced him to play with you, and basically anything and everything that you can do with the tiny little home of your room.

You even managed to persuade the silver-haired man to let you get some press-on nails. nails, which Candace, thankfully, went out to buy. but surprisingly, the doctor decided to put them on you himself. since Ms.Candace was attending to another patient and he had some free time. Well, at least that was his excuse. Not like you know, he was simply curious to see your excitement over something so small.

“That one fits the ring finger more.” You correct Alhaitham again, making him squint his eyes, mumbling under his breath, and moving his fingers to hold your hand firmer. And you just so happen to be right. He sets it aside carefully, putting it in the line of pretty pink and black gemmed nails. He picks up the last smaller nail, the one that finally fits your index finger perfectly.

“Isn’t it pretty?” You smile, adoring the nails, as he concentrates on applying the fake nails. He gives a low tsk, a faux look of confusion on his face. "Well, I dunno, they’re kinda...” he trails off, a neatly structured, stoic expression on his face that makes you roll your eyes. “They’re cute!” “If you say so.” Your adorable little glare makes him want to egg you on, but he stays silent for now.

Wait— Adorable? Maybe he has a headache from your nagging or something; there is nothing to worry about now.

You study his expression unknowingly; your eyes just so happened to need something to latch onto. And he’s clearly got a nice view. better than the nails. The small scrunch of his eyebrows is obviously dedicated to something so simple that it almost concerns you. Even the way he holds your hands up is tender, contrasting with his slightly calloused hands. He has a beautiful face too, and you think you can see some muscles hidden under his coat.

Sculpted so gorgeously. Funny, for such a snarky man.

“How old are you?” You blurt out, looking up at him as he glances at you in confusion. “Why?” He asks softly, almost done with your second hand as you contemplate. “Just curious.” “Curiosity killed the” “but satisfaction brought it back.” You finish before he can fully say the little saying. A small smirk of victory forms on your lips when he gives you a look that just radiates sass.

“Twenty-seven.” He gruffed. Perfect. “How did you even become a doctor so young?" You question him, a look of surprise crossing your face as he shrugs. “A few golden opportunities.” “Wait, are you not going to ask me how old I am?” You’re so clueless, Alhaitham thinks. “I’m your doctor. You must really not have a brain.” And you scoff at his words, but yet another question pops into your head. “Anyways! Favorite color?” “Are you serious, right now?" “If you don’t answer, I will personally file a complaint." "Green."

You two eventually ended up having a long conversation, with you asking him questions and him answering reluctantly. But what made it so long was him turning it on you and asking a few questions that you gladly responded to. All the while, he held one of your hands, not ever thinking to let go and just studying the ring you still wear. What a bubbly woman you are.

Alhaitham nearly let a curse out to the man who wronged you when you mentioned him once. He doesn’t care much, but how can someone be so stupid?

Alhaitham looks at the time on his watch. Two-thirty. Zipping up his lunch box, he heads towards the elevator, making a small stop in the room full of medicines. He ignores the calls in his name from other doctors or nurses who simply want to know more about the quiet man. He hates spending his breaks around people. Sadly, this just so happens to be one of the times when he’d love to have his headphones.

But duty calls.

He taps the button to go to the ninth floor, where your room is. Today is your movie day. That just so happened to land on Friday, the thirteenth too. He swipes through his notes, finding the password to his Hulu subscription. He only bought that for the movie series you like to watch on the smart TV installed in your room. *’Scream’ was it? Today you two were watching the fifth one, and you somehow logged him out for the third time within a week. Ms. Candace said you were snooping through the account settings or something like that.

What a hassle you are!

He reaches the high floor after a few seconds, making his way to your room and memorizing the password that he surprisingly always forgets. But, when he opens the door, he’s greeted with the sight of you fast asleep. Something makes him dread the energy you’ll have later in the evening, but he’s mindful of your rest. Placing his bags on the table silently and taking off his coat, he put it on the hook of the door.

The silence within your room is nice, for once. Usually, only the tension of your attitude or sadness would lie in the silence of this room. But only your light snores and the small drag of a chair were heard. Alhaitham moves to sit in a corner, thinking about leaving and having an extended break or waiting for you until you wake. But he picks the latter, crossing his arms and legs, leaning back, and letting his eyes drift onto your figure.

His mind was maybe a bit more active than before. He doesn’t know why, but he finds himself thinking of you more often: your health, your many expressions, your cheeky smiles, the dumb stuff that comes out of your mouth, and your eyes. To him, eyes are the purest form of honesty. like how yours can look like saucers when you’re shocked or diamonds when you're happy. or a pit of sadness.

Sadness. Alhaitham would think your only source of sadness in life was that fiancé of yours. Well, ex by now. A man who caused you so much pain that you’ve decided to live and die with. How could you ever love again if you’re so committed like this? But Alhaitham won’t ask you such things, out of respect, of course. It’s not like he’ll be pondering over them in a few weeks.

He shakes off the weird thoughts, dozing off.

You woke up to the sight. ‘What a sight for sore eyes.’ You quote in your head. You almost want to wipe away your eyes with how fine that man looks. Despite how creepy it was to notice the doctor in the corner of your room, His head was leaned against the wall, and his body stilled like stone as he slept. And his arms—Oh his arms. His arms were practically bulging out the scrubs he wore, so muscular. You almost want to touch them. Well, at least you know he keeps up with his gym regimen. Good thing he’s sleeping; now you can admire him more.

“You must have a staring problem.”

Maybe not.

His voice was a bit raspy, laced with tiredness as his eyes fluttered open, straight to you. “Why didn’t you wake me?” You divert him. Eyes away from him with an obvious flustered expression on your face. Alhaitham’s lips tug into a tiny, knowing smile, humored. But he decides to play along and not tease you any longer. “I’m not going to interfere with a patient's sleep.” He sighs, standing tall and going to put back on his coat. He checks the time. 4 PM.

“Before you watch your movie full of blood, you need your dosage.” Alhaitham ignores your whine in response, picking up the wrapped syringe in his white bag. “Ugh, why do I have to do three a day anyway? I’m feeling well.” You huff, holding out your arm as he walks to you, closing your eyes in anticipation. “That’s exactly why.” He mutters, holding your arm gently. “Breathe.” He says it softly, feeling your fast heartbeat on your wrist. “I clearly am." "Well, calm down.”

You purse your lips, complying and taking some deep breaths. Once his thumb presses the familiar spot between your forearm and arm, you feel the prick in your skin. Then comes the tingly feeling of fluid entering your body. You shiver, unexpectedly clutching his hand as your chest tightens. Alhaitham watches in interest, allowing you to hold onto him until the pain passes. "Can we watch that movie now?" You mumble, making him give your hand a final squeeze before letting go.

He grabs the remote on the table, turns on the TV, and flicks through the streaming services. “Hmm, I’m not sure. I think you like looking at something else,” he offhandedly mentions, giving you a small jab at your earlier actions and glancing down at the little funny face you gave him. “Oh c’mon!”

“What? It was just an assumption."

“But! Ugh!”

“Again!” You groan before Alhaitham can even slot his red chip into the blue holder. You’ve lost maybe five or six games of Connect Four now, sitting at this stupid table with this stupid game for maybe an hour and a half. "No, I can do it." Alhaitham says this while sitting back into his chair with that signature cross of his legs. “And why is that?” “It’s getting late.” And you pout, laying your head on the table as he watches you.

Those little target-like eyes of his drill into you. Moreso, the purple veins that have formed on your neck over the past month The area is dark, and the veins are even darker. There were parts of your body that suffered from the disease; your health was deteriorating so badly that it made him sick. You’ve become slower, unable to even stay awake for longer than eight hours. He and Ms. Candace have been hovering over you with every last second of your life, with the knowledge that you could drop dead at any moment.

“Not a good look, huh?" You murmur, feeling awful under his watchful gaze. And Alhaitham’s cocks his head, not entertained by your words. “Did I say that?”

"It's on your face."

“You have poor judgment, then."

And your face scrunches up, looking at him with an annoyed look. “What else would you think, then?” Alhaitham bites his tongue. something he doesn’t do a lot. Well, not at all. It’s not like him to interfere with a patient's choice, but...

“I’d think that you should get that operation.” He sighs, not bothering to take his eyes off you as you turn your head away. “Doctor. You know I—“ “Are you seriously letting a man who isn’t here dictate how your life ends?” He scoffs, letting a tone of disbelief creep into his voice before realizing his own words. But Alhaitham doesn’t correct himself.

He was already correct.

"Okay, well, why do you care? And yes, I know you’re my doctor and everything, but, you don’t act like this." You give him a pointed look, sliding the lever of the blue grid and letting the coins fall into the bin. “I’m just saying. Anyone in their right mind would at least be honest with you about this.” Alhaitham shrugs, but the truth is that he truly could not stand to see you like this. So in his right mind, he did the least he could do.

It's not like you know his true feelings.

You ponder over his words, playing with the ring on your left hand. He was right. But perhaps you expected too much from that damned man, the man you fell in love with classically, high school sweethearts who swore to marry, and oh, how so close you were to that dream.

Not every story has a happy ending.

But who were you to let some shitty man write your story’s ending while he goes to some fucking island with his fucking bimbo?

An idiot is what you’d be.

“Sure.” You whisper, bringing your elbow up and laying your head on your hand. Alhaitham gives you a look of satisfaction, a knowing smile forming on his face as he stands up. “I knew you weren’t that dumb.” “You know nothing!” You scoff, your chest bubbling with excitement for your future as you get ready to put away the board game. But he pulls the grid towards him and says, "You won’t need this here. I’ll just take it home.” He says it casually, making you pause.

“But it was a gift to me? Why—" “Do you seriously not know how to take a hint?” What’s with this man always interrupting you? You scowl. Hint? What hint—"Oh, wait—are you like, inviting, me over or something?” And Alhaitham only makes a sound of agreement, dropping the chips in the bin into the box. “yea, and I won’t be your surgeon, obviously. But once the day of your appointment comes, you won’t see me around. Just talk to Ms. Candace after they release you."

Alhaitham cleans up as you tuck yourself into bed, playing the background show of your choice before leaving with a small click of the door.

You can’t believe it. You aren’t dying in three weeks. and you’re going on a date. Well, in a month, but still!

“Um, should I just call him? I don’t want you to trouble you any longer. You were dressed in a fine black dress that Candace willingly gave to you. Your body healed after the operation within a few weeks of rest and food. You hadn’t seen the doctor—well, Alhaitham—since the day before your appointment.

So basically, a long time.

But after getting released from the hospital, Candace took you in and helped you familiarize yourself with life. And she just so happened to tell a specific man that you made a full recovery. which his immediate reply was, for you to come over to his house for dinner.

It was about time for him to properly pursue you.

“Oh? You must be eager to see him. He’s just a little car ride away, but if you insist, Candace teases, her eyes glimmering in amusement as she hands you your phone. You look at yourself in the mirror again; it feels so refreshing to actually see yourself healthy, not scrawny and filled with scotches of purple on your skin.

You spent over an hour in the mirror, buttering yourself up with some light makeup of your choice and admiring yourself.

You take the phone from her hand, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you get to his contact. "There is no need to be nervous. I’m sure he’d swoon just from the sound of your voice.” She smiles, making you laugh, and clicks the call button. "Oh, please, he’s not that—

"You finally called."

You shiver at the sound of his voice. Who the hell answers the phone so quickly? “Sorry, but, uh, I was wondering if you could come pick me up." You aren’t sure how the tone of your voice got meek so quickly, but for some reason, it makes him chuckle. “*yea? I’m already on my way.” Maybe you were too sick to realize how hot his voice actually is, even just on the phone.

Candace notices how stiff you are, clearly flustered and shy. She leans to the phone and says, “What a gentleman you are! I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you! She might lose her head if you don’t hurry.” She sings, clicking the red button as you fall into her hug.

You two talk about some things you might be interested in doing in the future, like continuing your career and education in technology or finding a job soon so you can get out of her hair. It really feels nice, like you’re actually becoming something rather than being a little housewife with a fiancé who never took the time to love you.

You drift away from the conversation on cereal before milk when you hear a honk outside. Candace jumps up, holding your hand and guiding you to the door. “I feel like a mother,” she smiles, making you give her a grin. “You’re younger than me!” “But I’m wiser. Have a nice night, hun.” She opens the door for you, giving you the sight of a Black Cadillac parked beside her driveway.

You walked down the driveway nervously, clutching the sides of your dress with your purse in your other hand. Just as you reach the car, Alhaitham gets out, walking around to open your door but stopping you with a hand just barely ghosting your waist.

You two stare into each other's eyes, a light breeze blowing through the evening air as he looks you up and down. while you do the same. It felt like a blessing to be able to see his figure without those stupid scrubs. He wore a gray button-up with black slacks, simple but fitting. with some small amounts of jewelry that complement him well. Before you can even try your hand at being confident, he speaks before you: “You look decent." "I spent over two hours on this outfit! And you say, "Decent?"You huff playfully, the weight of your heart already dissipating when he gives an airy laugh, opening the door.

“Then I apologize..gorgeous." “That is so corny.” You jest, despite the increase in blood flowing to your cheeks. “I tried. But I was honest.” He sighs, almost disappointedly, but is careful of your legs before closing the door. Your mind races as you get comfortable in the car, noticing the light scent of cologne. How fancy.

At least it was better than those strong perfumes. like a dark, regal scent, but brisk.

“I was hoping to make you dinner, and then we can play another game I bought for you.” Alhaitham gets in, buckling up before giving Candace, who stood at her door, a small wave. “Yea?” “Yea.” You smile bashfully, your cheek bones betraying you as you hold your hand out. “I’d like that.” And Alhaitham returns your smile, examining your hand.

No ring. But he already has one in mind.

It’ll be silver.

He puts his hand in yours, interlocking it and squeezing firmly. “And I promise you’ll love it.”

Hopefully, you’ll love him too.

#genshin x female reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #gesnhin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #al haitam x reader #al haithem #alhaitham x female reader

[stormgardenscurse]

‘do you remember? back when…’

Summary: a childhood friends AU! Well, Lilia’s is more like ‘back in our youth’ rather than childhood, but you get the gist.

Characters: Lilia, Malleus, Riddle, Jamil, Vil

Content warning: the Reader is gender neutral, but it’s mentioned they’ve worn dresses in Malleus’ part.

If you liked this, consider checking out my TWST Isekai Fanbook, now digitally available on my kofi!

Lilia Vanrouge

Back when you were both training to be knights, you mistook Lilia for a girl at first. 

In your defense, it’s simply because of how pretty he is, yet so cutthroat and lithe on his feet that you swear this is what they mean by ‘angels of death’ descending on a battlefield. 

Lilia calls you weird for comparing him to that when he much prefers to think of himself as some type of demon, or harbinger of doom.

“Do I still not look intimidating enough for you?” He’d asked, sharp teeth flashing with the question as the both of you leaned against the railings on the castle rooftop. Lilia angles his head back to gaze at you, and you think to yourself how it exposes the pale skin of his neck, which he’d never show to any opponent in a fight.

Two of your fingers reach to tap on that expanse of skin, causing Lilia to freeze from the contact. He tilts his head, comfortable enough that he hasn’t decided to shove you away yet. 

“It’s just… you seem more mortal to me.” You shrug. “As mortal as a fae can be, anyways. I can reach out and touch you, and I would walk away unharmed.”

“That’s because I allow you to.” Lilia rolls his eyes. He finally steps away, picking up his weapon — heavy and gleaming emerald. From beneath his lashes, he gives you a challenging smile as he flips and catches it in his hand. “Care to spar before we turn in for the night?”

“Maybe you’re a vampire after all.” You pretend to be tired of his late requests, but follow Lilia down to the training grounds regardless. “The kind that human kingdoms are romanticizing in their newest novels. Sparkly under the sunlight.”

“If you’d like to sleep already, I’d be more than happy to croon you a lullaby.”

“You’ll only do so after I’m defeated on the ground, I’m sure.” With a pause, you give Lilia a proposal. “If I win, I’ll sing to you instead. But I’m not carrying you back to your dorm.”

“Oh? It’s a deal, then.”

Ever since, you can’t be sure if Lilia likes to throw your sparring matches just for the chance to hear you sing. You don’t often do so (you’re knights, after all), so he regards it as a secret side of you that only he gets to witness. You only come to this contemplation after feelings spark between you — face flushed as you wonder what to do next when you’ve fallen for someone so impossible.

He’s already been keeping you up at night with his nocturnal tendencies and hangouts… and now this?! 

Malleus Draconia

It helps that as children, you never truly processed who Malleus was until a little later in your friendship. You were told he’s the son of the royal advisor, and so you prattled to him with questions of what the crown prince is like. He’d answer vaguely, sometimes saying that His Royal Highness has bad habits, and you’d nod along, hanging onto his every word.

Malleus soon realizes that you don’t care as much for ‘the prince’ as much as you did for him as your mysterious friend. You were both lonely noble-children, and you enjoyed sharing treats, flowers, and any new thing you could with Malleus. Once, he even tried on the trendiest dresses with you out of curiosity, and you lamented the fact that he could’ve made a beautiful girl.

No one would dare say that to him in any lifetime, other than you. Though to be fair, you didn’t know he was the prince yet. 

“Flowers look wonderful in your hair! Since it’s dark, they stand out.” You continue weaving yellow and blue blooms into Malleus’ locks. “...Hey, what do you think life would be like if we were regular children?”

“Not nobles, you mean?” He hums, helping you decorate your hair once you’re done with his. He casts an easy spell to dye your hair with highlights to match the dress. “I suppose we’d be towns-children frolicking without a care in the world.”

“We’d still be friends, right…?”

Malleus pauses at the anxious edge in your voice. Perhaps you were just as reliant on this comforting friendship as he was. He tells himself to hide his status for a little while longer. “Of course. Our parents would still be acquainted, and we’d still have playdates — only running through the roads rather than castle halls.”

It’s hard to find a real friend amongst noble children. Some cling to their families, others are picky or judgmental, and…

A lot are only friends for as long as the other is useful.

“We should have an outing in the city one day.” You smile, trying to fight away the heavy air. “I’m sure you’d like the marketplace. I’ve only seen it from inside a carriage, but it looks fun.”

Soon, the outing is arranged. However…

“Before we go, there’s something I need to tell you.” Malleus takes your hands in his, squeezing them as if to ground himself in the moment. Time passes quickly for the fae, but his heart is beating out of his chest at what your reaction might be.

…He ends up delaying this reveal until the end of your excursion. But the last thing he expects is for your eyes to well up with tears and for you to latch onto him in a hug.

“I’m… I’m so sorry—! If only I was more reliable, you wouldn’t have to keep this a secret, and…”

As you let out a hiccup and continue apologizing, Malleus’ confusion melts into a soft smile, hugging you back. 

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s mother didn’t know about your existence for a while, as you’d always sneak over to his window after she left the house. You claimed you knew how accomplished his family is, so you told Riddle you’d prepare for a better impression in the future! “That way, we can hang out normally or study together!”

Truth be told, the only studying you’re interested in is with practical magic — as another child with an affinity with magic, you’ve been going to the library often to read up on theories, experimenting with what spells you can do.

As worried as Riddle is for your safety (you’ve been doing all this without supervision), he’s also very curious about watching magic unfold from your own hands. You showed him a color changing spell once, surprising him by appearing with a different appearance — it was cute how he panicked, thinking you went ahead and dyed your entire head pink.

“And nothing hurts? No side effects?” He asked.

“Nope! And one day, we can both attend a magic school and do spells like these all the time!”

One day… Despite how he’s temporarily stuck at home still, adhering to his mother’s strict rules, he clings onto the hope that it’ll fruition in him becoming a great mage. Then, when that happens, he can be the one to wow you with magic you haven’t seen before. Just as you have all these months, visiting with the intention of cheering him up or encouraging him. 

On rare days, you manage to sneak Riddle out of the window for a quick visit to the park or library. There, with his heart thumping out of his chest, he’d marvel at the world you’re so familiar with already, and so willing to place into his unsteady palms.

“Can you read that?” You ask, pointing at a passage in a history book. While technically rebelling, you still chose a book on the same topic Riddle was meant to study at home.

“Yes, it’s…” As Riddle translates the scripture, he realizes you’re listening very intently. And all of a sudden, the closeness of your seats in the corner of the library makes him flush, realizing how you’ve always spoken to him kindly. Different from the playful tones you used at the start of your friendship, or currently do with the acquaintances he’s seen you greet along the way.

It’s been a while since he’s felt special, especially as the sentiment expired after years of his mother claiming he had a gift; that because he had the potential to be perfect, it'd come at a price of overwhelming pressure.

So why does your kind of ‘special’ feel like a balm? 

Jamil Viper

Between his busy schedule working for the Al-Asims, it’s all Jamil can do to relax in the solitude of his own room… that is, until you’re temporarily displaced from your own, and have been allocated to bunk with Jamil since he’s ‘very capable’ and close to your age. Another bed is moved in. There’s still space, but Jamil dislikes having his privacy encroached upon.

The two of you never interacted before this, but he’s seen you around the mansion before doing chores and learning from the head servants. You aren’t too chatty, Jamil thinks, until you finally break it to him after the night of a banquet (the both of you too tired to keep up appearances, slumped on your respective beds), that he frowns a lot. And that’s why you haven’t spoken to him much until now.

Jamil blinks once, then twice. “I do?” He’s always been good at controlling his facial expressions—

“Yeah, when you think people aren’t looking.” You raise a finger in the air. “Especially when the meals aren’t to your liking, you tend to look around with judgmental eyes.”

“So you watch me when we’re at work.”

“Only because you never looked like you wanted to talk.” It’s not accusatory, merely an observation from you. With a sigh, Jamil falls on his back against the mattress. “Did you see the performers at the banquet?”

“The dancers were great. I saw them practicing in the morning before the event.” Jamil answers. It’s the first time you’re having a proper conversation, and while he’s not as chatty as Kalim (who he’s normally assigned to watch), you feel at ease. 

“I remember them! The kitchen was handing out meals to the staff, and I was one of the delivery people.”

“Did you help cook too? There wasn’t enough salt in the curry.”

“You—! Then come and help us yourself!”

“Too much work.” Jamil pushes himself up on his elbows just to stick his tongue out at you, before turning to lay on his side. “We should rest. Tomorrow the guests are leaving, so the suites have to be cleaned.”

Even after you move back to your room, you spend time with Jamil, running off to the market after visiting family, and watching street performers and food vendors go about their day. On rare occasions, you knock on his window when you have a bad dream, and Jamil groggily holds up a conversation until you’ve calmed down. The stars are especially twinkly on those nights, as if they’re another witness to the friendship you shared beneath busy days and tall adults.

“Do you think we’d make good adults, Jamil?”

“Not many adults are good at it either. So we’ll be fine.”

“Well… That’s true. Goodnight, Jamil.”

“...Goodnight. Sleep tight.”

Vil Schoenheit 

When you first met Vil as kids, you were intimidated by him not because he acted in evil roles, but because he had the aura of an adult.

“It’s weird… you look my age, but walk and talk like a grown-up.”

“Hm, I guess that’s not too bad of an impression. …What’s your name?”

You were next-door neighbors, and suffice to say your interests lied more in pop-culture as an audience rather than as an artist on-stage. It’s a world away from Vil who’s a child-actor and upcoming model, but when he’s not pursuing such work, he’s still just a boy.

…A boy who you were very surprised to see act his age, when he was with his father or smiled as he told you about the movies they starred in. You’d always listen, realizing that while Vil was always pretty, he’s even more eye-catching when he’s rambling about something he’s passionate about. It almost makes you want to grow up quickly too and pursue your own dreams.

No one would see this side of him outside the comfort of your homes, though. Vil has an image to uphold (at least, you’re quite sure he’s trying to craft a persona for the camera, considering how he asks you what you think an actor’s personality should be like), so you try and cover for him when strangers ask about Vil. Giving just enough praise without revealing too much, since they might be reporters:

“He’s really hard-working and nice to others! Vil even explains his work to me if I ask. You can tell he really loves acting.”

“Oh? You sound like you admire him a lot.”

“Well… lots of people do. Once you meet him, you’ll realize he’s like a diamond!”

Word of your comments gets to Vil, and he seems to be in a good mood, explaining to you that it sounds like something a fan would say. “...One day, I’ll have as many fans as my dad does.”

It becomes routine for Vil to knock on your door whenever he gets a new script. He likes having you watch him rehearse and give him your thoughts, amongst other things like discussing the story and causing the both of you to become invested in the plot. 

You’re sworn to secrecy, of course, since you can’t leak the movie’s details. And after you’re a bit older, Vil instead makes it a game to read random lines to you, then asking you to make up the rest of the story (it’s a good improv session, even if your conversations devolve into ridiculous scenarios.)

You got each other parting gifts after you were accepted into different colleges; Vil’s to you is a ‘poisoned flower’, which is to say, an artificial flower scented to help you sleep. It’s so you can get proper rest instead of scrolling on your phone, Vil claims. And of course, you’re added into his personal Magicam to get life updates — even now, when asked who you were texting with a smile on your face, you keep Vil’s secret and claim it’s just a childhood friend: 

“He’s in Night Raven College.”

“Oh, the same one Vil Schoenheit is in?”

“The very one! Pretty impressive, huh?”

#lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst reader insert #twst x you #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #storm writings

[itsabouttimex2]

Platonic yandere shadowpeach x teenager daughter dating redson

(First ship I’ve explicitly been asked to write for. Not too surprised that it was Shadowpeach! I’ve written for Wukong and Macaque’s reaction to dating Red Son here!)

(Also, I’ve got a questionnaire if anyone would like to help me with my blog)

Platonic Yandere Shadowpeach

Sun Wukong and Macaque should; in theory, balance each other out. One is bright and forthcoming, the other is secluded and scheming. One is a glittering ray of sunshine that everyone looks towards for safety and salvation, the other a beam of moonlight slinking about unseen in the shadows.

They should get along. They’ve both got a penchant for the dramatic, and take interest in different arts- one in drawing, one in performing. The two are both fond of food and wildlife.

They should be capable of getting along.

But they don’t. Or maybe they can’t.

They’re both too arrogant, too worn, too hurt to be something healthy or happy or wholesome. Why they’ve rushed into this relationship before either had begun to heal and forgive and truly make amends is anyone’s guess, but there’s one thing you know for certain-

You’re the glue holding this ramshackle family together.

A joke long ago led to your birth, two offerings of blood thrown blasphemously into a sacred vase of jade. Wukong had laughed and pitched down a measure of fresh blood from his chest, then Macaque frowned and followed along, dropping a handful of dried flakes gathered from a wrapped wound on his head.

Neither had bothered to read beyond a scant few characters carved on the vase, speaking of ‘rituals’ and ‘blood’ and ‘growing’- and both stopped short when their eyes fell upon ‘Guanyin’, goddess of mercy and compassion.

Immediately, Wukong had started an exuberant and loud routine of sacrilege, prodding the vase and shaking it, mockingly yelling into it and pretending to be a mortal pleading futilely for help from the heavens- right before he decided to take his disrespect a bit further.

“Bud,” the Monkey King hollered excitedly, bouncing on his heels, “Come here, come here! I have a great idea!”

Macaque cautiously uncovered his ears once the yelling had stopped, trudging over to the jade-hewn vase to stand beside his partner. “Uh, Wukong… I don’t know if messing with a sacred vase is all that great of an idea-“

“Hush! Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, bud! We’re gonna toss in a little bit of blood and see how sacred this silly thing really is!”

(Macaque would come to regret many things about has past- but being swayed by Wukong to participate in this sacrilegious ritual would not be amongst the list of them.)

Their blood alike; wrenched from beside Sun’s heart and pulled from the place nearest Macaque’s brain, dripped to the very bottom of the open-mouthed vase, mixing and melding as they oozed down. The blessed container rattled once, twice- then stopped short and went still.

The sudden halt had Wukong howling with laughter, doubled over and wiping tears from his eyes. “Of course not! Like the gods would do anything for the people down here,” he loudly called, as if trying to reach his accusations to the heavens through sheer volume. For good measure, he had given the precious vase a kick, rattling it around.

And listened as something thudded around at the bottom.

Macaque had turned on his sable heel at the sound, scurrying back over to his now alert partner. The demon’s eyes scrunched with worry as Wukong stuffed his arms all the way into the vase, gripping whatever sat at the previously empty bottom. His hand shifted to rest on the end of Wukong’s tiger-hide skirt, though it was more for his own comfort- a way to keep close to his exuberant partner without impeding his arms.

“It’s a baby,” Wukong had stated in awe, a rare note of outright reverence in his voice as he pulled your form past the jade maw of the vase and into his arms. “Bud, this thing just made a baby!”

For a few minutes, neither dared to speak. They just stood and stared, trying to register just how far this little ‘joke’ had spiraled.

Common sense quickly kicked in, leaving Macaque to pry you from his partner, staring down at you with softened eyes.

“Look at her- she’s ours, bud,” the Great Sage announced with pride, and few would have dared to argue with him.

A child fresh to the world, born from dregs of demon blood and formed by sacred jade, with fur and a tail and golden, glowing eyes to prove that you were theirs.

“…never knew I’d be a father,” Macaque quietly says, wrapping you in the long red scarf he always wore.

“Never knew we’d be fathers,” comes his partner’s supportive voice, a rare tone for the Monkey King. Wukong steps forward and slings an arm around Macaque’s neck, hauling him close.

“But I wouldn’t trade this family for the world.”

You had grown up happy and safe, surrounded by uncles whose names had been your first words. Each one was an inspiration to you, standing proud as they walked in lockstep and wielded mighty weapons. They had been your heroes, every last one of them. You wanted to be strong and intelligent and graceful and noble, to be all that they were and even more.

When it had been them and your fathers, everything had been at least fine, when not outright good.

Learning to read maps with Uncle Yellowtusk. Eavesdropping on fights caused by training mishaps. Hunting with Uncle Bull. Getting scolded for messing with weapons without permission. Uncle Peng teaching you how to gut rabbits and fish. Climbing onto shoulders and backs so you wouldn’t fall underfoot.

Everything with Uncle Azure.

Listening close to his stories and relishing his kind touch, letting him braid your hair and fix your clothes. Sitting on his knees and sharing your food, trying new things with his gentle encouragement. Staying up far too late to stargaze with him before falling asleep in his arms, wrapped in his cape.

It had been family, however unorthodox.

But not all families are built to last- some crumble and sever, instead.

One fight years later had been the tipping point between your fathers, leaving Macaque to cart you away over his shoulder as he sulked away through the shadows, putting as much distance between himself and Wukong as possible- he still had you, Macaque reminds himself.

None of the past mattered if he could focus on a bright future with his daughter. The two of you. Alone. No brothers, no partners- just a father and his daughter. No more teasing remarks or being spoken over or dragged along on dangerous missions for a futile cause.

Just him and you.

And that works for all of five centuries, before there’s a ‘parent swap’ and one of your fathers is dead with a glittering gold staff struck through his flesh and bone, poking in through his eye and out through his skull.

Macaque’s blood; freshly splattered across you, hadn’t even dried before Wukong had swept you into his arms with a guttural scream of both sorrow and relief. His child, at the cost of his partner.

Not a fair trade. But one he chose to make anyways.

The Great Sage holds you close, pressing kisses to your forehead and wiping away your fearful tears. He whispers into your ear about how safe you are now, how you won’t ever be alone or scared again. How he’s back and so, so sorry that it took so long to find and save you, that he’ll protect you from now on.

And how he won’t let you go ever again.

How could he? You’re his.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque #Macaque #Yandere Father #Yandere Shadowpeach #Shadowpeach

[hotchfiles]

↪ day two. the one who got away — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [no rainfall, no sunshine] ❞

pairing: aaron hotchner x rossi!reader. summary: if there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against aaron. he’s cursed, he knows it. content warnings: major character death (reader), blood, funeral, grief. fem reader, she/her pronouns used by the end. word count: 1.1k

      Time stood still for what felt like hours, he couldn’t feel his limbs, his legs didn’t move, his mind full of racing thoughts but none making any sense, too jumbled together to be able to complete a single line of action, his eyes burnt and blinking away he noticed it was due the tears. Aaron’t didn’t bother to clean them. 

      Not like this. Not right now. 

      The blurriness begins to fade as the sirens became louder, Aaron tries to run as his legs obey him once more, but he’s stopped by Derek’s arms, holding him back at full force and yelling his name. The yelling seems far away even though it’s in front of him. 

      “Morgan! Let me go, let me go!” He tries to give his most stern look, his throat is dry and voice cracks out as he tries to be heard over the commotion, Spencer and Emily bring helping arms, stopping him from trying. “Does she have a pulse? Why aren’t they taking her already?”

      All he can see is red, from the ambulances, from the sirens, from the blood splattered in the white blouse you chose to wear to work that day. The blue badge hanging on your pocket proudly where red touched: Blood and bloodline, Rossi.

      “Where’s Dave?” Realization dawns on him, he couldn’t get to you because it wasn’t good, and your father was nowhere to be found. “Where’s Ros–Did anyone call David?” It’s all happening fast, in seconds, minutes, but he still isn’t able to let your last name slip out of his tongue, hurting as he thought so. 

      You’re finally placed on a gurney and he feels a tiny bit of hope, ready to fight the arms of his colleagues, his family, to run to you. 

      His knees fail him before he could, a dark tarp being pulled over you, your arm slipping from the gurney, lifeless. 

      Not like this. Not again. 

      Derek tries to stop him from falling to the pavement, but the weight of his body giving up is too much. Aaron ends up sitting on the sidewalk, unable to speak, unable to listen to any comfort anyone tried to bring him. He’s cursed. He’s sure of it now. 

      If there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against Aaron. He’s cursed, he knows it. 

      “I didn’t tell her–I thought I had time–I didn’t tell her…” He’s a mumbling barely understandable mess and after that it all mixes up together, all sounds, all images turning into one big blur that turned into the sight of your body being carried away. 

      Next thing he knows he’s at the hospital even though he’s not allowed to recognize your body, he’s not family, even though he had just a week before started to look for engagement rings, he’s not family yet. He didn’t buy one, he didn’t propose. 

      He can’t sign any papers regarding your death off because he took too long to ask you to go to a courthouse with him, get married, sign papers proving you were part of him as much as he was a part of you instead. All Aaron could do was sit down on the first chair he could find, eyes glued to his own hands, sweaty, white from his mental state but clean; not bloody like yours when it dropped from the gurney. 

      He doesn’t know how much time passes, JJ sits by his side, offers him water, coffee, tells him they’ve called home to tell Jessica to keep Jack for a few more hours. 

      Home. The word alone makes his skin crawl but he doesn’t have enough time to dwell into it, the shuffling of Dave’s quick steps snapping him out of it quickly enough for him to watch the older’s hand closed into a fist, the punch to his jaw was the obvious next step but he didn’t move, accepting it gratefully as it was his fault. 

      It’s the first time he sees David cry and he’s expecting yelling, but he feels arms around him instead. 

      They cry together. Your father tells him he’s sorry for his first reaction, but he knows that’s gonna go deep into Aaron’s unconscious for a long time. 

      It wasn’t his fault, everyone around him kept telling him that and the rational part of his brain did too, but he couldn’t let go of how you were alone because of him. Because of how he reacted when you suggested moving in together, getting a bigger place with a backyard for Jack. 

      Aaron told you it was too soon, that Jack had enough change in his life, that you needed to take things slow. He told you no because he was afraid, terrified of ruining things that were already too good to be true. 

      You weren’t happy with his response, you went back to your apartment. You were alone. 

      It was an accident, you stepped on the road too soon, the truck never saw you coming, there was a series of hits after that, several injured, only you fatal. He couldn’t blame anyone, so he blamed himself. It wouldn’t happen if you were with him. 

      The funeral tears him apart, Jack didn’t cry when his mom died, not at first, he didn’t understand, but now he was old enough to understand a funeral meant he would never see you again, so he sobbed embraced by Joy, she had tears herself streaming down her eyes from losing her half sister. Just a reminder of another person Aaron failed. 

      Your father gives a speech about how he wished he had more time, how glad he was about the time he had and tries to lift up the mood by saying that at least he wouldn’t have to look for a murderer, you hated his books about it after all. 

      No one was sure if Aaron would speak, knowing that doing that once was enough for a lifetime, but he needed to, he needed to say it out loud, even if you couldn’t hear it. 

      “I was always terrified I was going to bite more than I could chew with her–” He smiles to himself, memories of you flooding his mind, “She was a force of nature, and I loved her, I did. I love her still. And I never told her that, she was so patient with me and I never told her how much I love her because I was scared.” He had so much more to say, but he knew he would break down if another word left his lips, so he just stepped aside, taking Jack in his arms to comfort and be comforted by his little boy. 

      He couldn’t sleep that night, or the ones that followed, thinking about how if he told you before how much he loved you, even if you knew without it, if he looked for rings earlier, if he bought one, proposed, if he just got over his fear of losing people and kissed you when you suggested moving in with him… You wouldn’t have slipped through his fingers like that. 

      Aaron is cursed, he knows that.  

#marchhotchness #lari march hotchness #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

[krypticcafe]

May I request call of duty boys with an autistic s/o? As an autistic person I think they’d all be very helpful with their partner and their needs. Their partner is having a bit of a rough day and they’ve gone nonverbal and just need the comfort of a safe person so they can unmask. (I totally hc Ghost as autistic so maybe he and his partner just vibe in silence together)

COD:MW boys w/an autistic partner

rating: general

character(s): GN!Reader, John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo Parra, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Hound

word count: ~5.2k

warning(s): possible inaccuracies, mentions of autism symptoms, mentions of masking, lotsa comfort 'n fluff

a/n: as per usual, feel free to tell me if I've misrepresented or misinformed. I'm undiagnosed, but extremely certain that I'm ND so I've included experiences I found that I share with autism symptoms :] On the other hand, idgaf about realistic military limits on medical issues and medication, this is literally fanfiction and not that deep.

beta reader: ChordataUtopia on ao3

Price

I'd like to think with his time in the military, he's probably had acquaintances, friends, or subordinates who are on the spectrum, so at the very least, he knows what to expect and has a few mental notes on it.

So it's not a problem for him when he sees it on your file.

It's when you become a thing that he actually starts researching about it, and really in-depth, the same way he would when doing background checks.

He's a pretty fast talker, so you have trouble keeping up with all the info he throws at you sometimes. At first, he thought you weren't paying attention, but then he realized you just had issues trying to process so much at once, which is vastly different when compared to how he can take in a bunch at a time. He's learned to be more concise, and surprisingly, it's helped some of the others on the team, too.

One of the perks of dating a captain is getting to know the plans and schedules ahead of everyone and being one of the first to know about any last-minute alterations.

Whenever you're starting to feel overstimulated on base, Price has an eye out for you and calls you to his office. It's a subtle and easy way for him to take you out of a situation and pull you somewhere safe. After all, no one bothers to question the captain's orders.

Although the military doesn't really have quiet rooms, the two of you found that his office is the only place aside from your shared quarters where you can feel safe and sound. Everyone respects Price's office space, so it's always nice and tranquil there. He's used to this one-on-one time so he keeps your favorite drink in a mini-fridge, something for you to fidget with quietly, and an extra comfy chair for you, along with medication if you need any.

Turns out, the voice of a captain is also helpful for keeping you grounded. It isn't aggressive, it isn't demanding, it's firm. He helps keep you in the moment when you feel your mind drift from your body, whether in private or on a mission. He's also direct and doesn't beat around the bush, so misunderstandings are rare.

If you take medication, it used to be difficult for you to get it restocked. Healthcare system and all its perks. But now, after dating John, strangely enough, it seems you get it on time almost always and hand-delivered by him. Hm.

His favorite thing to do is to listen to your rambles while he does his paperwork. You're worried you're bothering him, but he just responds with, "Not at all, love. I wouldn't trade this moment for the world," and tells you to continue discussing whatever you are particularly interested or fascinated about.

John doesn't tell you, but he sometimes wishes he had more paperwork just to spend more time with you in the office.

Gaz

Probably has had neurodivergent friends or family, and doesn't know a lot about the matter, but he's open-minded from the start.

He's a quick learner, too. Not just in combat but with your relationship. He notices your little habits, what makes you tick, and what keeps you in the zone.

And thank whatever being above that you were blessed with such a patient man. If you're having difficulties wrapping your head around a concept or directions, he'll explain it in a way you can understand. Sometimes, people talk too fast, too quietly, or too vague. Gaz finds that there's no shame in it.

One of the things he notices is that sometimes you mimic how he talks, like certain phrases or words. Especially if you're non-UK. Some of your repeated phrases are "oh my days", "cheers", or "takin' the piss". Fluent accent and all. He doesn't find it insulting or strange, he thinks it's actually pretty cute and doesn't poke fun at you for it.

Usually, he's not a fan of when people get too chatty with him, but it's you. He can't find himself getting irritated when you're talking so passionately about your special interest, latest hyper fixation, or whatever got to you because he knows you're being your genuine self and not talking out of your ass.

Your eyes light up, you're no longer using the tone of a soldier with all its formalities, yet you articulate the more and more you converse with him. Your hands even start to fidget and flap when you get deep in discussion.

"Keep going, love. I'm listening." He smiles at you from the corner of his eye, reorganizing his locker. It's meaningful to him, being the one person you trust to listen and engage when you need a break from masking.

He's got an eye for when you're having an out-of-body experience, helping you keep your head in missions without belittling you for feeling elsewhere.

Overstimulated or overwhelmed? Don't worry, he's got you. Kyle has his headphones on him a lot of the time whenever he can. When he sees your eyes looking in the distance or darting around while you feel your skin itch and your mind's a blur, he pops them on you and turns up a playlist he's made with your favorites.

In other cases, he's either scouting a spot for you to retreat to or verbally guiding you until you can unwind.

Sometimes when he can't immediately stick to your side or assist you, he'll take his cap and put it on you with a gentle smile. It's his way of saying that he notices you and to hang on just a bit, he'll be right there as soon as he's done, love.

Ghost

Autistic Ghost truther right here!!

I like to think Ghost always suspected he wasn't neurotypical, and would eventually get diagnosed. But ever since meeting you, it's only sped up his realization. Especially when he saw the difference between whether you're masking or not. It really hit him like a barrel of trucks that day.

He came to you first about it, trying to play it off as curiosity and just wanting to be more informed, but even if you aren't well-versed with body language or small cues, you could just tell that the gears were starting to turn in his head.

While you knew numerous factors led to your blossoming relationship, you like to think the trust you two built after you helped him come to terms with his autism kickstarted it all.

You quickly realized how much of it has gone unnoticed, how eerily good he was at masking himself. He claimed he was more comfortable with the 141 and that outside of that, he was just fulfilling his role as lieutenan- oh my god, you're right.

He gets ticked off when there's a change in plans if a last-minute decision is made but he bites his tongue about it, despises it when people aren't straightforward, prefers bluntness, sits in the far and darker corners of the mess hall where it's calmer, or just avoids it altogether and eats in his room, doesn't understand when people think he's being rude or mean, the list goes on.

There is... a lot to uncover.

But it's all worth it for the little things.

Like when you two created a subtle way to tell each other "I love you" when the words won't come out, three little taps on the inside of the wrist.

Or when you both need to unwind after a particularly triggering mission and you just can't articulate yourselves. No one else notices it and passes it off as you two just being quieter than you usually are, but the two of you catch onto each other like wildfire.

You'll retreat into your quarters and sit on the bed, back-to-back in the dark, where Simon can pull off the mask to just breathe and you can just feel. A comfortable silence lingers in the air while your hearts sync until one of you breaks the silence.

"Absolute trainwreck that one was, huh?" One of you dryly chuckles.

And the other mutters back, "You can say that again."

There's this one particular memory he has of when you surprised him with a gift one day. He wasn't much of a taker than a giver, but seeing how giddy you were, he couldn't decline.

Opening it, he was surprised with a custom butterfly knife, an obsidian-black handle with silver engravings of skulls, thorns, and roses, along with his initials on the blade. You remembered his interest in knives and how he tended to mess with them as a stim, so you bought him a knife he could flip around smoothly and quietly while still keeping up appearances.

With the way he looked at it, someone would've assumed you just proposed to him with a diamond ring or something.

You expected him to put it in his collection, but he uses it a lot in his spare time.

He keeps it in top condition and never leaves it unless he has to.

Soap

He's heard of it, met people with it, though he doesn't quite understand it yet. Johnny's tried to look into it but finds most sources sound contradicting to each other or just don't make sense compared to the experiences you describe and the ones that others have.

You tell him it's fine, you appreciate the effort, and it's okay if he occasionally asks questions when appropriate.

If there's one thing about him, it's that he's quick and creative when it comes to accommodating you. He carries extra earplugs with him on missions and comes up with signals for you to use when you have trouble expressing, so it's easier for him to figure out what you need (turns out he's a visual learner, too).

He makes it ridiculously easy to unmask, too, always so happy to see you, to listen, to talk—he just loves you so much. Something about his energy and how he can slowly and gently open you up like a treasured, well-kept, and well-loved book with just that sweet tone of his.

Sometimes when you're stuck in your head, he pretends he's performing surgery to remove your brain or something, making little silly little noises and tracing your forehead like he's cutting it, a little pop! and he's all "Now you cannae think 'bout anythin'", and it's so stupid but works.

You find the best thing he can do is just hold you. He's got this firm hold that makes you feel like you're wrapped in a warm blanket and a strong heartbeat that reverberates through you. You'd tend to count the beats in your head and just allow yourself to be absorbed in his embrace.

It's all just a few of the numerous things he's done to improve your relationship.

But you have to be real with him for a moment.

You guys know that one tiktok audio? The one that's like:

"I ain't sure what HD is but the doctor said I got 80 of them bitches! WOOO—"

Yeah, Johnny, don't think we haven't noticed.

One day, he lightheartedly jokes that he relates to some of what you go through and that maybe he's autistic, too.

"Well... you're not too far off."

"Haha, what?"

So turns out the MacTavish family has a whole history of ADHD and ADD. His family's always had an inkling, but Soap's natural personality just really blurred the lines.

To be honest, it was so obvious. The way the two of you would parrot each other and your teammates, how he banged his fists on tables whenever he got really excited or antsy, couldn't stand still when he'd constantly be shifting his weight between his feet, popped his lips to break silence, all the impulses that get him in trouble a lot of the time, random bouts of eery calmness, his hyperfocus when working on a new project, the time you caught him unconsciously imitating the sound of the heart monitor after he nearly blew himself up in an accident, you get the idea.

Soap's love language, from physical affection and words of affirmation, is gift-giving! The moment he sees something that reminds him of you, what you like, or something you've been talking about a lot lately, he gets so excited to see your reaction when he surprises you with it and is practically bouncing with anticipation.

Definitely made you cute little cue cards with silly doodles, and even some with Scottish slang. He was especially proud of these.

Roach

He gets you. He really, really, really gets you.

Roach, are you perhaps neurodivergent?

You wouldn't be surprised. You figured he was ever since he explained how he wasn't Deaf or completely mute. He just said he felt nonverbal a lot of the time, selectively mute. That was something that really clicked with you.

In fact, you found he was the easiest to talk to about it. He didn't have many questions other than asking what made you uncomfortable and if you wanted him to teach you some ASL.

You said yes, of course.

Before you were a couple, you were best friends. Practically inseparable with energies complimenting each other. No one was surprised when you guys became public, much to your own surprise.

Learning ASL has been one of the most helpful things Roach has done for your guys' relationship; you don't feel as isolated in your nonverbal state. It also helps clear up misunderstandings with the rest of the team sometimes when one of you can communicate on the other's part. You still struggle with some expressions periodically, but you're pretty fluent!

There is so much open communication in your relationship, it's just a fresh breath of air, holy shit. But the negative part to that is when there is a misunderstanding, it can get a little messy, not horrible, but just kind of overwhelming for the both of you where you need to take a breather and just tune out in your heads for a bit before you can approach each other again.

Overstimulation comes more easily to you than it does to Roach, so you often find yourself either going to him or him leading you somewhere more private where you can quietly wind down.

On a more positive note, you guys have the most energetic of conversations. You'll both be spewing out hyperfixes, random thoughts, and interests, some of Roach's being random facts about zoology or history facts (his favorite are the world wars, unsurprisingly).

"The Egyptians believed that the most significant thing you could do with your life was die."

"Sick."

You two jump from subject to subject, then return to one only to forget what you were supposed to talk about, then move on to something else before remembering what was supposed to be said, and then dropping the conversation altogether like nothing happened.

The entirety of Task Force 141 and SpecGru has given up on trying to interrupt these moments for any reason besides work, it's been proven fruitless. You guys are simply too far in the deep end, there is no saving from hyperfix hell.

Gary's also like a crow, he memorized your interests and whenever he sees something related to that, like a trinket when he's out and about, he'll buy it for you. You two do this to the point where it's kinda getting cluttered in your quarters...

Alejandro

Yeah, I'm afraid he's a little undereducated about it, growing up in an environment with a stigma over mental health issues type of deal.

Don't worry, he's not bigoted by any means, just confused about what it's exactly about because of how much misinformation is out there. I think there was a time when he might've believed in some stereotypes and acted rudely about it, except that was when he was really young and dumb.

When he told you this, it broke your heart, but for a different reason. You told him it wasn't his fault, he was raised in an environment that provided little awareness on the issue, that's just how many people are raised. As much as you hate to admit it, that's just how the majority of the world is. What matters is that he acknowledged he was wrong, and that he was just a kid.

"You're too kind, mi sol," He murmurs, pressing a kiss on your knuckles.

"And you're too hard on yourself, love." You respond, cradling the side of his face with a smile.

Unintentionally or not, meeting you led him to realize he might have his own difficulties with his mental health. After all, being colonel would take a toll on anyone, and after the events involving the Shadows? He needs a break above anyone else in the Vaqueros.

Much like Price, he's learned to create as much of a supportive environment for you and the rest of his soldiers with a general no-tolerance policy on ableist bullshit.

Sometimes, it can be a little challenging for him to reach out to you or vice versa, largely because of his busy schedule and job as commander. He can't indulge you as much as he wishes. Patience was something the two of you had to learn and overcome in your relationship.

But if you really need him, or if you're having a difficult time while he's preoccupied, you give him a few taps on the shoulder, and he gives you a nod mid-conversation with a subordinate. At the end of the day, he comes and finds you, and asks you a few questions you can answer with a simple nod or shake of your head. You trace a heart into his palm, a straightforward reminder, and he smiles and kisses your forehead.

It takes a while, but he carefully unravels you with gentle comfort, just holding you, and taking your time. He's not the most patient man, but for you, he certainly tries. When you finally start returning to yourself, no longer the soldier or the "different one". Just you. He greets you with a kiss and listens to whatever you say for the rest of the night.

It's worth the wait, so long as you're in his arms.

Rodolfo

Rudy has a similar situation to Alejandro. The only difference is that it never quite sat right with him as a kid. Ultimately, it led him to educate himself and seek out actual resources.

He could never understand the stigma, too naive as a child only to find out the truth when he was older. Somehow, it hurt him too, maybe because of how he shared some qualities.

He figured he wasn't autistic, but he knew he wasn't neurotypical either, tiny impulses here and there constantly proving him right, ways that he didn't connect with other people. Meeting you had only confirmed it for himself.

At first, he never noticed it, you were usually masking in front of them all anyway. But when he started to spend more time with you in between missions and get to know the real you, he started to see how vastly different you were when he first met you.

The comment slips out and he apologizes, but you laugh it off as his friend and closest confidant. It's hard to really put it into words, but he understands, he always does. You learn that early on in your relationship.

Instead of words, he uses gestures to console you. Acts of service is his kind of love language. Helping you with your work, doing all the chores you couldn't bring yourself to do that day, the simple things. Mugs of warm drinks, a little mazapán or gansito, a treat to quell your mind a little. A small nostalgic snack break always helps him in hard times between all the work, so he hopes you enjoy them, too. Expect him to join you whenever he's feeling a little out of it.

You worry that it feels like an excuse to hog him to yourself when it isn't. He's always willing—even if it was a ploy, he wouldn't mind it all that much. Seeing you ease up makes him come out of his shell, too. It's something good for both of you.

"Need a refill, cariño?"

You shake your head, "No, just... stay? Please?"

"Of course." He beams in a way that has your heart nearly skipping a beat despite how long you've been together. Maybe you should marry him on the spot.

There are moments when he holds you that you hear him humming his favorite songs. You tell him he has a wonderful voice, but he bashfully denies it. However, it doesn't stop him from humming, not when it helps bring you back down to earth or get a compliment out of you after some silence.

König

Doesn't exactly know what it is, thought it was like a bad trait or something because someone called him autistic once as a kid, but in a derogatory way. Made you go 'yikes' and explain the whole thing. He apologized for his initial shock when you told him you were autistic and felt disgusted when he realized why he was called that back then.

He's quick to pick up on your cues, mood differences, or how you process things. After all, he gave himself a trained eye from all that sniper training.

The first time you were nonverbal around him, he was slightly worried. It was after an arduous mission that had you completely knackered, mentally and physically. He thought you were in a state of shock or something, and he was about to call a medic before you dragged him away and had to physically force him not to. Later, you had to explain to him what happened again, but he was still a little concerned for your wellbeing.

You're well aware and so is he that he probably has ADHD and social anxiety, but to be honest, you wouldn't actually doubt the idea that he could be autistic either.

You both noticed it when you were ranting about how annoying some of your habits were, whether it be an inability to properly express emotions, an inability to understand social cues, the need to mask around others, or how much certain sensations bothered you when they shouldn't because it's so stupid that they do. He'd often respond with, "Oh, I do that too!" or "Yeah, I have that sometimes." At first, you thought he related to some of the lighter symptoms shared with people in general, but then it came to a point where he related a bit too much that you had to let yourself think about whether your boyfriend just happened to have the double whammy of ADHD and autism.

Chances were likely.

One thing that surprised König when you two discussed how he could help comfort you is lying on top of you.

"But Schatz, I'm too big, I would crush you, like a weight or something."

"Oh sweetheart... that's the point."

Genuinely, he's a wonderful makeshift weighted blanket with the great addition of being your boyfriend. It's the perfect distraction for your mind to focus on something and someone else—the weight of his body weight distributed on yours, your breathing synced with his, his heartbeat against your chest, and just having someone to hold.

Loves it when you start parroting and picking up some of his phrases, especially the German ones. He'll ignore the pronunciations if they're bad, but he's just gleaming with pride when he sees you taking out an enemy and spitting German curses at them the same way he does. Practically makes goo-goo eyes on the battlefield.

Horangi

Same thing about being brought up in an environment that isn't the most informed nor supportive about neurodivergence. He's not the proudest of his younger self, and he knows he's made some mean remarks about it as a dumb kid, but he's long since moved on. Getting out into the world has taught him to grow more tolerant and understanding, but he's still ashamed of the ignorant stuff he did.

He worries that you'll hate him for it, despite it being ages ago. He's used to being reminded of his mistakes and failures, such as his gambling addiction and delinquency.

What he struggles with most is trying to find a way to comfort you or help you unwind. He's not great with words since he's worried about screwing something up, so the most he can do is pull you somewhere the two of you can be alone and give you space.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't try. He tries several things, like keeping your favorite snacks on hand, doodling on your skin with his markers to distract you, getting some music playing, earplugs on hand, and stuff that he knows he can't royally fuck up.

You propose that he creates some cute cue cards for you so that it helps him figure out your needs, and you don't miss how he tries to hide his eagerness. He presents you with the cards all connected on a metal ring, red, blue, and black doodles with words in both English and Korean, acting like he just did it on a whim when the amount of care and love put into it is obvious.

One of the cards only has a single phrase on it in Korean, and you already knew it. You still asked.

"Hong-jin, what does this say?"

"Ah- uh... 사랑해요 (saranghaeyo)."

"Mind telling me?"

"... good job?"

"Uh-huh... so why are there so many hearts?"

"Because you think I did a really good job..?"

Again, he's not great with words. That includes letting you know that he wants to be told "I love you" more.

Lightheartedly calls you a nerd once when you ramble about your hyperfixations or special interest, only for you to fire back with a comment about his K-pop collection of albums, signatures, fancams, photocards, lightsticks...

"That's not the sam- no... dammit, no."

Face the music, Horangi. Your special interest is K-pop and each new album is just another hyperfix. You're just as much of a nerd.

Hound

Autism? Okay, but the fuck does that have to do with you blasting the enemy with an RPG right now?

Honestly, he thought you just had some strange quirks and issues. Maybe you were like him. He figured he was just "broken" in some way, that they were "weaknesses" of his. The more he spent time with you, the more he questioned why he is the way he is.

Yet he doesn't judge you because he most likely knows how it feels to be in that position, and he wants to be the support he doesn't have but wishes he had.

Actually, that's the real glue of your relationship—how easily Hound adapts to your structures and needs without question. If it conflicts with theirs, they won't hesitate to directly address it and work it out with you. You return the same energy and reassure him he's not alone in feeling this way. Hell, you make him feel normal for once.

Both of you have issues verbalizing, so you'll be tracing hearts, question marks, checks, and x's on each others' palms. They even teach you Morse code to tap little phrases. You never need to worry about miscommunication if you're direct with them. They're always direct with you, and they hate when people aren't specific.

Hound's not much of a talker, but they're definitely a listener, and they could honestly listen to you talk for days. If someone dares to interrupt you or criticize you for talking too much because he "seems like he's not interested" and you're "taking up his time", he shoots them a glare to fuck off.

Most likely, your interests will become his interests, too.

You notice they mask almost constantly but act much more natural, tender, and less structured when they're around you, showing a side of themselves with a variety of emotions no one else would ever see either. More human, and less war dog.

You both like to be alone, but alone together. Hound used to ask you to leave him alone whenever he needed to self-isolate but started to let you stick around when they needed a moment. The two of you are much more physically affectionate and even more talkative, and you both value the trust you grant each other to show the more vulnerable side of yourselves. You guys are woven like thread; the moment one unravels, so does the other.

Sometimes, all it takes is a weak smile from you or his hands interlocking with yours to find the calm in the storm.

a/n 2: I'm back, teehee :3

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