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#to have someone hold you and make you feel safe
koolades-world · 3 days
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Hello there! hope your day is going good and if not I hope it gets better.
I was wondering if I could request a scenario (you can do headcanon format) Where Mc is in a life or death because a lower demon is about to kill them and Mc actually kills the lower demon with their own magic. how would the undatables react/comfort Mc after they killed someone because their life was in danger.
Thank you in advance if you do decide to write and make sure to stay hydrated!
hi there! i can do that :)
hope you're having a great day too <3 just drank water with a liquid iv in it so hopefully im super hydrated now haha. i've had a bit of a sore throat for the past few days now so i've been really chugging water better than i usually have which says a lot! love me my 30 oz water bottle that goes everywhere with me
enjoy!
Undatables react to Mc killing a lower demon while defending themself
Diavolo
he's very proud of you but quickly goes on high alert
you've never seen him more serious
he's doing all sorts of things such as upping security measures and looking into the background of the now deceased demon to ensure your safety and to make sure there wasn't anything more behind the attack
he makes sure to give you a huge hug and lets you know exactly how he feels <3
Barbatos
if you hadn't killed them, he would've finished the job for you
since there's no work there for him to do, he'll be taking a visit to see that demon's relatives in the near future
in the meantime, he'll help you unwind and try to take your mind off it
perhaps a tea party with all your favorite treats and little d's there, if you'd like :)
Simeon
he won't ask questions and he'll heal you no matter what
even if you didn't get very hurt, he insists you stay under his care for a little bit
you'll get the best bedside care and soup ever
let him dote on you, it'll make him feel better too knowing you're safe in his arms <3
Luke
he's immediately freaking out
what do you mean a lower demon tried to kill you!!!
100% in tears and refuses to let you out of death grip hug he has on you
the next day, he gifts you an amulet with an angelic blessing on it and asks you to carry it everywhere with you. doesn't care if that means the brothers can't get anywhere near you now. better for him that way anyways haha
Solomon
he's very impressed!
gah they grow up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he gave you the nickname of his apprentice
deep underneath his gushing, he's worried but he knows that you're capable
even goes as far as to give a few little tips for the future. love at it's finest haha
Mephisto
he's furious with himself that he even let you get in that situation
he almost feels as if he's failed you, but he tries to hold up a facade of nonchalantness
it won't take much coaxing to break down this barrier and see how upset he actually is
if you notice him being extra loving in the next week or so, try not to comment on it but accept his affections
Thirteen
she's with you as much as she can be, but she knows it's just impossible to be by your side all the time
she's angry at herself and the now dead lower demon because that window of time when she's away is never very large
but, she knows you are more than strong enough to take care of yourself if it wasn't already apparent before
she'll make excuse after excuse to be with you until she eventually just spills the beans. she really cares about you <33
Raphael
he's gonna check you at least three times over to make sure you're alright
but right after he almost scolds you, in a loving way
he tells you he should've been the one to do it and that he should've been by your side
he was just very nervous he could've lost you, but is so proud of how you stood up for yourself <3
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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 2 days
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Our second DCXDP au has Danny hiding in Gotham with the cores of Dani, Dan and two other clones who survived. They need DNA to be able to reform but it's in a ‘it doesn't have to be now’ kind of way. Not just Danny’s DNA but another to to balance out their genes.
They'll become babies and be raised up. Dani was melting but forced Danny to promise he wouldn't find someone right away he'd take his time to fall in love first. Dan did the same and the twin clones did to.
Danny decides it's a good idea but keeps the cores safe. He ran to Gotham in the DC universe because the GIW were to close to killing him. His parents, Jazz, Sam, Grandma Ida and the Foleys all followed. Grandma Ida is running some gang down in crime alley having a blast with Sam, constantly trying to hook Sam up with Jason who Ida is in a turf war with. Tucker is happily running a tech company that will soon outstrip it's competitors., his parents helping Jazz is terrifying in Arkham as she tears our corruption.
Maddie abd Jack found out about the Leauge of Assassins and went: study time. Danny, knowing its corrupted ecto and also not wanting to deal with assassins lets then have fun. So Ra’s is dealing with liminal mad scientists who keep stealing the Pits and also have uncovered two Damian clones they kidnapped. Their kids now.
But we’re focusing on Danny who is in college and living a peaceful life which is what he wants most of all. The cores of his kids are always on him just in case and he's casually dating. It's great. He can just be Danny the guy who is super into space and plans on being a mechanic for the watch tower.
Then one day Two-Face attacks the cafe he's at (because of a sale it was having where it was two for one on some sort of new treat). Danny has to run for his life. He gets hit and the bag he has the cores in is harmed. One falls out and he freaks, diving for it. He grabs it just as Black Bat swoops in to save him. She flies him up to a roof.
They land and then she moves to grab one of the cores that fell out. Danny gets antsy but it requires skin contact so it should be okay, she's wearing gloves after all. It'll be fine!
On her part, Cass is wondering why her hand feels tingly but there isn't anything malicious in the mans face so she thinks it might just be the orb she caught being weird. She swings off, noting that she has a hole in her glove.
Danny goes home and doesn't think about it until he realizes that the core the hero touched is growing. And it's getting sick without the touch of its other parent.
Cass on the other hand feels strange. Like she's pulled somewhere. She instantly thinks of the guy and alerts the others to him. They hunt him down to find him on a rooftop. He's surprised to see them, holding an Orb that’s glowing.
“I thought it would take longer…” the man says. He shakes his head. “Umm… rip the band-aids off- I'm nottotslly human.”
The Batfam kinda pauses cause he's giving this info up for free. Cass is eyeing him closely. It's just her, Batman and Robin in front of the man. Everyone else is listening in or in the shadows.
“I ran away from my home dimension cause they were hunting me down to kill me because they believed I was non-sentient. You know sad trench- I mean, John Constantine? I think he put in the word we’re friendly,” the man babbles. The orb shines. “Okay, okay. I need to… Black Bat did your glove have a hole in it when you touched this?”
Cass hums but nods. Barbara has Constantine on the line (and no one wants to know the blckmail she has to make him answer) and he's confirming it's a friendly.
“Okay, okay… this is a Core and it's the heart, soul, brain, everything of an ecto-entity like me. And it… it’s my child. But it needed a second set of DNA. It's fine dormant, it doesn't hurt the baby. But it…” the man swallows. “Skin touch.”
Cass knows in a second what he's leading up to. She touched the orb. It needed DNA.
That's her baby in his hands.
Que the chaos.
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blarshwritezz · 2 days
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Yandere psychopath boyfriend x male reader. You discover that your boyfriend killed people and try to leave the forest where he lived, but you end up being caught by him. He decides to punish you through the bed with rough sex and overstimulation
I fw this
Yandere Psychopath bf x Reader
M yan x M reader
TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, murder, noncon
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Your boyfriend has always been...strange, but you never expected this. You thought he just liked nature, and that was why he lived in a cabin in the woods. You thought he liked the peace, like you did. That he just enjoyed growing his garden and living practically entirely off the grid. The seclusion...that was a better way to put it.
You couldn't look at him the same since you saw it. Since you saw him killing someone in cold blood. He had the nerve to act so lovingly to you when he did something like that.
You couldn't get it out of your mind. The way that poor man's blood covered him, the pool of red standing the grass and seeping into the dirt. The way he chopped up his victim and stuffed the bits into a bag. The bag he used for his fertilizer.
You clearly weren't safe. You had to leave.
One night, while he was asleep, you snuck out and ran. You ran like your life depended on it. Because it did.
You didn't make it far. A trap. He had traps set up all over the place. A large net caught you, forcing you off the ground. You struggled to get out, but your adrenaline eventually wore off.
You didn't know how long it was until he came along, holding a bloody knife. "Aw, darling, were you trying to get out? I guess that means you know my nasty little secret, huh?"
He cut you out of the net, not giving you a second to even try running before he grabbed you by the scalp and dragged you back, kicking and screaming. "You should know you aren't allowed to run. I'm gonna have to punish you now."
Getting back to the cabin, he forced you upstairs and threw you on the bed. Before you could scramble to get away, he once again grabbed your scalp and forced you to kiss him, shoving his tongue down your throat.
His free hand, still holding the knife he had, cut your clothes off. He finally discarded the knife and started to roughly jerk you off.
He only broke the kiss when you were practically suffocating. "You think you can run away from me, huh? Think you can just leave?" He roughly bit into your shoulder, licking up the blood he drew. "No, I don't think so. You're mine. All fucking mine."
Letting go of your head, he shoved two of his fingers down your throat. "Suck."
When he was satisfied, or tired of it, he yanked out his fingers, only to suddenly shove them deep inside your hole. He stretched you wide, getting your insides nice and wet before suddenly replacing his fingers with his cock.
He didn't waste a second to start pounding into you like a wild beast. He bit you more, leaving bleeding marks all across your shoulders, neck, collarbone, and chest.
"Thought you could get away with trying to leave me, huh?" A harsh smack echoed through the room as he spanked you. "Think you're too good for me or something?" And another. "You're mine." Another. "And I'm going to fuck it into you until you can't even walk out of this room."
He continued to thrust into you, hitting against that special spot harder and harder. He didn't stop, not for a second.
Even when you came, the first time of many that night, he only got rougher.
He didn't give a second of rest, and he wasn't going to. Not until he made you a moaning, sobbing, drooling mess begging for his forgiveness. Then he'd go back to the loving and gentle boyfriend you knew. But only once he was sure you understood not to leave him.
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I feel like the end was a bit rushed tbh
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How would the Bad sanses feel about kids?
Horror isn't a fan of how children have a habit of immediately bursting into terrified tears when they look at him. Kinda rude. He copes by deliberately scaring them; if a kid looks at him he pulls his scariest face. Might even say "boo" just for effect. Deep down, though, he does like kids - before it all went wrong in the Underground he used to dream about being an uncle to Papyrus' future children. When he's around you, he catches himself thinking about it... his own kids would like his face just the way it was, wouldn't they? So long as he was a good dad, it wouldn't matter what he looked like. That sounds so wonderful.
If he somehow finds a kid who isn't frightened of him, he will go full papa bear mode. Horror's the most likely of the bad guys to find a lost child and scoop them up.
Dust... avoids children like the plague. He shares Horror's habit of deliberately scaring them. He has a lot of reasons. He's a dangerous mass murderer, that's one; he also doesn't do great with noise. The sound of a crying or shouting child grates at him like nails on a chalkboard. Not to mention the fact that he's had enough of dealing with childish behaviour after a few hours around Killer.
... He also doesn't like being reminded of all the kids that used to live in his Underground. He doesn't like looking at little faces and remembering how Papyrus used to smile at him, the big brother who was supposed to keep him safe, the exact same way. The thing about having high LV is you get very used to being numb... those stabs of emotion, when they do get through, are too much.
He likes seeing you interact with kids, though. You're much better than he is, softer and kinder. Makes him think about what could've been.
Killer is great with kids. He's exciting, he's funny, he's got endless energy. He perfectly channels the 'fun uncle who clearly wants kids and would be an amazing dad', and the presence of children grounds him, taking the edge off of his worse traits and continuously pulling him down to reality. But he's also a terrible influence when left unattended. Give him an hour, and he'll be showing them how to properly hold a knife, telling them how crime isn't really that bad, and that they should totally just bite their bully as hard as they possibly can.
If a child lets him pick them up, Killer will constantly be trying to catch your eye. His huge grin speaks volumes; so when are WE gonna make our own one of these?
Nightmare says he doesn't like children. He definitely acts like it, too, he's cold and intimidating. But deep down, he's always wanted kids of his own - and he's bitter, because before he was corrupted he used to be really good with kids. Dream was (and still is) better at entertaining children but Nightmare could comfort the introverts; shy kids who cried around Dream would happily fall asleep on Nightmare's shoulder. Not anymore.
The thing is... when kids are around him for a while, you'll start to see hints of something underneath the grump. You'll notice he never raises his voice. You'll hear how his tone slips into something stern, yet calm. You'll see the 'strict but fair' edge to his sockets and mouth, you'll notice how despite all the talk of not caring his tentacles will ALWAYS catch anyone whose tiny feet are unsteady. There's a dad under there.
He's in no place for kids right now. But he does think about it - when you're around he thinks far more than he'd ever admit. He imagines giving someone the childhood he never had. If only.
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darkbluekies · 2 days
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King Edmund and Hedwig drabbles: running away but changing your mind and getting lost
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Yandere!king & female!yandere x reader (female in Edmund’s case and gn in hedwigs)
I had a request similar to this like a year ago, but i deleted it because I couldn't come up with anything ... and now I have so ... that's annoying.
And this is probably the nicest Edmund has ever been. Weird.
BUT HEY I LOVE THE RELATIVES
Warnings: weapons, but actually pretty fluffy
King Edmund:
You had taken a horse and gone away into the forest. But here you are, sitting by a tree with the horse tied to a branch, hugging yourself and crying. What had you done? You finally realize how stupid you are. Why did you leave him? Why?
You're cold and lonely. Thieves are roaming the forest and you know that they would be delighted to find the queen all by herself. But you don't know the way home, and if you get up on your horse you risk going even further away. Staying in one place will be the best decision if you want to be found ... hopefully by the right people.
Suddenly, after what feels like (and probably have been) hours, you notice a sound.
"Y/N, your game is up."
Edmund!
You stand up and turn around, seeing him and his knights around you, their horses looking at you dumbly. The knights hold out their bayonets, but you don't care. You run over to Edmund, throwing yourself in his arms and crying ― crying in sorryness, in relief over being found by the right people, crying in fear and shame. Edmund's taken by surprise at first. He had been fully prepared to threaten you to get you to come back. Edmund's arms lock around you, securing your head into his shoulder.
"Lower your fucking weapons!" he tells the knights angrily. "Are you insane pointing them at us like that?!"
He turns to you, but before he has the chance to ask you how you're feeling of why you were so stupid to escape from him, you've already started rambling.
"I'm sorry, Edmund!" you sob. "I'm so sorry! I don't know why I did that! I regretted it immediatly, I promise! I wanted to go back but I-I lost my way and-" You can't finish your sentence, your breathe hitching with sobs.
"Shh, it's okay", he cooes, kissing your forehead. "You're back where you belong now, you're safe."
"I wanted to go back, I promise ... but I didn't know which way was the right one. I'm so sorry!"
You cry against his shoulder, hugging him tightly. Weirdly enough, you have never been happier to see someone that has hurt you. Edmund's your husband, you have accepted that. You hadn't realized that you had started to like him before now.
"It's okay, my dear", Edmund reassures you in a sweet, hushed tone and rests his head on top of yours, enjoying having you in his arms again. He rocks you back and forth gently, as if to coo you. "There's no need to cry, I'm here now. You will never have to worry when I'm here. You know that I will take care of everything."
His words are so comforting, so belieavable. You nod against his shoulder.
"Let's go home", he says. "You're cold."
He lifts you up on his white horse before cimbing up himself in front of you. You wrap your arms around his waist and hide your face into his warm back, crying even more. Why isn't he mad at you? You betrayed him. Edmund can't bring himself to be mad. You're genuinly sorry, he can't be mad at you for making a mistake ... a ridicolously stupid mistake, perhaps, but a mistake nonetheless. He needs to comfort you, not punish you.
"Make sure Y/N's horse comes with us", he says before riding off with you behind him.
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Hedwig:
If you desperately had to fight with Hedwig about how controlling she is and storm off ... why did it have to be in a foreign country? You want to punch yourself for your idioticy. She's suffocating, yes, but you do love her ... somehow you still love her. And you want nothing more than to go back to her and have her hold you. How will you find her when you can't ask for directions back to her vacation house and can't trace your steps back. Why do European countries have to have such narrow, maze-like alleyways?!
You've found yourself on a bench in front of a cafe in the staking sun. You'll have to get up and look for the right way later, but your feet are probably bleeding.
"Y/N?!" you hear Hedwig's voice suddenly shriek. "Oh, my Gosh, Y/N!"
She runs over to the bench and you hurry to wrap your arms around her waist, hiding your face into her stomach. You can't help but sniffle in relief and sorry ... remembering how you left the house.
"I've been looking all over for you!" Hedwig pants. "I was so worried!"
"I'm sorry, Hedwig", you cry into her stomach. "For everything. I-"
She hugs your head closer and kisses the top of your head. "It's okay, I have forgiven you! "
She sits down on the bench next to you and cup your head into her hands. You sob.
"I'm just so happy to see you alive", she says in relief and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face. "But, dear, you're dehydrated! You'll pass out!"
She takes out a bottle of water from her handbag and feeds you half of it, before water starts to run down your chin.
"Why haven't you been drinking water?" she asks worriedly. "You could have passed out and who knows how dangerous that could have been?!"
"i didn't have any money", you say quietly. "I'm so sorry, I tried to find my way back, because I regret that I left ... but I couldn't ask for directions. I can't speak the language and I didn't have my phone and-"
"It's okay. I forgive you. But please don't do it again. It's dangerous. And I was so worried. My father was close to calling the cops and having them look for you."
"I'm sorry, Hedwig."
She hugs you, letting you rest your heavy head on her shoulder.
"It's okay", she reassures you. "I'm not mad at you. You know that I only want your best, right?"
You nod.
"You need to cool down", she says and stands up, holding out her hand to you. "Let's go get you some ice cream."
"My feet hurt really bad", you mumble.
"I will buy you new shoes too, and bandage and everything you need. Will you come with me? Please?"
You sigh and take her hand. Hedwig is the most confusing person you know, because how can she be so horrible, yet so magical?
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the girl next door 8
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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Your head is throbbing. The hangover of your night of crying greets you like a drumbeat. You cradle your skull and shudder, roused only by a clink from the kitchen. You grumble and sit up, blearily checking the clock beside your bed. The digital numbers stamp your vision. It’s too early for your mom to be up. You can’t even remember the last time she was awake before you. 
You know she won’t be happy about having to make her own coffee. You get up, clumsy steps carrying you to the door as you rub your temples. You go out into the hall, your tee shirt caught in the top of your striped linen sleep shorts.  
You squeak as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. It’s not your mom. You’re so surprised, you can’t move. You drop your hands, hugging yourself as you stare at Steve’s back, his broad shoulders stretching the leopard print of your mother’s robe. The insinuation of the piece of clothing, makes you choke. 
He glances over his shoulder before you can flee. His gray hair is slightly mussed and you can see his boxers poking out past the short hem of the robe. You sway on your feet. 
“Good morning, sweetie. Want some coffee?” He asks, sleep dragging in his voice, “pot just finished brewing.” 
“Oh, um... I’ll make my own.” 
“More than enough,” he insists as he takes out another mug from the cupboard. His familiarity with the place makes you squirm. 
“Erm,” you bite your lip. 
“Here,” he turns to you with a mug. “You like sugar? Milk?” 
“Black,” you answer as he nears. 
You accept the cup as he holds it out. His lack of shame makes you even more uncomfortable. You are an adult. It isn’t that absurd that your mom would have... needs. It’s just not something you know much about. Nor had you ever really thought about her finding someone like this. She only ever griped about your father and every other man she knew. 
“Wow, I would’ve thought you had a sweet tooth,” he remarks. 
You shake your head, “thanks.” 
You turn to escape with the comfort of the coffee. He hums as if disappointed but you let the sound fade behind you. You close your bedroom door and quickly cross the room, as if to get as far from him as possible. 
You just weren’t prepared. You’re still reeling from the night before and your bout of tears. Ugh. You’re just stupid. You get so swept up in stupid emotions and then you mope around. You sip the coffee and set the cup down. 
You look down at your bare legs and cross them, pulling subconsciously on your tee shirt. Oh gosh. You’d been walking around in front of him like this. 
You grab the cup again. You focus on finishing it, on letting the temperature sooth you. You hear your mother’s voice but it’s distant and indiscernible. When you empty the mug, you go to your bed and sprawl out. You’ll probably just stay in here all day; out of the way, alone. Not much you can do with a headache. 
You close your eyes and drift into a shallow half-sleep. You can feel the day brighten outside the window and hear the chirping birds but your room is shrouded in fog. A knock breaks through your stupour. You groan and roll onto your side. 
The door opens and you lift your head to look at your mom. 
“You’re not staying in your bed all day,” she stomps into the room, “get up. Go for a walk or something.” 
“A walk?” You sit up, head wobbly. 
“I don’t care where but you need to get out of this house,” she snarls, her lip quivering. You won’t ask if she’s used her inhaler, she’s already worked up, “get out of my way.” 
You blink and nod. You stand up and go to your dresser. She huffs, “and don’t make a whole thing when you leave. Just go.” 
You pull out a pair of thin pants as she slams the door behind her. You frown and change, quickly making yourself tolerably presentable. You don’t know that even if your clothes were nicer or your face prettier, that you would ever feel acceptable. 
You take a book and go into the hallway as quietly as you can. The smell of maple makes your stomach growl. You glance down toward the kitchen and stay close to the wall. You creep down to the entryway and slip your feet into your shoes. 
“Hey, off to somewhere?” Steve startles you as he peeks out of the kitchen, a spatula in hand. 
“Um,” you look back and forth. 
“She’s just going for her morning walk,” your mother chirps as she appears from behind him, “aren’t you, honey?” 
You nod stiffly. Morning walk? You can’t remember the last time you walked past the end of the avenue. 
“Oh, I wish I’d known. I’d love to come with. Maybe explore the neighbourhood,” Steve says, “what about breakfast? You wanna eat first?” 
You look at your mom. She grimaces. You shake your head. 
“Not hungry. Thanks.” 
“Hm, alright,” he frowns, disappointed, “I’ll put some aside for you. Maybe another day.” 
He goes back into the kitchen and your mom mouth’s one word, ‘go’. 
You do as she says and you leave. You clutch your book tightly as you come down the front steps and try to figure out what to do. There’s a bench near the park you can sit on and read. A chapter will take a while and you should try to spend more time outside. 
Your eyes narrow against the sunshine. Your head still hurts and your now your stomach is clenching violently. Just the smell of food had you ravenous. Well, there’s be cold pancakes waiting for your return at least. 
You find the bench. It’s not where you remembered. It wasn’t by the entrance but further inside. Still, it’s early and there’s no one there. 
You sit and watch the birds for a while before you open the book. A few squirrels skitter by, chasing each other’s tails, and you smile. You like being outside. You just don’t enjoy the people outside. 
You put your head down and start the chapter. You can’t really remember what happened in the last one. It’s been a while since you were able to focus enough to read a book cover to cover. 
As the morning light shifts, a woman and two children appear at the park entrance. The follow the path to the play place and you watch from afar. Soon, several other kids arrive to join the fun. Their parents stand around the parameter in pairs and clusters, chatting as they watch the younger crowd. You should find somewhere else. 
You stand and notice someone walking toward you. You watch Marge as she approaches, and another woman, you think her name is Callie. You smile at them nervously. Are they mad? You don’t have kids, why are you sitting there? 
“Good morning,” Marge chimes in a sing song voice, “you’re up bright and early.” 
“Morning,” you murmur and peer between the blondes. 
“And how’s your mother?” Callie asks with an edge. 
“Okay,” you swallow dryly, hugging the book to your chest. 
“Mm, great, that’s great. Your lawn looks much better,” Marge praises. 
You nod and slant your mouth. 
“You’re so lucky to have such a helpful new neighbour,” Marge smirks, “he seems so nice.” 
You just stare back at her. You don’t know what she wants you to say. Sorry? Should you have done it yourself? You were going to but the mower broke. 
“What’s his name?” Callie asks. 
You frown. 
“You can tell us,” Marge steps closer, “really? We’re just curious. We want to welcome him to the neighbourhood. I made him lasagna and I wanna know what to call him when I show up.” 
You feel your chest locking up. They remind you of the girls in highschool who would take your lunch tray. You chew your lip until it’s raw. 
“We know he’s been talking to your mother. And you. It’s a small neighbourhood, hon,” Callie chirps, “just tell us his name.” 
You push your shoulders up and sidestep away from them. The bench presses to your knees as you retreat. They turn on you, following with hands on their hips. 
“Don’t run away, hon. We’re neighbours--” 
“I don’t know,” you say. “I gotta go home.” 
Marge sighs and Callie blows a raspberry, “boo,” the former says, “fine, run home to mommy.” 
You turn away and barely keep from doing just that. You don’t know why they care but you wouldn’t guess anything good. They have wanted you and your mom out of the suburb for as long as you’ve been through. Maybe they think Steve would be a perfect ally in their crusade. 
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dunmeshistash · 10 hours
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How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!
Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since, with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post
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This is the first time she shows up in the manga (ch55) Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them into custody because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would probably be an legal issue, and the fact Milsiril lives away from other Elves. It does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)
The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback
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She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's small injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, hand feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the first time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"
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It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay there, where it's safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help
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Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril seems to flip a switch into battle mode, when she decides to train him for real.
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I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. She says "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon. If he couldn't take the training with her there was no way he would be able to take on the dungeon, but he could, so much so that he managed to make her let him go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.
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The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it."
And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back, perhaps cause he hated it there, I think it's rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to be able to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroring exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admitting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.
After that visuals of Milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.
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Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon
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She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life. This could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was also a merciful act, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.
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Now for extras... About Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible
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Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she holds a grudge against people like Mithrun that seem to have succeeded where she failed. But realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act with mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her
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Her decription also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.
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There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya, and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she wants to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.
My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles often send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less than her sisters for sending her to join the canaries).
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No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she feels superior to them when there's no indication that this is the case.
And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from that tragedy, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...
This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...
I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.
Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.
Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.
I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.
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afroditisworld · 21 hours
Text
Salvatore
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Spencer Reid x female!Reader
minors dni
Warnings : smut without a plot :)) praise kink and hands kink, oral (female received), switch Spencer, use of pet named (good girl, love, baby, brat, sweet) if you are not into that please do not read.
word count : 3k
Dating Spencer was never a plan. But here you were, falling for him more and more each day. He was not someone you expected to fall in love with; you didn't usually go for guys like him. But he had something that made you feel safe and understood at the same time. He was different from anyone you had ever dated before, which made him so special to you. You were younger than him, and you sometimes worried that you weren't what he needed in his life. But Spencer was always there to remind you that you were his safe person.
You didn't have always much time to spend together because of his work and your studies, but whenever that happened, it felt like time stood still and you were the only two people in the world. You went out for coffee or a date in a library, trying to find books for each other, and when you just wanted to relax, you would just lay on the sofa and read books.
Tonight was like this, with you two being too tired to go out but wanting to spend time together. He was at his desk, studying something for his new case. He had promised you that it wouldn't take long, but half an hour became one and then two, and you started getting bored. You didn't want to bother him, but your boyfriend was looking so damn good doing what he was good at, and you couldn't stop staring at him. His focused expression and the way his brow furrowed in concentration were oddly attractive to you. You wish he was more focused on you; however, you were afraid to ask for his attention.
You couldn't quit thinking about how beautiful his hands were. You loved how his fingers moved with precision and grace, making you feel an odd mixture of admiration and desire. The longer you watched him, the more you imagined him touching you. You couldn't stop thinking about his hands running down your body till they landed on the band of your pyjama shorts. Spencer knew it he wasn't naive. He noticed how you would stare at his hands and bite your lips. He saw how your gaze remained fixed on them while he was reading, or how you would simply stare at them when you assumed he wasn't paying attention.
"Spence, I... I just," You couldn't admit your desire for his hands; you were only hoping he wouldn't see through your frozen expression.
"Are you feeling okay?" He asked. He sounded so calm, as if he hadn't caught you staring at his hands, and wishing he was doing something other than work.
"Yeah…why wouldn't I be?" You replied and gave him a forced and awkward smile, hoping he wouldn't ask anything more. The tension between you two was clear, but you attempted to hide it.
"Well, first of all, your face is kind of red, you were zooming out, and you were also staring at my hands." He spoke without breaking eye contact.
"I-I'm not staring," you responded quickly, attempting to explain yourself, but your stutter made you seem more guilty.
You could stop thinking how long have you been staring at his hands? What if he thought it was weird? What if you make him uncomfortable?
You hadn't dated Spencer for a while, and he didn't know all of your likes, so you were afraid to tell him.
When you finally mumbled, "I-I just... um, I really like your hands," you could feel the heat rising on your face. Spencer's face softened, a tiny smile spreading across his lips. "Well, in that case, I'll have to make sure to use them to hold yours more often," he said making you blush even more.
"Are you done with your work?" you asked eagerly, hoping to attract his attention.
With an innocent smile, Spencer shook his head and chuckled. "I have a few more things to finish up before I'm done," he said, noticing your disappointed look. "But I can come there and sit with you while I work if you'd like." You blushed again and nodded quickly, letting him know how much you wanted to touch you.
Your heart skipped a beat at Spencer's offer. You could feel his warmth and comfort spreading over you as he placed himself next to you. You looked at him, and you asked softly, "Can I lay with my head on your thigh?"
He nodded, and as your head rested on his leg, one of his hands played with your hair. You looked up to him with doe eyes and made yourself comfortable. Spencer's gentle touch and the way he stroked his fingers through your hair left you feeling desperate. Spencer's hand discovered your sweet place, and you let out a sweet groan. His touch caused shivers down your spine. You knew he was teasing you, so you placed your hand on his thigh and massaged small circles.
Your hands moved higher, attempting to reach the spot you desired the most. Spencer's breath caught as your hand came closer to where you wanted it, but it didn't get far. He grasped your wrist, and you glanced up at him innocently.
"Don't tease me, Y/N." You could see the desire in his eyes, which just increased yours. With a devilish smirk, you asked, "Who said I was teasing?" You felt like your entire body was on fire. You wanted him to touch, feel, and kiss you. He was so close and yet so far away; you weren't sure what got into you, whether it was his hands and how they made you feel or the way he played with your hair.
He looked down at you, smirking, and said, "Don't you want to be my good girl, Y/N?" His voice was deep but lovely, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat, and you nodded before even trying to process what he said.
"So don't tease me, love, and let me finish my job," he replied, releasing your wrist. But you weren't expecting this response, so you got up from his thighs . As you struggled to process his words, you felt a rush of eagerness and nervousness wash over you. You couldn't resist the anticipation of his domination, but you didn't want to wait.
"I don't want to wait," you said as you tilted your head. His eyes darkened, and he raised his eyebrows. "Impatient, are we?" he replied with a smirk, his hand trailing up your arm, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder. "I like that in you," he added before pulling you up to his lap. He left the file on the small table that was beside the sofa, and then his hands touched your waist.
He cupped the side of your face with one of his hands. "My girl's so needy that she can't even wait five more minutes," he said, and you bit your lips. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into his hand. "I can't help it when you're around," you whispered, feeling his grip tighten slightly in response. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, and you melted into the kiss, feeling a rush of warmth run through your body. His touch was intoxicating, and you knew you'd never want to be anywhere else than in his arms. Your hands slid up his thighs to the button on his jeans as soon as he pulled back. He sighed and dropped his head back as you unbuttoned his jeans. You were so eager that you almost didn't recognise yourself.
Before you could even remove his trousers, he stopped you with his hand on your wrist.
"Not so fast," he whispered, kissing you again. Spencer changed your position within a minute.
Now you were sitting on the sofa with your legs open and Spence on his knees between them. His hands moved gently over your body, making you feel warm with excitement. His intense gaze at you caused your heart to rush even quicker.
He was now staring up at you with an eager grin. Spencer's hands moved from your waist to your thighs before touching your pyjama shorts. With your help, he carefully slipped them down, exposing more of your skin to his desperate gaze. The air between you cracked with longing; you couldn't wait any longer; you needed him to touch and feel you. He was so close, you could feel his breath on your sensitive core. He hadn't even touched you down there, but you knew you were wet; you could feel the frustration running through your body.
"Please, Spencer," you asked. You had no idea what you were begging for, but you were willing to accept whatever he offered you. He wet his lips and used his hands to remove your panties. You stared down at him and realised that even though he was on his knees, he had complete control, which he proved as soon as his hands reached your clit.
Spencer teased you more, wanting to hear the sounds you made as a reaction to the pleasure he gave you. You bit your lips and pushed your hips towards him, aching to feel more.
"Patient," he replied without breaking his sight from you. He looked at you with lust and need, but he refused to touch you unless you begged him to. You knew Spencer would always make the wait worthwhile.
“Please, Spencer just- do anything, please I need- Ah.” you didn't have the time to complete your sentence and Spencer's mouth was now on your clit. He always knew how to please you, especially when he would eat you out. He was a man with an eidetic memory after all, of course he knew your body better than you.
“You’re such a t-tease Spence” you whined. He looked up at you with his gorgeous eyes and a smirk and before you knew it his fingers were inside of you. You were so wet already that his fingers could easily slip inside you. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, he couldn’t and the truth was that he didn’t want to. It was one of his favourite things to do, watching you fall apart just because of his fingers and mouth.
“P-please” you managed to say again.
“Begging is a good look for you, darling but I’m sure you don’t know what you are begging for, do you ?” he said with a grin.
“Don’t stop Spencer” you cried out.
Spencer was eating you out like a man starved. The fingering and eating duo was phenomenal and he knew that. He was practically making out with your clit.
When he pulled his fingers out you cried out feeling so empty, but immediately Spencer spread your pussy lips with his fingers as he pressed his tongue inside of you. Your back arched and a sinful moan left your lips. Your legs started shaking and you could feel yourself getting closer as you tried to close your thighs together. Spencer understood that and with his hand placed one of your legs on his shoulder.
“You want to come Y/N? ” he asked hot breath hitting your core and sending shivers through your spine.
“God-yes” you moaned and as Spencer’s lips touched you again, you felt your clit pulsing and twitching in his mouth and with his fingers once again inside you.
“Then cum to my fingers Y/N” Spencer whispered as your pussy squeezed rhythmically around his fingers finding your climax. You closed your eyes and your head fell back as you tried to catch your breath.
Spencer started leaving wet kisses on your thighs and when you finally opened your eyes and looked at him he said “I want you to ride me. Can you do that pretty girl?” he asked. You just nodded eager to please him.
When he placed himself next to you he helped you climb on him.
Spencer’s hands moved tightly around your waist, when he tried to place you on his thighs, sending goosebumps to your whole body. Your hand fell to the zipper of his jeans unzipping it as fast as you could. You could finally see how hard he was. You looked at him biting your lips so innocently, his eyes never looked away watching every move you made.
“Eating me out really does make you hard,” you whispered in his ear and smirked. His eyes darkened as he pulled you by your hair lightly to make you look at him.
“You’re in no position to tease baby, remember that.” He grunted softly “You were the one who was begging asking to be touched.” you blushed and tried to look away. “So if you want to cum I suggest to stop being a brat.”
Spencer always was talkative during sex but now he was being mean and bold.
“S-sorry” you managed to say.
With Spencer’s help, you remove his jeans and boxer his hard dick was licking with pre-cum as it hit his flat stomach.
You decided to tease him some more jerking his length with your palm as you go for a kiss, moans dying in your mouth.
“Just- Just ride me already” Spencer groaned you grinned at him before you opened your mouth and said, “And I thought I was the needy one”. His hands were now gripping your thighs trying to guide you on top of him and without any warning he slipped inside you. You were already wet because of your previous orgasm but Spencer was big and you could still feel the way he was stretching you out.
“Always so tight,” he breathed out. Spencer didn’t move he didn’t know just how badly you ached for him, so he waited to adjust to him. Your hands were resting on his chest, you were trying your best not to fall apart and collapse on him. As you sank down on him he knew he should help you but he loved watching you struggle. So you decided to take matters into your own hands, as you started straddling him. You opened slightly your mouth and a small cry left your lips. Your head fell back and you started moving. With every rise of your hips and bounce of your ass against him you were taking him deeper.
“P-please” Words were coiled at your throat, coming out as broken sobs, wishing for more but you were starting to get tired of doing all the work.
“If you want something, you have to use your words, babe” Spencer hissed. You tried to move faster but your legs were giving up on you. Spencer could feel the way your warm walls throbbed around him, but he also noticed how your pace slowed down.
“Can’t you handle it, baby?” He whispered in your ear leaving a wet kiss there.
“I can-fuck, I can handle it.” You were I mess, your lips were trembling and Spencer couldn't take his eyes off of you. Thrusting yourself up and down along his cock was causing your boobs to bounce in front of him begging him for his attention. And the next thing you know is that his mouth scatters wet kisses all over your boobs.
��Go faster,” he said plainly with a bit of a whine.
“I can't, too m-much Spence” you whined as you kept riding him.
“Oh you want my h-help” he managed to breathe out. You couldn't say anything your mind was far gone for a while now and the only thing that you could do was nod your head.
“Use your words, baby, you are a smart girl, Right” he teased you. He always knew what to say to make your walls throb around him.
“Pl-please help me” you stuttered.
“Help you with what baby, come on,” he said as he let his hands fall on your ass.
“Cum” you whined. You didn't have to ask him twice as he started helping you with your movement. Your hips were now slamming up too recklessly giving you exactly what you asked for.
“Faster—ah shit—“ you were a hot mess, but believe me Spencer loved the view.
“I'm sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making” he grinned at you teasingly. His fingers sank into the smooth fat, forcing your movements to speed up, and you're mewing, pleading with him to give you more, more, more.
Spencer was hitting that one spot and your eyesight was beginning to blur. He moaned loudly and bucked his hips up into you.
“Feels so good S-Spencer” you cried out. You started getting louder with watery eyes as you got closer to your orgasm, that was the signature of him to go faster. You could feel him pulsing inside you since he was getting closer as well. He placed his hand on your throat making you come closer to kiss you. Your eyes fell on his hands his veins were popping out and you couldn't take your eyes off of them.
“S-so pretty” you mewed before he kissed you. But you were struggling to kiss him back as he was fucking you so good.
“I-fuck S-Spence I’m g-gonna cum” you said.
“C-cum for me sweet” he stuttered softly while he was getting closer with every movement.
“So good…you’re doing so good, such a good girl for me,” he praised, suddenly overwhelmed by the pleasure your pussy had given him.
His praises practically take you over the edge, forcing you to lean forward and put your arms on his shoulders to hold yourself from falling on him while continuing to ride out your orgasm.
“Y/N” Spencer moaned “I’m cumming, don’t stop, please. Don’t stop” You always loved how he would beg as he was getting closer.
“Beg,” you said as you pulled his hair feeling more in control now as you keep riding him.
“Don’t…nghh- don’t be a brat” he groaned as he came inside you filling you up with his cums.
Spencer needed some time to catch his breath and calm down from his climax before he tried to help you stand up. But you shocked your head.
“I want to be close to you, please” you begged.
“You know actually the chances of-mphh” he started saying but you cut him off by kissing him.
“You know I don’t mind,” you said as you tried to stoop up “But if it makes you uncomfortable I can always go clean up” you continued but before you could even get off of him he pushed back at him.
“N-no stay” he murmured. You nodded at him with a little smile and rested your head on his shoulder as he started talking about a new poem that he read.
Spencer maybe made you wait but he always fucked you like a gentleman.
dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily
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marlynnofmany · 2 days
Text
Not Special, Part Two
(Part One is here)
Oscar Tennyson grabbed his purchases and hurried after the rest of his crew. As usual, they were walking quickly on their longer legs and bellowing for him to keep up. The teeth-and-scales Mighty had no patience for human weaknesses. Of which there were many.
But, as Oscar had just learned, there were some strengths as well. And he couldn’t wait to show them.
He scampered onboard before the door shut, wondering if they would actually leave without him if he dawdled too long. Probably not — who would handle their finances and hunting permits? They’d have to hire someone else, because they certainly didn’t want to do it themselves. But he didn’t want to test that.
He had much better things to test. While the stark metal walls vibrated with the engine’s revs, Oscar wove between scaled biceps and tails to his own quarters. He pressed the panel by the door, which was oversized and cracked like all of them on this ship. The Mighty were not fans of fiddly little buttons or keys. Not when they could have panels big enough to punch, which only broke sometimes.
When Oscar stepped through and closed the door behind him, he felt immediately relieved. This was his private space to decorate as he chose, without worrying that someone would take things down or make fun of him. Ship rules were clear about personal quarters. Oscar’s fake orchids and real cactus made the room homey, along with more posters than the walls could hold. They spilled onto the ceiling, lining it with nature scenes from Earth, sports figures he admired, media announcements, and a good number of fluffy kittens. This was the one spot on the ship where he could feel comfortable, and he was making the most of it.
The bag of refueling station supplies crinkled as he set it on his small table to remove the contents. A high-end store might have had Waterwill bags that evaporated after a day, but this place used regular old plastic. Inside were food cubes, bottled water, and the purchase he was most excited about: six cans of very weak caffeine.
He scanned the label. It was just like the other human had said. Tall cans in dramatic colors, but not much of substance inside. At least, not as far as the average human was concerned.
Oscar couldn’t wait until dinner time.
Before then, he had a permit to submit and several other things to check. The ship should be on the way to Argosha, which was notorious for welcoming outsiders in to hunt the Dagger Birds that were giving everyone so much trouble, but he had better get their paperwork in order anyway.
He grabbed his tablet and left his safe haven, heading back into the public parts of the ship where he could face taunts from any direction. Really, these guys were just like his cousins. At least it was familiar.
Fending off tiresome conversation — “How’s the weather down there?” “Why don’t you ask your mother?” —he reached the bridge and found a corner to stand in. The captain and the pilot were arguing about where to land when they reached Argosha.
“The main site will have more people to admire our ship!”
“The new one is closer to the hunting grounds!”
“Dagger Birds are overrunning the place; everywhere is a hunting ground!”
“Do you want to pay the damages for shooting a building instead of a bird? We can take it all out of your pay, if you want!”
“Fine, but if we land on some overgrown hedge and the ship is scratched, you get to pay for that!”
“Fine!”
The pair of them stopped yelling and sat back in their seats as if nothing at all was the matter, because it wasn’t. Polite disagreements were always held at that volume.
In the brief lull while the pilot manipulated the controls with more force than a lesser console could withstand, Oscar spoke up. “I’d like to come too.”
Both dinosaurian heads turned to stare at him in surprise. “Why?” the captain demanded. “One kick from a bird, and you’re useless to us.”
“Thanks,” Oscar said flatly. “I’ll keep out of the way. I want to take photos of your fighting prowess; I should be able to sell them.”
Both of the Mighty preened at that, as he’d known they would. Ego was big here. The captain agreed, and Oscar didn’t let slip any hints of his secret plan. He just finished working on his tablet, then retreated to his quarters to practice Dagger Bird mating calls.
The air on Argosha was breathable but hot, at least this part of it. Oscar was ready with his Tool in his pocket. (He’d gotten out of the habit of calling it a phone, since the Mighty were right in that it did a near-infinite number of things.) (He still smirked quietly at the potential innuendo, but it was a conversation he didn’t really want to have with giant dinosaur aliens, so he kept that to himself.)
“This way,” announced the captain, pointing in what looked like an arbitrary direction into the wilderness. Whooping with the alien equivalent of testosterone, the crew raised their blasters and tromped off the landing pad with Oscar following close behind.
True to his word, he did take some pictures as he went. But he was waiting for his moment.
It didn’t take long to come. The shouting scared off all the wildlife, then the Mighty found a boulder to crouch behind and wait for the creatures to come back. They played a silent counting game to see who was best at guessing when they’d spot something worth killing.
Distant footsteps on leaves made them smack each other in excitement, but nothing appeared between the trees.
Now or never, Oscar thought. Knowing better than to startled his crewmates, he whispered, “Here, let me.” Then he took a deep breath and let loose with his best imitation of a Dagger Bird seeking a mate. “Woarrrrrrk!”
While the Mighty shushed him and wondered what he was doing and started to figure it out, an answering woarrk sounded from nearby.
Then another, then, three.
Oscar wondered if he’d overplayed his hand.
No less than five large and eager Dagger Birds crashed through the undergrowth at once, croaking and flapping, taking offense at each other’s presence. The Mighty all roared and leapt out, firing in every direction.
Oscar dashed for a tree he’d been eyeing, the one with lots of branches, and didn’t stop climbing until he was out of beak-stabbing range. He held tight to the trunk, catching his breath and watching the chaos. Belatedly, he remembered to take out his Tool and snap some photos.
This was actually a good angle. He got a great shot of the captain aiming down the throat of a wide-open beak, then another a split second later when the beak snapped shut inches from his head. Another of the engineer shooting one from beneath. Two of the pilot tackling the largest bird and sinking teeth into the back of its neck where it couldn’t reach to stab.
Other species did their trophy hunting from a distance. The Mighty liked the fight as much as the kill. Their blasters were set on a deliberately low setting, and their teeth were sharp.
Safe up in his tree, Oscar grimaced at how bloody things were getting down below. He yelled another bird call to distract the one about to spear the crewmate who’d been knocked to the ground, and he got a cheerful “Nice save by the little guy!” which was as close to a thank you as he was going to get. The crewmate scrambled up and bit off a chunk while the bird was distracted. A couple of the crew looked like they were bleeding their own blood, but most of it was coming from the Dagger Birds, which were just as stubborn as the stories had said. Not one of them ran off. The last to die fell on top of somebody, which just added laughter from the rest of the crew to the triumphant cheers.
Oscar took a picture of the bird being dragged off his disgraced crewmate. That photo he wouldn’t sell, but would keep as minor blackmail if he ever needed it. Sticking it up on the wall to remind everyone of this moment could be a valuable strategic move.
“We are the MIGHTY!” bellowed the captain, and the whole crew joined in with a deep-voiced cheer. Oscar climbed down to more approval than he’d gotten in the last month.
“Good work by our human here! Who knew you could do that?”
“That’s sure an efficient way to hunt!”
“We should bring you out every time. That was great.”
Oscar took the praise with pride, not bothering with modesty. That was just another word for weakness as far as these guys were concerned.
He managed to dodge when one of them made to slap him on the back with a large bloodstained hand, which just made them laugh more. Luckily the captain directed everybody to gather their kills for dragging back to the ship, rather than chasing the human and messing up his clothes.
Oscar took a position on the lowest branch of his tree, taking a couple more photos as the victorious hunters figured out how to get it all home. If anyone had asked Oscar, which they never would, he’d have suggested going back for a hovercart, or taking them one at a time. But of course they did neither.
Definitely the type to insist on carrying all the groceries in at once, Oscar thought as his crewmates strained to drag the giant carcasses through the undergrowth. He hopped down and kept pace out to the side where there was no blood on the leaves.
They finally made it back to the ship, doing nothing to clean up the smears of blood they left on the landing pad. Oscar darted off to his quarters as soon as the door opened. The rest of them could handle getting the birds into cryo storage, or chopped up right away, whichever they saw fit to do. The lowest-ranking one without significant injuries would be in charge of clearing the blood from the hallways, but only after they’d all taken a walk through the water-and-air blast chamber that passed for a shower here. It had always reminded Oscar of a car wash.
He kept to himself until dinner, sorting his photos while everyone else dealt with the catch and the mess and the injuries. The mechanical medsystem on this ship was just as efficient as the shower. They’d all be in decent shape by mealtime.
And mealtime after a successful hunt was also drinking time.
Oscar usually ate in his room, wanting nothing to do with the raucous meat-tearing and drunkenness. But today was different, because he’d learned something valuable about the liquid they were getting drunk off.
Oscar considered the cans he’d bought, then decided it would have more of an impact if he just took one of the communal supply. So instead he grabbed his new food cubes and a premade tin of spaghetti from his mini-cryo, and followed the sound of laughter.
They were already a little drunk when he got there. Sprawled across chairs with a table full of meat slabs spilling over the edges of the plates. And as expected, there were tall purple cans everywhere.
“Heyyyy, it’s the little guy! Let’s hear it for the human with the surprise talent! Maybe you’re not useless after all!”
“Thanks,” Oscar said as they pounded fists against anything in reach as a form of applause. He leaned against the open doorway and shuffled his belongings so he could get a fork in a meatball without setting down the food cubes. “That was pretty easy where I’m from. You guys really can’t do that?” He popped the meatball into his mouth, casual as you please.
The Mighty of course, thought this was funny, and took it in stride. More gulps from their drinks, more savage mouthfuls of food, and a few questions about the surely-excellent photos he’d gotten, which would make them all look amazing.
Oscar said he’d share the best ones. These would make fine decorations in their own quarters, and would probably be appreciated by the right paying audience.
Then came the moment he’d been waiting for. The captain raised his drink in another cheer, and somebody noticed that the human was the only one without a can in his hand.
“Get the human a warrior’s drink!”
“Bet you he passes out after one sip.”
“Nah, he can take at least two.”
Oscar smiled quietly. If they’d been paying attention, they might have changed their bets at that smile. He set his food down in the hallway to free his hands. When one muscular, taloned arm offered him a can of their most potent intoxicant, he took it. Oh so casually.
Then he whipped his head back and chugged the whole thing.
“Oh! Human’s gonna die!”
“I’m not cleaning up the puke!”
“What the supernova! There are better ways to go than that!”
“Somebody drag him to medical so we don’t have to find somebody else to do the boring stuff.”
“Yeah, he was just getting interesting.”
Oscar ignored all of them, giving the empty can a thoughtful look. It felt like the same thin aluminum he remembered from Earth. And if there was anything his cousins had taught him, it was the proper way to dispose of a beer can.
He dug his fingertips in and crushed it against his forehead. Then while the room reacted to that, he wiped off the drips and threw the can across the room. When it went into the trash on the first try, he was internally very glad, but he didn’t let it show. Instead he picked up his food and resumed eating. “What’s the big deal?” he said. “Is that what you guys have been getting drunk off? How quaint.”
“How in all the black holes—”
“No, he’s gonna fall over any second; just watch.”
“Quaint, that’s hilarious.”
“He’s totally bluffing. Just wait and see.”
Oscar was enjoying being the center of the crew’s attention today. He made a show of sweeping his eyes across the various cans in the room. “None of you has finished a can yet, I see. Was that supposed to be strong?”
There was widespread laughing and elbowing of each other, most of them still clearly convinced that the silly little human was going to throw up and die any second now.
So Oscar set down his food, walked over to the table, and chugged a second one. It was a bit more liquid than his stomach was really happy with, but that was a small price to pay for the uproar that followed.
They exclaimed; they renewed their bets; they drank from their own cans; they got visibly drunker and abandoned their bets.
Oscar leaned against the doorframe, eating spaghetti and food cubes.
After one particularly unsteady crewmate tripped onto the table full of meat, and someone pointed out that the human wasn’t wobbling at all, Oscar said, “You guys don’t know much about my species, do you? Half of what I eat would liquify your insides.” He held up a food cube, eyeing the different colored specks of all the ingredients that made it balanced for an omnivorous digestive system. He laughed. “You guys just eat meat. How boring!”
They only got drunker after that. Oscar was pretty sure that the nearest two wanted to pat him on the back, but the floor was moving too much for them to make it all the way to the doorway. Somebody offered him a raw slab of Dagger Bird. He turned it down with casual scorn.
“Nah, meat isn’t worth eating unless it’s passed through fire. That’s weakling meat you’ve got there. Get back to me when it’s cooked brown.”
They loved that. The party was an epic one, only winding down when most of the crew was too drunk to reach more drinks. Oscar demonstrated his steadiness by picking through the mess to drop his food containers in the trash, then move back to the door.
“Well, it’s been fun,” he said. “I’ll send in the med-drone to make sure nobody’s going to wake up dead. Let me know if you want to get your tails handed to you by any more Dagger Birds. I’ll call ‘em in close for you again.”
He got groggy approval to that.
Oscar left with a smile on his face, and a mild amount of caffeine in his blood. Maybe after stopping by the medcenter, he’d use that energy on some exercise. Thoughts of the run to the hunting grounds, and the way his crewmates had paced themselves, suggested that it wouldn’t take much practice for him to out-endurance the Mighty on the VR treadmill.
I wonder what else I can do?
~~~~~~~~~
By popular request, this is the sequel to the story I posted last week, which is part of the ongoing series of backstory for the main character in this book. (It started that way, at any rate, and turned into a sprawling series in its own right. Fun stuff.)
Patreon opens the day after tomorrow, on May 1st! There's a free tier and everything if you want to keep up without strings attached! And you can even request more delightful nonsense like this.
Onward!
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full hcs for what post-route m6 would say if they got to talk to pre-memory loss mc for a few minutes?
The Arcana HCs: Post-Route M6 get 10 minutes with Pre-Memory Loss MC
Julian
He's sorry
There's a lot more he wants to say, but he begins with a stream of apologies when the person in front of him isn't the investigator who became his ally, but the assistant he failed to protect
He's not proud of it, but for a moment he feels himself slip back into who he used to be
Someone whose value lay solely in how useful he could be to someone else, self-hatred creeping back in like an estranged family member when he sees how useless he was to you
But the you from back then, standing in the middle of the plague and seeing someone stronger, better-fed, less sleep-deprived, the you from back then can see that he's grown. He's happy
The you from back then only seems to want to know if the plague you died trying to make up for had a cure, and if the doctor you lost your life assisting was ever able to find it
And he did. Twice. Without having to prove himself to anyone
Asra
Oh, how they used to miss this version of you
There's so much running through his head. On the surface, it's the first and only chance he's really had to see the difference between who you were when he lost you and who you are now
But deeper, it's the wave of phantom pains, pulling them under and back to when they would've given anything to see this version of you again, when they waded through hell to get you back
And the fear, flashing up from an underlying simmer, that the you then and the you now are so irreconcilably different that there's only one of you he can truly love
As they fold you into the kind of hug that only old friends share, the first difference they notice is that your heart doesn't beat in time with theirs the way they're used to - and it's their revelation
He had enough love in his heart for who you were - and it grew to love you back into his life - and more again to hold both of you in the current one. He has enough for every piece of who you are
Nadia
She's ... humbled, a little
The you that she knows and loves now is someone who has faced down the terrifying and illogical with her, who has supported her through the rejuvenation of an entire city
But the person standing in front of her reminds her more of the person who first walked in through the Palace gates
You're ... normal
Not in a bad way at all, but - you look like every other citizen her carriage passes on her way through the streets. She's reminded all over again how important seeing you in her dream was
Because if you hadn't been pointed out to her, if your first proper meeting hadn't been you freeing her from three years of nightmare plagued sleep, she would have never thought to seek you out
So when the you from the past seems surprised to see the elusive Countess, not nearly as well-known as her extravagant husband
All she really wants to do is thank you by showing you your worth
Muriel
Well. This is awkward. And that's coming from him
There's a well of emotions swirling in him as he looks at you, at the you that Asra left the hut to live with, at the you that took his only found family from him, at the you he came to resent
Because if the worst he can see when he looks at you is someone who captured more of his friend's attention than he did -
What do you see when you look at him?
The you from the past wouldn't have known him when he was retired and forgotten, the you from the past would've known him when he was a gladiator
Or more accurately, when he was the Count's executioner
He's not sure it's good for either of you to be looking at each other
But he can't turn away, and that's because not only do you not seem to be afraid of him, you won't stop looking at him
Your gaze feels the same. Exposing. Open. And though this one is considerably less affectionate - safe, somehow
Portia
She is both starstruck and deeply disappointed
Starstruck because the person she's looking at seems a lot more put together than who you are now, if a little less ... developed
Your magic hovers around you like an old friend and your eyes seem a little more sure about where they want to look
And that's exactly why she's also a little disappointed
Because you aren't like the person she loves now in that way. Who you are now is always looking, always soaking up the world around you like a sponge, because so much of it is still new to you
And nothing seems new to the past you - not even her
She's so happy to take your hands in hers and ask you all about who you've been and collect all the stories and fill in all the gaps she can, to better know how you got to where you are now
And then when the visit's over, she'll happily wave goodbye and walk forward to who you are now
But not without a word of encouragement to her darling first
Lucio
Oh. Ohhh boy
You see, he was fortunate to meet you when you knew fairly little enough to encounter him with an open mind. By the time you learned about his horrible past, you knew his present self
But past you ... past you seems to know quite a bit more
And he doesn't like the way you look at him
There's an edge of uneasiness to the way he plasters on a smile and loudly calls your name, only to be met with a gaze that's polite at best
You're not supposed to be polite to him, you're supposed to love him, to want him, to admire him when he's done good and call him out when he's done bad and forgive him when he tries to do better
At the same time, this is the version of you whose death he knows he's responsible for. It makes him wonder if he's a bad person for being relieved that you changed before meeting him
He'll be happy to leave - but he does manage an apology, first
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mayaree-darling · 1 day
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Only in the Cover of the Night // Sung Jinwoo
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pairing: sung jinwoo x reader
synopsis: your headache is not helping you remember that you have a boyfriend ready to care of you
from aree: guess who caught the dengue virus lmao i have three different sicknesses rn i wish i was joking. this was made for my bestie @fuyuu-chan coz she was dying from a headache but i needed this more apparently
content: pure fluff; no plot just vibes ngl; you have a headache and jinwoo is there to help/bother you
fic length: 1.7k~ (unedited)
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There's a glass of water and some medicine on your bedside table when you reach out your hand for your phone. You're glad you didn't knock anything over - only grazing the glass with your pinkie finger and the aluminum under your palm. It would've been completely fine to have them there - welcomed even - since you did have a bad headache right now, but you shoot up in bed when you realize.
You did not put those there.
You immediately regret the sudden movement when your headache comes back swinging, pounding into your brain like a drum. You eventually fall back into your bed with a hard thump. Even when the lights are off, it feels like the room is spinning. There are stars dancing in your eyes that are just a tad too bright, but definitely more than a tad annoying.
You sit up but slowly this time, gauging whether you need to lie down and sleep the next hour away again. When you don't feel like throwing up, you open your eyes and blink at the corner of your room. You know you're seeing lights right now with the migraine treating you like a punching bag, but…
Are they supposed to be purple?
You don't quite remember if the stars in your vision are supposed to be stationary, either. You move your head this way and that, but the lights stay in one particular corner of your room, staring straight at you. Staring seems to be the right term, the lights making you think of two, purple ey-
No. No, you look away and lean on your side, taking a steady breath in before shakily exhaling.
You are not gonna get killed by some ghost when you're already facing the migraine of the century.
You ignore the lights - you can deal with the ghost when you're all better and ready to throw down with the supernatural, but not now - and turn to where you remember your bedside table was. Where was your phone?
At that moment, you hear the familiar ring of a notification going off. You squint, expecting the unwelcome bright light of your screen, but it's not coming from your table. You freeze.
It's coming from the other side of your bed.
Surely you just rolled over and left it there at some point? Right, yes, of course. You're overthinking things. Your mind is just stuck in a hazy fog made by your sickness. Your paranoia is just stemming from the inability to process common sense. You're starting to think someone is in the room with you just because you-
The bed behind you tips from a foreign weight.
You jump from the bed, but your movements are more than clumsy. You make a hasty turn, trying to face whatever is behind you, but you get caught in your blanket. It envelops the lower half of your body and before you know it you're falling. You try to hold on to the bedside table but your movements are sluggish and you miss it by centimeters. You brace yourself for the impact-
But it never comes.
You feel warm. Arms are circled around you, hands on your upper back and around your waist. A chest is pressed against your own, both heartbeats racing as if trying to catch up to one another. You're overwhelmed by a woody scent (and something… burnt? it's not much but it's there). Although you have an afterthought that it should have made your migraine worse, it ends up comforting you more than anything. So familiar. The figure in front of you leans back, pressing you closer to them as they make sure you're both kneeling safely on the bed.
You're warm. Their warmth is a welcome distraction from the migraine that threatens to make you black out. They loosen their grip ever so softly only when your heartbeat calms down. Almost as if sensing their effect on you, they pull your head to their chest, the hand on your back coming to scratch lightly at your scalp.
There's a new beating in your head, in your ear, but this one is pleasant and makes you feel like you're in a dream you don't want to wake up from. You see a pair of purple eyes in the opposite corner of the room. They blink at you once before becoming one with the dark.
"Did I scare you, sarang?" The voice is muffled. Is it because of your headache again? But you feel it numbly vibrate through your head. You barely feel soft lips against your hair, but it's there, and the knowledge that it's present calms you impossibly more. "Sorry, I should have come through the door."
You reach up and grasp the back of their, his - Jinwoo's - coat. You run your hand up and down his back, trying to bring yourself back to the present with each feel of his coat's texture. Without meaning to though, the action makes him shiver underneath your fingers and you hear him suck in a breath. You feel more awake than you've ever been as you let out a muffled laugh into his sweater.
"You definitely should have come through the door," you mumble, burying yourself further in his chest. He definitely smells burnt. "I thought someone broke in."
"That would be a stupid move on their part. Beru would have slit their throats the moment they touched the door knob," Jinwoo scoffs and you can almost see the smirk on his face.
You groan as Jinwoo shifts in position. He holds you close still, making sure you're nestled in his arms. He leans on the headboard. "It's great you're not a burglar then. I don't feel like cleaning up blood right now."
He hums, tucking your face in his neck and placing his chin over your head. "Bold of you to assume I would've let you clean that. The only thing you would have to worry about is the floor being slightly wet with hydrogen peroxide."
"Can't let them find any evidence." You breathe out a laugh.
"I can even go the extra mile and make sure no one ever looks for him if you want."
"Thanks for the offer. I'll make sure to remember it." you manage another small laugh and Jinwoo offers a small scratch to your scalp in response.
A quiet fills the room and if not for your boyfriend's overwhelmingly comforting presence, you'd think you were still alone with your thoughts and pounding headache. Thanks to him, you were able to forget about the pain for a few minutes. You would've been able to be lulled to sleep again if not for something tickling at your senses, especially now that you're so close.
"What are you doing here? You should've gone home after finishing your dungeons."
"Who said I went to any dungeons today? I could've just been lazing at home for a change and thought about checking on my wonderful significant other," Jinwoo gasps mockingly, and when you look up at him, you find purple glowing eyes looking at you mirthfully.
You laugh blankly. "You talk like I don't know you. I think you'd keel over if you stopped going to dungeons. Also, your clothes are all burnt. I can smell it clearly even with this headache."
"Oh, sorry about that." He holds your shoulders, ready to move you away from him, but he doesn't. He just holds you, not quite sure or willing to push you away. "Should… should I go take a shower first?"
"No, don't go. I was joking," you huddle yourself closer to him. "Do that later. But not right now please."
He lets out a chuckle before relenting and bringing you back in his arms. "Anything I can do to help you feel better?"
"No, no, I'm good I just-" your words are cut short with your stomach rumbling. You don't say anything, and neither does he, but you know he's looking at you like you're a liar. You can feel yourself flush. "Okay, so maybe I'm a little hungry."
"I'll get you something to eat, then. I'll make you something good." he shifts his weight, ready to either get up or sink further into the sheets.
"Don't burn my kitchen again, Sung Jinwoo, or I swear this is the last time I'm letting you into my house." you poke at his side and he winces.
He takes the hand poking him and he pulls it up to his lips, kissing your wrist. You're thankful he can't see your face right now. Or maybe he can? You're not about to test that theory. "Bold of you to think you can keep your boyfriend out."
"Bold of you to think I can't break up with you. If I break up with you then it's considered trespassing whenever you enter my house uninvited, isn't it?" you try to fight back the grin that threatens to push at your lips.
The grin disappears, however, when you're suddenly thrown onto your back. Your fall is cushioned by a soft mattress and even softer arms. Jinwoo's weight is shifted on top of you as he hugs you, head on your chest and body slotted in between your legs. He buries his head in your chest, before reaching up and putting your hand over his hair. When the initial shock has passed, you grin and scratch at his scalp, too.
Jinwoo's voice is muffled. "…Please don't do that."
You laugh, lightly pulling at his hair. "Mhm, yeah, that's what I thought."
Jinwoo lifts his head enough to see your face, purple eyes almost glittering in the dark. "I promise not to burn your well-maintained kitchen with my awful skills."
He reaches over to the bedside table to flick the night light on, but you feel him stop short. His arms return to wrap itself around you once more and he buries his head back into your chest.
"Jinwoo?"
He groans before tightening his hold on you. "Let's stay like this for a while more, is that okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. I'd like that, too."
So you stay in the dark. You think you see purple lights in the corner of your room again. Watching, curious.
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✨ Masterlist ✨
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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avocado-writing · 18 hours
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Recently started play BG3, only on act 2 right now lol. I found your blog because this shit is my current hyper fixation and I love your writing. I was wondering if you could write how the BG3 cast would react to Tav haveing hanahaki disease.
Love you're writing!
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Astarion
Oh, when he notices, he feels an odd lurch in his chest.
You’re in love with someone? Who? It had better be him, he’s put effort into seducing you.
When he works out that he’s the object of your desire he’s over the moon! And then… ah. But it is a disease after all.
A lot of intense emotions flow through him. Of course he loves you, he’d be a fool not to. But can he admit that to you? Open his heart enough to let you in?
He sees you hacking up blood red roses and thinks, gods, if a few simple words are all this will take to solve it, why wouldn’t he?
He sits down next to you as you wipe your mouth, all awkward angles and longing gazes. Not his usual suave self at all. You go to ask him what’s wrong, and he blurts out that he loves you like he’s under duress.
You blink, amazed if slightly mortified by his tone, but then your lips curl into a smile. When you kiss him your mouth tastes of rosewater. Never does another petal pass your lips, and never does Astarion regret his confession.
Gale
When he sees you bringing up Sussur petals, he panics. It’s affecting your magic after all. Slowing your spells and causing lethargy in your casting.
He throws himself into research. Night and day he’s in his books looking for a cure. He rarely sleeps any more. Not until he comes up with a solution for you.
You’re getting worse and he’s being driven mad by it. If he could find out who you love he could help, but he simply has no idea…
Silly wizard has no idea the solution is right under his nose. Always has been. Because of course he loves you too, wants nothing more than to hold you and have you as his.
It takes the rest of the camp pointing it out to him before he realises, and doesn’t know how he could be so dense… but he knows he’s the luckiest man in the world if you love him.
He confesses in the middle of your coughing fit. The petals stop immediately. He would seal the look of adoration you give him into his heart forever.
No more Sussur. No more problems. Just joy.
Wyll
He’s seen this a dozen times in his youth. Time and time again people have perished from their courtly love in a flurry of flowers.
When he sees it happening with you? Oh, he knows immediately what is happening.
Doesn’t believe you’d be in love with him… but then he sees the loving looks you give him, the softness in your eyes. It clicks into place rather quickly.
And when he realises, you best bet he’s making a move to cure you.
An immediate embrace. A kiss where he tastes the petals on your lips. Your eyes are wide, but your throat is clear.
“I love you,” he states, no hesitations, just facts. There will be time for great romance later, but right now he just needs to make sure you’re safe.
When he’s certain your condition is cleared, no more coughing, he embraces you long and lovingly. Tells you what you mean to him. And when you plan your wedding… there will be no flowers.
Karlach
Panics when she finds you coughing petals. She might have been in Avernus for the past decade, but she knows hanahaki when she sees it.
Corners you one night and begs you to tell her who you’ve fallen for. She’ll help you confess!! After all, how could anyone not feel the same about you? Anything is better than this, this purgatory of petals where love is being kept secret.
Your smile is wobbly when you tell her there might be a time span on this person’s love. She thinks, oh, Gale? Because of the orb?
It takes a moment for things to fall into place. The way you look at her. Like she hung the stars.
“Oh, fuck. It’s me isn’t it?”
You go to leave, she grabs you and holds you back. Pulls you into a kiss. Only stops to tell you that she loves you. Goes right back to kissing.
It’s then she decides not to die. To find a way to live with you, even if it means returning to hell. How could she abandon you, when you love her so much?
Lae’zel
She is so utterly confused when you start hacking up petals. Is it a disease? Some sign of weakness? It is certainly nothing that a gith has ever experienced, nor would fall foul of. They are too strong.
Lae’zel mocks you at first, like she mocks everything, but it’s in order to hide how much seeing you suffer hurts her. She is a fool to have affections for someone so weak.
… isn’t she?
One night she corners Gale (quite intimidatingly) and gets him to inform her of your condition. He tells her all about hanahaki, and she says she must find out who you are in love with and get them to return your affections.
Gale blinks. “Lae’zel… it’s you.”
Oh.
It takes her a moment to digest this. She leaves Gale abruptly (“goodbye then?”), finds you, and drags you to privacy.
“I have been told to cure your disease you need a confession of love. This is my confession.”
The petals do not stop as you cough. With a small smile, a little smug, you tell her she has to be more specific. She huffs and you laugh.
She tells you she loves you in every language she knows. It works.
Shadowheart
The most perceptive of the bunch, Shadowheart knows you are in love with her from the moment you cough up Night Orchid petals.
It’s not subtle that you’re sweet on her. But she doesn’t say anything in return - she’s a sharran, after all, and doesn’t know how you fit with her future of being a dark justiciar.
And then… she finds selûne, and it changes. All of it. Especially her view of you. She can open her heart without fear now and she wants to welcome you in it.
She takes you aside one night. Sets up dinner. A bottle of the wine you shared on that first night by the cliff. Takes your hand and tells you she loves you, as easily as if she’s commenting on the weather.
You stop coughing. The petals cease. Your face lights up. She knows she wouldn’t change this for the world.
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samgirl98 · 3 days
Text
Orion Called Cepheus 2/2
Prev
They had come in the Batmobile.
Jazz was tense as Batman drove toward Gotham; Robin sat by him in the passenger seat. He would turn his head frequently to look at Danny. Jazz squeezed Danny’s hand hard. She couldn’t believe Danny would go behind her back and call someone else who knew nothing about his current situation.
She couldn’t believe her baby brother would want to leave her for his biological family. Jazz glared at her younger brother from time to time.
He looked away guiltily each time.
Danny was doing this for her. Jazz deserved to have a normal life. To go to university. She shouldn’t have to be on the run with him. She didn’t need him messing up her life.
The trip to Gotham was silent.
Jazz didn’t even raise her eyebrow when a secret passage was opened randomly at a back alley. Damned rich people. She held on to Danny’s small hand as they exited the Batmobile. She ignored Batman and Robin and looked around the cave. People were sitting by a huge computer.
Everyone stared at Jazz and Danny as they got out of the car. Jazz got in front of her brother to shield him from their eyes.
A man in a black suit with a blue bird turning into blue stripes on his arms got up. She may not know all the Gotham vigilantes, but she recognized Nightwing. He had an easy smile, probably trying to make her feel more at ease.
It didn’t work.
“Hi, I’m Nightwing. Nice to meet you and Danny.”
Jazz didn't shake Nightwing's hand. After a few seconds, Nightwing’s hand fell to his side, and his smile became a little strained.
“Right, well, welcome to the Batcave.”
Nightwing’s welcome echoed throughout the cave.
Jazz ignored the people in the cave and took her brother’s hand.
“So, now what,” she asked.
There was no way in the Infinite Realms she would let some fruit loops take her younger brother away from her. She had failed him once and wouldn’t do it again.
She felt a tug and looked down at Danny.
“Jazz, can I talk with Damian? I’ll be right back.”
“No,” she wanted to scream, “you’re staying with me!”
“I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
I’ll be here if anyone tries anything.
The silence got louder somehow the fainter Danny and Damian’s footsteps got.
“You’re not taking my little brother from me,” was the first thing she said. “You’re all strangers. I won’t let you take him away from me. He’s all I have!”
Jazz clenched her fists, ready to fight if she had to. She would take Danny out of the cave, kicking and screaming.
Batman put a gloved hand on her shoulder.
“We would never pull you two apart,” he said. His mask was off, and Jazz could see the sincerity in his eyes.
She couldn’t help it. She broke down crying.
Damian stared into the distance as his younger (now truly younger) twin brother told his story.
Damian tightened his hold on his sword’s hilt. He wanted to hunt down the Fenton’s and strike them down. For the first time in a long time, he wished he didn’t follow his father’s rules.
“Why didn’t you call me sooner, akhi? You knew I was Robin. We could’ve been reunited long ago; we could’ve been heroes together.”
“I didn’t want to bother you or father. And—and I was being selfish. I loved being in an environment where I didn’t have to fight to the death, where I didn’t have to kill. I’m sorry for messaging you now, but I need help…”
Damian hugged Danny, “Don’t apologize for calling me. I’m glad you did.”
“I want to be safe,” Danny sobbed, his little fists clenched, “I want Jazz to be safe.”
“I failed you the first time; I won’t fail you again, Cepheus.”
When the twins got back, Danny noticed Jazz’s red-rimmed eyes.
“Jazz, what’s wrong?”
“I won’t lose you, little brother. I refuse.”
“Jazz, you’ll always be my big sister,” Danny said, “but you deserve to live your life. Go to university, get your PhD. You shouldn’t put your life on hold for me.”
“You’re my little brother, and I will always put you above everything else.”
“That may be true, but you shouldn’t have to. Besides, with my father’s help I should be able to return to my real age. I hope.”
Damian cleared his throat.
“I am grateful for what you have done for Danyal. I will not seek to take over your role, but thank you. Father, my siblings, and I can care for Danyal from everything that would harm him. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
Jazz sniffed and took hold of Danny’s hands.
“Besides,” Bruce started, “there’s more than enough space here. You can stay for as long as you want. I can protect you and Danny from your parents. You don’t have to run anymore.”
Danny squeezed Jazz’s hand.
“I’m sorry for calling them without saying anything first, but Jazz, you deserve to live your life, too.”
Jazz looked at Danny’s young face and then at Bruce’s sincere expression.
“Thank you, I would like that,” she said while hugging Danny. Nothing would separate her from her brother.
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macgyvermedical · 1 day
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My Experience in Inpatient Psych
So I know a lot of people on here have talked about their experience in inpatient psych facilities, but I'd like to add mine just to give all you writers out there a writer-focused one. It's below the cut just in case you have to sit this one out for your own reasons.
To give you some background, I am 30 years old and have had hallucinations since about 16 and bizarre intrusive thoughts (someone living in my house that wasn't supposed to be there, somebody poisoned my walls, etc...) for about a decade, as well as very severe anxiety since I was about 3 years old. This is something not a lot of people know about me, even people I am friends with IRL.
The only thing I am actually diagnosed with is anxiety, which I'm starting to think is a failing of the psych systems I have been a part of. I have had counseling off and on and prior to this hospitalization I took escitalopram, aripiprazole, and gabapentin prescribed by my primary care doctor- all for the severe anxiety.
Quite frankly, I should have been in inpatient psych at least a few times before this, and it's by sheer dumb luck that I've survived to continue this blog.
On Friday, I was at home alone and made a few pretty bad decisions. I wont say what they were because frankly they're embarrassing, but they have to do with self-harm. I was scheduled to work Saturday and at about 9pm I realized that if I drove myself to work I would crash my car. Since my wife drives me sometimes, I figured I would just ask her to.
I told my wife and she asked- even if she drove me to work, since I was a nurse, would I be able to keep myself safe around insulin or other potentially dangerous drugs? I couldn't answer that question. We talked for a couple hours and came to the conclusion that I probably needed to go to the emergency department.
At this point I figured they would evaluate me and release me because I couldn't possibly meet the criteria for inpatient. I was wrong in this assumption. After telling them the decisions I had made that day, the feelings of wanting to die in a car crash, plus about a previous attempt, they recommended inpatient. Turns out, when you're a nurse, you can make some really bad life choices with the knowledge you have, and they didn't want to take any chances.
I was given paper scrubs to wear (so I couldn't hurt myself with my clothing or a hospital gown). I was also given a patient companion (someone who sits in the room and makes sure you don't hurt yourself).
They gave me the option of signing myself in voluntarily, or putting me on a writ of detention. A writ of detention is a piece of paperwork that allows a medical professional or law enforcement officer to hold someone for 3 days in a psychiatric facility against the person's will for the purposes of psychiatric treatment. Whether you sign the voluntary or get placed on a writ, you cannot sign yourself out. You need to wait until the psychiatrist taking care of you thinks you're ready to go.
I didn't believe at this point I needed to go inpatient, but I took the voluntary option because there are some perks, like being able to leave within 3 days if appropriate. At this point I was convinced I was probably going to have to call off work Saturday and Sunday, probably be out of the hospital Monday, have a few days to rest and be back at work on my next scheduled shift after that, which was Thursday.
Well, that's not what happened.
Because of some of the decisions I had made, along with bed availability, they wanted to keep me in the observation unit overnight before they sent me to psych. I stayed overnight in a unit that shares staff with the unit I work on, so I was taken care of by my coworkers. This was surprisingly not that bad. I like my coworkers and they were really professional about it.
Saturday I felt like I was in a fog all day. I couldn't watch TV. I couldn't color or write. I worked out some in my hospital room and paced the halls once or twice. Mostly I hung out with my wife and occasionally talked with my companion, but even talking was difficult. I had refused ativan because I felt like I had no hope of finding a medication that made me feel better, and I figured I didn't want to take the one medication that might actually work and then not be able to get it ever again.
Around 7PM I took a 45 minute ambulance ride to the facility. Getting my blood pressure taken is a big anxiety trigger for me, but my brain felt so scrambled that I couldn't express this well. They took it every 10 minutes on the ride there and by the time I got there it was in the 170s/100s (BP goes up when you're having severe anxiety). This was not their fault of course, but no matter how much I thought about telling them or refusing the BPs, I just couldn't do it.
When I got to the facility I was greeted by a tech who took my BP again (150s/90s this time), showed me around and looked through my personal belongings (basically just the clothing I came in with since my wife took my phone and wallet knowing I wouldn't be able to have them on the unit) to make sure I didn't have anything I wasn't allowed to on the unit. She showed me around my room and was really thorough with telling me how things worked, what the rules were, etc..
The rules included:
No patients allowed in other patients rooms
No personal belongings that had strings, belts, or laces, or that could be used as a weapon
No caffeine after lunch and no free access to caffeine
No personal electronics (including eReaders and watches). There was a TV in the day room and 2 phones mounted to the wall for patient use
A little later my nurse came into my room and asked me a ton of questions. Here's the thing about any hospital- you get asked the same questions over and over. By the time I'd gotten there I could give my story in under a minute. Or at least, that's what it felt like. There were only 2 clocks on the unit, at the nurses stations.
The unit itself was laid out in a "T" shape. There was a main nurse's station at the place where the two hallways intersected. At the end of the long hallway there was another smaller nurses station, a cafeteria/day room, and a "comfort room" which was a small room off the day room that had a collection of the oldest and worst donated books that have every come together on a bookshelf.
I did some pacing that night and then went to bed, but didn't sleep particularly well.
On Sunday morning the tech woke me up to take my blood pressure, which was, not unsurprisingly, still high. It was about 5 AM so I got up and paced the longer of the corridors for about an hour. Breakfast was served at 8 and the food wasn't that bad. The coffee was about the worst I'd ever drank, which I suppose helped with the no caffeine goals.
Just after breakfast I met with a psychiatrist on an iPad for about half a minute, and I'm not exaggerating there. The only questions he asked were whether I was suicidal and whether I would be fine with tripling my dose of aripiprazole in light of the hallucinations. I had had a 50-lb weight gain in the last year so I asked to switch my med. He switched the med to cariprazine. That was all.
I had a much longer meeting with my nurse later. All the nurses did an excellent job of assessing me, asked tons of questions, and it seemed like they really tried to figure out what was going on. That day I also met with a social worker, and a therapist, and a nurse practitioner. Each of them did an assessment to see what my needs were while I was there.
There was also a music therapy session where I cried my eyes out to Because of You by Kelly Clarkson.
I was really tired by the end of the day but I also didn't think I could sleep so I asked for trazodone. I should clarify that when I say "I" in this piece I really mean my wife convinced me to ask because I legitimately didn't believe I needed or deserved any of the things I asked for at this point. To my utter shock and surprise, they gave me the trazodone.
My first night on trazodone was amazing and I realized I hadn't slept well in a long time. With trazodone I fell asleep and stayed asleep until the blood pressure cart came rolling down the hallway at 5am. The second I got up on Monday morning I was wide awake.
I paced a lot Monday. I went to a goals session in the morning where I gave a goal to write 3/4 of a page. I didn't know if I could do it or what I was even going to write about, but I know I like to write and it might be a reasonable introduction to getting back to life.
I also was having kind of a rough day brain-wise. My brain was coming up with all the ways I could hurt myself in my room. There weren't a lot of them, but it was trying. I told the nurse during her assessment and she asked if I felt I could keep myself safe. I asked her what she would do if I said no. She said they could move me to a more secure part of the unit and give me more supervision. I knew what part of the unit she was talking about, and I didn't want to go there (no space to pace, and pacing was keeping me alive right then). So I told her I could keep myself safe (if anything, the idea of moving was good motivation to do stay safe in itself). I hallucinated some black and white blood cells falling from the ceiling and music coming out of my vents.
I also had another meeting with the social worker to figure out discharge plans. I voiced in the meeting that I wasn't sure that I could trust my wife, since it felt like at the time she was the one who exaggerated my symptoms to get me in here. The social worker said we had really good communication skills, since this was something I felt needed to be said in front of both of them and we both stayed really calm through the whole thing.
I finished the day with an art therapy session that really helped me turn a corner. The prompt was to draw the emotion(s) you felt right now on one side of the paper, and to draw the emotions you wished you could feel on the other side. For the first time I realized that my emotional state was actually really bad and that the suicidality hadn't come out of nowhere, and that I needed help.
When my wife came to visit later that night I was able to tell her about my breakthrough, even though I still felt a little bit like she had done something to get me in here and I still wasn't sure I needed to be inpatient.
Tuesday was a lot better. I felt like I had woken up out of some kind of fog and I had no idea how long I'd been in it. I went to goals group, a spiritual group, and group occupational therapy. My goal was to be more social and I made a friend and we paced together and worked out. I read a quarter of The Martian by Andy Weir (my wife brought it for me because the best thing on the bookshelf was Louis L'Amour). I wrote about how good I suddenly felt. Turns out, I thought, a few days of good sleep, lots of therapy, and a new medication or two will really change things.
A quick side note about The Martian. I highly recommend it to anyone who is chilling in a psych hospital but has the ability to read while they're there (I sure didn't the first few days). I don't really know why, but the first few times I read it, I felt like they had created this superhuman character in Mark Watney just so they could throw a ton of wild things at him for the story. This time reading it, as a suddenly not suicidal person, I realized anyone with Mark's skill would have done the same thing and not just died on Sol 7 to get it over with.
Wednesday I woke up not feeling nearly as good as Tuesday, but still like the fog had lifted. I was a little disappointed (I hallucinated my cat (thanks for coming to visit me, Corina), some spiders, and just felt kinda meh. But I remembered how good I felt the day before, and that really kept me hopeful about going home.
I saw the psychiatrist again and asked to go home. He joked a little about me staying till Christmas, but ultimately he said as soon as his note was in I could go. I ended up leaving at about 12:30 with my wife.
In the time since leaving I have required a lot of support from my wife. The medications are all locked up, so are the blades and anything I could use to hurt myself. My wife has me in eyeshot at all times. I can't drive due to intrusive thoughts, so she does all the driving now. I quit my job because I feel like it was a big part of why I ended up as bad as I was. As someone who has been a pretty independent person this is a big change of pace, but something that is really necessary to my healing.
Ultimately at the end of my hospital stay, I was prescribed escitalopram, gabapentin, trazodone, cariprazine, and then a few days later propranolol. I'm currently on a total of 5 psych meds and honestly I don't care one bit because its so much better than being not on them at this point in my life.
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bebeyeyo · 2 days
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i love everything you do. | 이바다
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genre: fluff
pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
setting: highschool au
content warnings: bullying, mentions of bruises and blood, ableism
disclaimer: reader is blind; and this has been in my drafts for too long. enjoy </3
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the feeling of being on cloud nine was always there whenever you were with bada.
you’ve always heard she was such a sweetheart with everyone, and this included you.
especially with you.
she treated you like a fragile being; one that deserves nothing but the best, even when you both had become the best of friends.
her acts of service had always been present, such as giving you her arm for whenever you’re both walking together. this includes for whenever you had to go down the steps of the school.
you’d always reassure her that you can do it by yourself, but she’d always insist.
or holding your things for you. even walking you home.
she wants to make sure you get home safely, but also gave her an excuse to be with you more often.
beginning the next stage of your friendship was the icing on the cake. you had a nervous and dorky bada asking you out with a bouquet of flowers.
of course, you said yes.
another reason you felt so happy with bada: she had never once judged you for the fact you had a visual impairment.
she never once tried to bring it into conversation or ask any questions, though you wouldn’t have minded.
bada treated you like a normal human being.
except, some others only saw you as “different” and decided to make you their target.
your biggest bully yet was im nayeon.
you had never understood as to why she loved picking on you so much, but you’ve always had to endure it alone.
bada didn’t like this one bit.
you stood at your locker putting in your combination for your locker when you felt someone shove you, making you things fall from your hands.
hearing the familiar laughter of nayeon, you sigh deeply out of frustration, your hands balling into fists.
“what is the reason you are picking on me again, nayeon? are you that bored or just insecure?” you ask.
she just scoffs, “how about you actually look at me when talking, you freak? you can’t even do that right.” nayeon waved her hand in front of your face.
with no hesitation, you swatted her hand out of the way which shocked nayeon and most people who were just bystanders.
the older girl didn’t like this, anger boiling in her veins.
“oh? she wants to fight back now?” you feel nayeon kick you over, causing you to land on your knees on the hard floor making you wince.
it’ll leave a bruise or two, for sure.
“cmon then, freak. fight me back!” suddenly you feel nayeon push your head into the floor, causing your ears to ring and you cry out holding your head.
everyone who was watching all stood with shocked expressions before you felt nayeon’s foot kick your stomach, as well.
you groan holding your stomach, the ringing in your ears didn’t stop.
you couldn’t register what happened, but all you heard was nayeon whispering what sounded like an “oh shit” before running off.
thankfully, two of your friends, jimin and minjeong were nearby and were quick to help you to the nurse’s office.
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thankfully, the ringing in your ears had finally stopped once your parents had gotten you to the hospital.
your father? hysterical. your mother? rage.
needless to say, you explained the situation with nayeon in a very weak manner from feeling so sleepy and ill.
your mother was ready to sue nayeon and her family left and right for what they were worth.
your father considered suing them and the school all together for letting this happen to you.
you tried talking them out of it to calm them down, but you gave up when you saw your father suddenly calling the school.
plus, you just wanted to get home and rest.
but, no one was as angry as your girlfriend that day.
bada was relieved you were okay, obviously.
truthfully, she wanted to bury nayeon six feet under.
which is why she was stomping up to nayeon at her locker, bystanders all watching with eyes wide open. almost everyone of the school knew that bada was a sweetheart, but when she was angry, you didn’t want to cross her.
“the hell is your problem?” bada says with the anger bubbling in her.
nayeon turns around confused, “what’re you even talking about, bada?”
the taller girl rolls her eyes, “don’t play fucking dumb, nayeon. you sent my girlfriend to the hospital.”
nayeon only smiles and chuckles.
“oh! you mean y/n. yeah what about it?”
“you’ve got some fucking nerve making fun of a disabled person. what has y/n ever done to you? are you that insecure?”
“oh please. i’m insecure of a girl who can’t see? humor me.” nayeon shrugs it off.
bada finally snapped, “oh, really? you think it’s funny? is this funny?”
nayeon felt bada push her head, the same way nayeon had slammed your head. except, the nearest obstacle was the lockers, so bada chose with the easiest route to go.
even tho she wanted to do so much more.
she had the thought of pouring bleach into the girl’s eyes. then again, she’d definitely be put behind bars.
can’t afford that, she thought.
nayeon held her head in pain before shouting, “are you fucking crazy?!”
bada only smirks.
“maybe i am, but you’ll be more much sooner,” bada gets close in nayeon’s face, so close that they could feel each other’s breath blowing.
“i’m only going to say this once, so you better fucking listen. although, i know that’s hard for you to do. if you ever so much as look in y/n’s direction from here on out, or try anything against her, i will fucking ruin you. you forget, i know your family and their reputation. i can easily ruin yours and theirs with just a whisper.” bada threatens.
the fear in nayeon’s eyes added satisfaction to her pride.
nayeon could barely register before she felt bada shove past her.
but if nayeon wasn’t embarrassed and angry then, she totally was now.
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“you brought me flowers?” you ask as you sit on the edge of your bed, smelling the lillies that bada had bought for you.
“of course. can’t i get some flowers for my lovely girl?”
“what did you do?” you instantly ask.
she pouts, “why do you assume such a thing?”
“because i can feel you did something so spit it out.” you chuckle.
“well,” she starts, “i may have had a word with nayeon…maybe pushed her head a little…into her locker.”
your jaw drops a bit, “bada!”
“okay okay, look, it’s just karma. she’s a fucking bitch and she shouldn’t be so damn ableist. i should make her blind.” she crosses her arms.
you shake your head, “bada, i appreciate you for defending me. trust me i do, but i don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“…i know.” she mumbles.
“so please, no fighting.” you take her hand and squeeze.
reluctantly, she agrees.
“and besides, how can you be there to be my knight in shining armor if you’re stuck in detention?” you ask as you put your head on her shoulder.
“hm, you’ve got a good point.” you giggle along with her.
“i love you.”
“i love you too, y/n.” she says as she kisses your forehead.
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Note
Did you get a request? It's headcanons for Wyll, Dammon, and Rolan being jealous of some guy is flirting with their female s/o although she's oblivious that he's flirting with her? He's so possessive that he even took her back home to have a heated make-out while holding her close! (For Dammon & Rolan, please have his tail wrapped around her 🥺). Please stay safe! Thanks!
I did, in fact, get your request, Anon! I just had a few ahead of you!
~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~
Wyll
Will is a pious man. He tries really hard to remain level-headed and cool as a cucumber.
That doesn't mean he doesn't have a moment or two of self-doubt or even rage.
Wyll is very quiet until he needs to speak up. He likes to observe and monitor the situation. For example, Y/N is being touched and laughing with Astarion for too long.
Wyll tried at first to use justification; maybe this is happening cause you are planning a battle strategy, or you need something lock-picked.
As the night progresses, he gets even more anxious and feels his blood boiling. Why haven't you come to his tent yet? Why are you busy now talking to that stupid Wizard?
Will would like do some soothing mantras, maybe even yoga, to calm himself down.
When you moved to talk to Halsin over him, though, all bets were off. Will stormed over there, so red in the face he rivaled the trim of his shirt.
Will is never physically harmful, but he did grab the back of your neck like a cat and redirect you to his tent.
As he let you in his tent before he entered, he turned to look at all the others in your group and stared them down individually before joining you.
Wyll hugged you close and sighed into your shoulder now that you were finally in his grasp.
As he calmed down, he started to feel really bad for his emotions and feelings of jealousy.
While doting on you, apologizing for his transgressions, you would tell him how much you liked it and thought it was hot.
That was all he needed to form an impish grin and smash his lips against yours. Wyll left hickies in places you didn't know hickies could go.
The following day, he had a huge grin, and you, sore and refreshed from your night together, proved to everyone in camp who owned you.
Dammon
Dammon is pretty secure in himself. His whole life, he was told how attractive and good-looking he was. Being a blacksmith just made him that much more attractive because of all the manual labor he had to do.
Dammon was indeed possessive of you but trusted you, so he didn't think he needed to show it all the time.
That was until the day those travelers came to town, and all resolve Dammon had was ruined.
It's not that he lost trust in you. No, he lost the ability to trust others as that man began to touch you and play with your hair even after introducing himself as your partner.
Dammon was hot, not just physically but mentally. He was beginning to see red.
Dammon knows how oblivious you can be. Hell, it took him eight weeks to get you to realize he had feelings for you because you were so clueless, but he loved that about you.
Dammon watched from afar as the travelers asked you more questions about the town and kept touching your arm.
Dammon did, in fact, ruin three swords while watching this whole interaction.
After the third sword snapped, he had enough. Dammon walked right over to where you two were talking. He shoved the traveler out of the way, grabbed the back of your head, and smashed his lips against yours.
Man did not stop kissing you until he needed to breathe. When he pulled away, he turned and looked at the traveler, who was mortified by the intense PDA just witnessed.
If someone were to ask Dammon what the bruise on his hand was, he would say he accidentally hit it with his hammer. If someone asked you or anyone else nearby, Dammon broke a man's nose and probably cheekbones.
After Dammon's display of superiority, he wrapped his tail around you gently and guided you back to your home, where he made sure everyone knew you were claimed by him from here on out. (I am talking about hickies; I do not believe Dammon would brand anyone with his equipment.)
Rolan
Rolan comes off as self-absorbed, but that's only because he is so scared of messing up and losing what little he has left.
He is very, very invested in his studies and in continuing to be the best Wizard on the coast so he can protect you and his siblings.
Once he had control over the tower, his obsession with learning grew even more, which never bothered you; seeing him succeed made you so happy.
Rolan would be in the middle of reading a book downstairs when he hears your laugh from the other side of the room.
Curious about what you found funny and wanting to reconnect with you since it had been a while, imagine his surprise when he saw you laughing at a Sorcerer who wandered in.
Hoping his eyes were deceiving him, he hid behind a bookshelf, watching as you checked out books for this man and laughed at his tales from the field.
Nothing seemed inherently wrong with the interaction; as Rolan began to blow it off, he noticed the Sorcerer's eyes rake across your body. Oh. Hell. No
Rolan redirected his attention to you two and noticed all the small queues the Sorcerer was giving, from prolonged hand touching, overzealous compliments, and those damn eyes.
Once all his books were checked out, the conversation should have ended there. You could have even said goodbye and wished him a nice day. Yet that man stood there and kept talking for ages.
Once, Rolan heard the dreaded words, "Wanna hit a tavern with me?" He used Misty Step, the fastest he had ever had, and appeared before you.
At this moment, Rolan was the exact verbiage of 'if looks could kill.'
Putting on one of his business fake smiles, Rolan tried to strike up a conversation with the lesser-than-magic user.
What this man did that made Rolan's blood boil was that he ignored him and talked through him before starting to speak to you again.
Before you could defuse the situation at all, Rolan had already cast a few spells and charms on him. Rolan calmed down from rage to something else as the Sorcerer left his tail between his legs.
When he looked at you, he looked like a man in heat. Scooping you up, he quickly took you to his quarters.
"I must not have been paying you enough attention if others think they can claim what mine is."
Rolan devoured you that night and ensured you were covered in his love and admiration.
From then on, when out on the floor helping customers and guests in the building, Rolan kept a possessive tail wrapped around you until closing hours.
I hope you all enjoy this one. It is a bit longer than last time. I hope it is good enough. I am feeling stronger and more confident in my writing every day. Thank you, everyone!
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