#And sometimes the everything hurts disorder makes moving painful.

[makethemhoesmad]

love you till my lungs give out

paige bueckers x reader

word count- 2k(lord)

notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.

thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them

also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this

—

the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.

“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.

“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.

“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.

the second time, i know what i did.

“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options. 

“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”

she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands. 

“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.

“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.

“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.

“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”

i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now. 

the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.

“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.

“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.

“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?” 

“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?” 

she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.

the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.

“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.

“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.

“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.

“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.

“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.

“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.

this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.

i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.

“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.

“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.” 

“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.

sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.

i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.

“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.

“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me. 

“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way. 

“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it. 

“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.

“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.

“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

at some point, she wins

“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.

“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.

“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.

“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”

after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.

[ilsolefiesta]

some self-analytic observations based on my natal chart

1. the 9th house Moon & Saturn + Sagittarius IC conjunction with Chiron always make me think that my true happiness and home are elsewhere but here. I'm always dreaming of moving abroad but Saturn... I've never even travelled abroad. hope I make it someday.

2. also about the 9th house Moon. I can't say for sure if this is the reason... maybe I can also add Pisces DSC here. but all my relationships (there have only been two of them, lol) had some... foreign fleur, I guess? despite the fact that there were no actual cultural or mental differences between us, my first boyfriend still was from a different nationality. as for the second one, he was a Sagittarius with experience of living in different countries. well, when is my turn, huh???

3. some people might consider Libra Venus in the 2nd house to be materialistic... WELL, I can say that this is only partly true. perhaps the restrictions of Virgo's placements don't allow me to go crazy with money issues. but to be honest... both of my ex-partners had a better financial status than me. I swear, I didn't choose them for that reason!!!

4. my Taurus Moon (Moon again...) makes me a true foodie. my mood totally depends on whether or not I've eaten. I've had situations where I get mad at someone simply because I'm hungry. I see delicious food as the main source of happiness in my life. and here goes big BUT. my Moon is squared by Uranus, so guess who has eternal dieting periods and eating disorder?

5. my Sagittarius Pluto is located in my 3rd house and it is also the ruler of this house. my little sister, who is Rising Sagittarius with Scorpio Moon, and I have a really deep relationship, but we ALWAYS seem to have intense and sarcastic arguments. she is extremely emotional and vulnerable (+ Cancer Sun), so she often attacks before someone else can hurt her, like a hedgehog. my cutie.

6. continuing the topic of the Moon and family in general. my Taurus Moon has made my relationship with my mother seem a bit... materially focused? I love her dearly, but for a long time I saw her as someone who just cooked, bought my clothes, earned money and was concerned about my physical well-being. in terms of emotions we were stable and neutral. by contrast, my sister has far more intense feelings - they have many arguments, resentments and mutual claims. it's strange and fun to witness this love-hate dynamic.

7. I also see a connection between the charts of our parents and our charts. my mother is Rising Cancer with Sagittarius Sun. it's vice versa for my sister. despite the fact that she is an exact copy of our father in terms of appearance... my 1st house Sun makes me a real father's daughter. btw, he had Libra Sun with Virgo placements. so, it's again vice versa. my personality is greatly influenced by his, and his upbringing has had a significant impact on me. having Chiron conjunction with IC as a family house... losing him is still one of my most painful wounds.

8. 1° Virgo Mars in the 12th house supported by Capricorn Lilith... I'm still learning how to deal with my anger in a healthy way and the need to control everything. sometimes I feel a truly destructive desire to release my anger, even if it hurts other people. in such cases, I usually go for a walk alone for about 30.000 steps to fix it and calm down.

9. the conjunction of my Jupiter and MC makes me extremely delusional about becoming famous and global. I'm not sure what to do about it. maybe I should see a therapist.

10. the connection (however it's not very accurate in my case, somewhere it is stated to be a conjunction) of Venus and Mercury in Libra is usually said to have some special, magnetic voice features. while I cannot say for sure what is meant by "special features", I've often been told that my voice and way of speaking have a calming effect on people and can even make them feel sleepy if they listen for too long.

11. I guess, it's again about my active 9th house, but I'm good at learning foreign languages and it comes naturally to me.

12. having Rahu in my 11th house... I guess it has an aim to teach me how important friends are. my social circle greatly changed many times over the years.  I've had about 10 "best friends", but we don't communicate anymore. as my 11th house is in Cancer, each time it was very personal and dramatic for me. so, at some point I began to think about friends with "easy come - easy go" philosophy and didn't want to be attached to someone anymore. after that, I met someone who has been my best friend for four years already, and we've been through living together, long-distance communication, shared interests, traveling together, and haven't had any serious arguments yet. I think this is also connected to my Ketu-Lilith conjunction in Capricorn and control issues, something from "previous" karmic experience. after learning to let things go their own way, I have succeeded.

13. having my Saturn in square with my Mars makes me a kinda... renegade? I've always had troubles with authority figures, like teachers and directors. like "why should I listen to and respect you if you're saying nonsense?" however, my Mars is weak, so I tend to just silently complain and endure it, haha.

14. also, there is an interesting connection between Sagittarius IC and Gemini Saturn in the 9th house. my family is strongly religious and I was raised according to Christian beliefs. as the 9th house is also the house of faith, guess whose Gemini Saturn is rationalizing everything and saying: "it has nothing to do with me. I cannot simply believe in something 1) unjust 2) having weak evidence" etc. I guess my family secretly hates me for this when we discuss religion...

15. Libra Venus trine Aquarius Uranus has given me a good aesthetic sense in terms of visual arts. I'm not that bad at digital art (art in general, but that's not the main issue). damn, why it feels like I'm bragging... nevertheless, my friends and family often ask me to take photos of them and do "post-production", as I've been learning Photoshop since I was 11. I'm really a huge perfectionist when it comes to it. I "blame" Uranus specifically because it rules technologies.

16. Mercury is the dominant planet in my chart and it doesn't have any harsh aspects. + it forms a trine with my Uranus. I learned to speak when I was around 1-1.5 years old.

17. I don't know why, but Virgo Sun & Ascendant haven't made me obsessed with cleaning, despite the stereotypes. in fact, my house often gets messy. HOWEVER, when I do start cleaning, it can take up the whole day...

18. Sun and Ascendant in the same sign really make me really obvious to define. people often say that I'm that one pedantic killjoy when it comes to communication. I'm really sorry about this, but I can't help it, haha.

19. Pluto in the 3rd house + Virgo Mars in the 12th house, I guess, is the duo which explains my irrational love to songs with some harsh, disrespectful, and dark lyrics. I mention Virgo Mars here because I feel that it helps me to deal with my internal aggression properly. and also Libra Venus and Mercury in the 2nd house... my guilty pleasure is to listen to rappers' lyrics, when they sing about being broke nonames initially and achieving money, girls, fame and, overall, being on top now.

20. active 5th house with Leo as a ruler of the 12th house... it's tough. I really enjoy imagining myself on stage, receiving attention. I think I have a potential at least to act 'cause my image and appearance can dramatically change if I want them to. a friend of my ex-boyfriend, who saw my Instagram profile once said that he couldn't believe that the same person was in all the photos. my makeup artist also told me that I have the appearance of a chameleon and it's possible to create any image on it. but the reality is cruel and when I actually receive attention, I become scared and shy, not knowing what to do next. is there any way to overcome this..?

21. btw, Virgo ASC and that "you can be anyone" feature. I personally believe that it's hard to identify them by their appearance as this ASC can give a slightly... standardized appearance? especially if a certain person has some strong planets connected to ASC / the 1st house (for example, my 1st house Sun gave me red hair when I was a child), they can easily be mistaken for anyone. I may be biased, but you can identify Virgo Rising by their behavior or style, but not by physical traits.

Thank you for reading!

Maybe there are some mistakes, so I'm sorry.

That's how my first post came to be. I've talked a lot about myself. Damn. But writing about oneself is always the easiest thing to do. Hope someone can find it relatable. I also attach my natal chart here. Maybe you will find something interesting in it or make some assumptions, I'm opened to discuss your placements if you want to!

Pictures credits: Pinterest

[hongtiddiez]

last twilight e8 thoughts, feelings, and tears

ok i cried for like 10 minutes after the episode ended so forgive me if this isn't up to par of what i usually do. apparently i'm fragile today.

there was a lot i liked and didn't like about this scene. in the past we've seen Day cling to the idea that someday he'll see again, that this is all temporary. instead of reiterating that, instead of talking about the cornea transplant, he instead asks "what can i do?" it's such an insanely massive sign of his growth. i'm so fucking proud of him. it made me so fucking emotional because while he's still upset, he's still hurt, he's still angry, he realizes his reality and he's making steps to move forward with that.

what i didn't like about this scene was once again Day's mother acts like Day's life is ending. she's been the number one person to coddle Day and to reassure him of this surgery that may never happen. i know she means well but fuck. this has to stop.

i also fucking hated the doctor for this. Day isn't fucking dying, there's still so much he can do even once his sight is completely gone. sure, he'll have some limitations, i get that. i can't swim in the ocean or rivers anymore. that fucking sucked to learn right before going on my honeymoon to the beach. but you know what i could still do? walk across the beach to the little hidden tide pools, sit on the jagged rocks, and watch the crabs and fish and anemones and everything thrive in this tiny little ecosystem. it was still amazing and something i may not have done if not for my disease keeping me from going in the water.

we're limited by our disabilities but we aren't fucking dead - life goes on around us and we can either participate in it or wallow in our fate. i'll talk about this more later.

you can skip this next paragraph if you don't want to see me babble on another personal anecdote.

i will say i saw a lot of myself in this moment. something similar happened to me a few weeks ago. i learned my disability is no longer responding to the treatments and i'll have to have multiple surgeries next year to close some year old wounds and will probably need some skin grafts. my disease is no longer managed but once again getting worse. when the doctor told me i just nodded and discussed the game plan. meanwhile, my mom was heartbroken and kept asking if there was anything that could be done. (nothing that i'm not already doing.)

sometimes we just have to nod along and accept what's happening. we can cry about it and get pissed later if we have to.

ohhh there's so much i want to talk about here. Day's mom infuriates me, probably because she's the opposite of everything my mother ever was when faced with my disabilities. her constant refusal to address Day's blindness is so painful, as if it's somehow a reflection of him as a person or a stain. it's just a fact of life and her denial is doing so much more to hurt Day than to help him. as much as i hate it, though, it is realistic. it can be so hard for those close to us to acknowledge what's going on, especially when they can't experience it for themselves or they aren't around day to day.

which brings me to the part that frustrates me the most. i'm going to get REALLY personal here.

TW FOR SUICIDE AND MENTAL HEALTH ->

i'll put another message when this little anecdote is over so ya'll can skip to that.

i've been diagnosed with major depressive disorder since i was 15. when i was 16 i tried to kill myself. my mom didn't know until last year, but at the time she knew my depression was getting to a concerning level of bad. you know what she did? she quit her job. she made any sacrifice she could to stay home with me and make sure i was safe and felt heard and taken care of. granted, she wasn't a single mother at the time but we also weren't rolling in the money. my dad was a construction worker in the early 2000s when construction work was struggling HARD.

but that's what you do for your kids, that's what you do to take care of them and make them feel heard and loved and cared for unconditionally. my depression and desire to die wasn't a stain on who i was, it was my mind holding me hostage with no way out because they couldn't give me medication until i turned 18.

OKAY IT'S SAFE NOW ->

anyway, where i was going with that is that Day's mom, as a famous chef, clearly makes enough money to take time off work, to be there for her son, to stay home and make him feel loved and cared for. there's likely a lot going on on her end of being a single mother, of feeling like she needs to prove herself and show the world she can do this alone - but her son doesn't have to do it alone just because she wants to. he needs a support system and right now all he has is Mhok.

Day's anger is so real and so justified. he must feel abandoned by his mother, by the one person that should be there to comfort him and keep him safe. her love has become conditional on the state of his eyesight.

and then she tells him he can't go? he's not a fucking child. he's a full grown man and he was just told to do things while he still can see at least a little. i told my mom the exact part of the plot and her response was "well fuck her, he's gotta go." you're god damn right he does, mom.

everything Night does feels like repentance. i need know what the story is, i need to know what caused this massive fissure between them. i don't want to comment or speculate too much but at this point i can no longer condemn Night. he's trying, he's clearly trying so fucking hard, and he clearly has so much love for his brother.

and him giving Mhok money and letting him and Day escape because he knows Day will be happier? i really hope that is a step in the right direction of mending whatever was broken between them. there are only four episodes left and i hope bare minimum half of them deal with what is going on here.

The sea remains the sea. The sand remains the sand. The sky remains the sky. Though I can't see, everything remains the way it is.

and here we are. being diagnosed with a disability is a massive change in our lives, a huge hurdle we have to climb, but at the end of the day the world still turns, life still goes on, and we can either go with it or remain stagnant. this is the culmination of everything Mhok has shown Day. Mhok has constantly brought Day out to participate in life, to learn how to navigate the world that remains unchanged. while Day's world has changed it remains the same in so many ways. this is such a beautiful moment of acceptance and peace, of healing and moving past the hurt. once again, i am so proud of Day.

he's going to be okay.

i've seen others mention it but fuck this once again drove home how soft and caring Mhok is, something that's been so constant in this episode from his willingness to help Day, to the keychains, to the escape, and now this. this little act of asking for permission, of giving Day permission, of almost asking Day 'will you kiss me?' and then Day does. Day gives Mhok the first kiss initiated by him. until now it's always been Mhok but this time Day reaches out to Mhok in this gritty, sand filled kiss. (disgusting but still lovely)

and this really drove home how safe Day feels with Mhok. they're somewhere completely new and unpredictable but he suggests they drink and participate in the party - and i love that he doesn't ask for permission but rather says 'why not?' because Mhok has never made him feel like he needs to ask for things, not things he's fully capable of deciding for himself.

and they do! they act like the young adults they are and have an amazing night of just fun and laughter and love and i fucking love that for them. how many times have we seen Day get to act his age and be carefree? it's remarkably telling how free Day feels the further he gets from home, how free his love is when he isn't worried about his family. when he's away from home Day really becomes the sun.

(also i think i might make shirts like this with my husband as a fun activity because that's really cute.)

i'm fine, i'm fine, i'm fine. (i'm lying.) the amount of love they have from here on is almost palpable. the fact that Mhok takes the time to tell Day he looks good, that he's admiring him. fuck. it makes me think of just a bit before, where we see Day linger with his fingers against the mirror. Day hasn't seen his own reflection in over a year, he has no idea what he looks like anymore. he won't get to see the way age changes him, won't get to see the wrinkles and laugh lines form on his face.

but Mhok will be there to tell him, to say how handsome he is, and without fully seeing Mhok Day will know he is equally as handsome because he knows Mhok's voice, his character, and sure he knows what everyone has said about Mhok's appearance but who he is has always been more important.

and then for them to essentially say their own vows in the light of the setting sun? oh, my loves.

Day is starting a new chapter in the book of his life, a new chapter with Mhok and hope and confidence. he's taking back control and paving his own way and no matter what comes he'll face it head on.

i started crying here and didn't stop, P'Aof please i'm sending you bills not for my therapy but for all the water i have to buy to rehydrate myself from all my tears. once again, fucking hell i'm so proud of Day.

and he tells them to have a kid soon! so he can help raise it!! just like he'll probably help raise Porjai's kid. because he no longer sees himself as incapable, as someone unable to help. Mhok has shown him how capable he is, how much he can still do.

please allow me a moment to - AAAAAAAAA.

personally i cannot wait for all the gifsets we're going to see of this moment. they danced so perfectly together because they know each other. Mhok knows Day better than anyone else, they've gone through so much, and they move so intrinsically together. i'd say they know each other better than anyone else but there's still so much of Mhok left unexplored. there's so much Day still doesn't know, so much pain Mhok is still hiding.

i can't wait for them to truly know each other inside and out (not like that, but hey it looks like we're getting that next ep eeeyy)

i'm not really going to comment on the dad showing up at the end. i feel almost nothing about that, i'm just waiting to see how that turns out and reserving my opinions for now. (i had a shit dad, i'm a little bais.)

man, i'd hoped this would be brief with how raw i was feeling and how busy i am with work but GUESS NOT. thanks for reading as always tag loves: @nutcasewithaknife @benkaaoi @callipigio @infinitelyprecious

[t4tozier]

what a lovely day to post about disabled richie tozier (cw: description of tics and stims!)

after the fall out of the deadlights, he severely fucks up his knees and ankles

the adrenaline keeps him going until they get out of neibolt at which point he just collapses

he leaves the hospital with knee braces and crutches and it’s a little scary at first

he’s never had any issues with walking other than then general getting-old charlie horses when he stretches the wrong way, so suddenly needing multiple aids is jarring

but eddie’s in a wheelchair now because of his spinal cord injury, so at least they can commiserate

after a few months, richie’s able to walk slowly just using the braces, but every step hurts

the under-arm crutches also sucked, though, so he finds himself using forearm crutches for anything more than walking around the house

and sometimes even then

he’s not off balance, he can stand on his own, but sometimes he wishes he had the chair because standing for too long in one place hurts, too

he’s mostly neutral about his aids but he does love helping eddie decorate his wheelchair bc he knows it’s been a huge adjustment

he slapped an old tour sticker on the back at one point and even though eddie pretends to hate it they both know it’s one of his favorites

richie’s known he’s autistic for a long time

he has some other tic disorder but he’s never looked too much into it or been diagnosed because it hasn’t been severe enough for doctors to care or recognize it as more than his normal stimming

and he doesn’t particularly care either—it’s just another part of him and getting an official diagnosis won’t actually do anything for him

he used to rock back and forth on his toes and bounce his leg a lot but that got a lot more painful after derry 2.0 so he’s had to adapt

he finds himself shaking his hands a lot more, and he still rocks when he’s sitting down

he chews on straws so much that eddie finally gets him one of those silicone ones and richie’s elated

he bites through it in a week

his tics mainly come out more when he’s stressed or intoxicated; they tend to lean more physical when stressed and verbal when he’s drunk or high and he doesn’t know why

his head/neck jerks so hard he strains muscles and he’s hit his chest with enough force to bruise before but he doesn’t try to avoid them because he knows it’ll only make it worse

when he’s drunk he does a lot of humming and whistling—he can perfectly mimic the tweet whistle/ringtone

he actually doesn’t have coprolalia, although he will absolutely blame his lack of filter on his tics if needed

the man did not know what ableism was until derry but now he calls the losers out all the time as a joke

he had a meltdown when mike called him

he spends so much of his time masking around other people that it was hard for him to drop it and he has meltdowns more frequently than he really should as a result

he’s finally started to relax around the losers like he used to, but some days he puts the wrong clothes on and he made the last of the cinnamon raisin toast last night when he got the munchies and there are too many dishes in the sink and when he tries to wash them the water gets inside of the gloves and everything’s just itch itch wet wrong bad and eddie finds him curled in a ball on the floor of the kitchen

when this happens, eddie makes sure richie has his phone so he can text if he wants and he gets the cinnamon raisin bread delivered and has richie change into comfier clothes when he’s ready to move and then they go watch a movie with richie’s head in eddie’s lap and everything is always loud loud loud in richie’s head but for a few minutes, at least, it’s quiet

[v3nusxsky]

Greetings! I’ve been loving all your Lady Lesso work and want to request something but romantic. Basically the reader’s ex-girlfriend was abusive and made her develop an eating disorder, however she’s really good at hiding it. Lesso eventually discovers how the reader sometimes starves herself and immediately confronts/comforts the reader saying she loves her no matter what. Thank uuuuuu 🙏

Hello my dear! I’m so glad you have been loving the fics I’ve been loving hearing from all of you :)

Lean on me Darling

*Authors note| this is such a beautiful prompt and I love that you are trusting me with such hard but important topics. It feels me with pride that I can shed light on these topics and raise awareness. Most of the what I write comes from experience but if I don't know I do research to ensure I get everything right*

Trigger warnings ~ Abusive ex, eating disorder (starving/skipping meals)

Prompt~see the ask <3

It was getting bad again. You knew that. Yet you still felt absolutely powerless to stop it. And before you knew one missed meal became two then three. It was a dangerous vicious cycle, unfortunately one that you had been in before. Sometimes you knew a relapse was coming, certain triggers were easily spotted and you could work hard to counteract them. But you couldn't stop this one. So you did what you always do. You buried yourself in your school work, avoiding everything like she had taught you.

Your ex girlfriend knew of your eating issues, and you thought she was helping. After all that's what she said she was doing. You allowed her to take control over your meals when you mentally couldn't cope with it. Little did you know you were being manipulated and abused under the pretence of love. She knew of your poor family relations and that made you an easy target. Only now you had finally escaped her clutches did you see just how toxic she was. Moving to the school for Good and Evil was a fresh start for you and that's what made this relapse ten times worse. The guilt. You were messing up your fresh start all by yourself. And that fact seemed to make you slip further and further into the dark thought space.

You were quite good at masking relapsing by now. You knew the appropriate amount of time to sit at the table pushing the food around the plate before you could get up and leave. You knew the best places to hide food if anyone had given it to you. You knew how to dump any food that was unable to hide. You knew how to disguise the dizziness and the fact weight was falling off you at an alarming rate. You knew if you drank enough that your stomach would remain silent. Filling up on water was something that allowed you to hide your relapse for so long. She had also taught you all of this.

That's how you managed to hide from the great Dean of Evil for so long, in fact it had been months now. You were definitely getting unhealthier as the days trickled by but you couldn't make yourself care. You knew you deserved this, to suffer, to hurt after all what's beauty without pain? Her words would circle through your mind on an unrelenting loop. So much so you had fully conceived yourself that she was right. You needed this. You needed to suffer. Then maybe you'd be beautiful. However your mask slipped the day you passed out in Curses and Death traps.

Lesso had her students sparing in an attempt to strengthen their abilities, your ability was physically and mentally demanding, you knew that but try as you might you were not getting away with not participating. You took deep breaths and attempted to survive the spar but your weak exhausted body couldn't put up with the exhaustion much longer, you passed out cold on the floor. Lady Lesso immediately called the spar off, her student could not kill before graduation and the very thought that she had just witnessed that honestly panicked her slightly. Crouched down by your head, ignoring the sharp pain in her right knee, she noticed your eyelids fluttering indicating life. You were coming back around. Thank the heavens above.

You were always disoriented when this would happen, memory hazy as you attempted to focus. The pain in your shoulder indicating that's where the impact of your fall was. You could've sworn your heart stopped beating when your gaze focused on the Dean. Shit! You scrambled to sit up only to find her hands gripping your shoulder preventing any rapid movements. "Slow down y/n, are you feeling okay?" She murmured to you hoping to keep the attention you received minimal. After the other students worked out you were in fact not dead their interest seemingly dwindled.  And you managed to bluff your way through using the sparring as a cover story. She bought it surprisingly, you couldn't help but be impressed that you had fooled the women.

The second time it happened you were not that lucky. No this time it had happened in the halls. You were making your way back to your dorm when it happened again. Your books tumbled from your hands slamming to the floor as you felt consciousness leave you. A blissful blackness enveloped you. Nothing to be seen or heard. Is this what death is like? Well unfortunately you weren't as lucky to find out. Consciousness began to flood throughout you once more, a disappointment lingering through your heart. Once again you were met with the worried irises of the Dean. Her hand slowly stroking at your clothed shoulder in a comforting repetitive moment.

You flinched away as though you were burned. You knew damn well that she would feel just how poignant they were. And by the look in her eyes you could tell, you were caught. And that is how you ended up in her office for a "discussion" about your adjustment to the school. At first you tried to deny everything, after all that's what she taught you. Say nothing. Hide it or they will stop you from becoming truly beautiful. To be worthy of love. But you could tell the Dean was seeing through your lies and becoming rather frustrated with the fact. That's what made you break.

You stood in her office, sobs wrecking through your weak body as you shook and eased yourself to the ground. Breaths coming out irregularly as your eyes were blurry due to the tears. You were curling up into yourself hugging your knees to your chest as you attempted to self soothe by rocking yourself gently. In that moment, Lesso was sure she'd never seen someone look so small and so broken. It shattered her heart. Which is why she found herself once again knelt in front of you despite the pain in her knee. "Little one?" She hummed out putting effort into making her tone seem more light and comforting than normal. When you moved your head up she was met with your tear soaked eyes. She had choose to keep her hands in your direct vision not knowing how you would respond to touch in this state.

It was then that you spilled everything. All the pain and hurt from the past. Every single thing she had done and said to you. It felt like a heavy weight being lifted off your chest. And she listened attentively to everything you disclosed, that automatically made telling her that much easier. You even told of her of the current relapse. When it started. What you do. What you feel and think. Just everything. And you could see you had shocked the Dean. She immediately put two and two together though as you knew she would.

"So that spar with Hester was this?" She questioned almost knowingly. When you nodded you heard her slight chuckle. "I did wonder, Y/n your more than capable of neutralising her gift. Why didn't you come to me little one? I could've tried to help" she mumbled picking up the courage to tilt your chin upwards with a slender finger. "Promise me, from now on to come to me, you're not broken my dove we will fix those beautiful wings of yours and you'll flourish" her tone of voice conveyed just how much faith she had in you and that honestly made your heart swell. "Now my little dove we are going to get you something to eat okay?" You eyes held the fear you were feeling which instantly had her adding "I will stay with you the whole time and even eat so you aren't eating alone little one, how does that sound?" You nodded knowing eating with someone always made you feel less self conscious about what's on your plate. Maybe just maybe you could be beautiful without this.  As if she read your thoughts Lesso took you by the hand and helped you up before catching your gaze and murmuring " you're beautiful dove no matter what or how much your eating beauty radiates from within."

Word count~ 1512

*Authors note~ so most of this is personal experience for me, I was diagnosed at 8 years old, after blacking out on a climbing frame and breaking both bones in my arm and even twisting them over eachother. I still relapse every now and then but I do have my tools and support system. So if this is something you struggle with please reach out to someone you trust. And remember that beauty truly is a concept and exterior beauty is different to the beauty of a kind soul*

[charlie-lec-stories]

Dirty Little Secret - Part 2: Guilt // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character

Series Summary: Charles' wife went to The Other Side and came back, but her past did too.

Chapter Summary: After going back home, Charles and Max notice that Y/N is acting strange, is it all PTSD or is there something else?

Series Warnings: Death, descriptions of CPR and a car crash, sexual comments and implied sexual acts, mentions of blood, mentions of suicide and depression.

Author’s Note: This is a special I decided to write inspired by Halloween and the Qatar GP, it's five parts long. It's the first time I write something for this page instead of editing thing I have written before, I hope you guys like it. Rate: +16 (descriptions of medical procedures).

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After two days at the hospital, Charles ended up not only taking his wife back home, but Max too. The Dutch lived alone and he was specifically told not to be unsupervised for at least a week. That's how Charles ended up back in Monaco, his wife sleeping on next to him and her best friend snoring in the guest room. Physically, they were both as good as one can be after a car accident, their bodies were sore, they had some cuts and bruises but nothing major. Max had passed out from heat exposure and dehydration, so once he was recovered from that, he was better, his legs took the worst part of the crash, they hurt a lot and had a lot of cuts covering them, three had to get stitches. He had some trouble walking and for his own safety Charles invited him to stay as long as he needed. Y/N got the worst part with the concussion, she ended up with some swelling and a lot of pain. The doctors did three MRI and everything seemed to be fine, nonetheless, no one could ignore the fact that she died, so she had to rest and be under extreme supervision. There were a few symptoms the doctors told Charles to stay alert to because they could indicate that late brain damage could be developing: black-outs, dizziness, nausea, disorientation, persistent headache, confusion, and worse, convulsions or seizures, sensory affections, slurred speech and severe episodes of loss of consciousness. Charles and Max agreed to keep an eye on her and make sure none of those symptoms were showing.

"Hey, good morning, mon amour. How are you feeling?". Charles kissed her nose when she stirred on the bed.

"Better". She simply answered and moved closed to him, hiding her face on his chest and sighing contently. He hugged her closer and stayed quiet for a moment. He wanted her to say more, but since the accident, she started talking less, always answering monosyllabically to everything he asked. She wasn't like that and it pained him to see her like this. The doctors told him that many patients of resuscitation suffered from depression, anxiety and some from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). He knew that he had to patient with her, and he will, because he loved her and he had her back, he wasn't losing her again.

"Do you want breakfast now or later?". He ran his hand up and down her back and he felt her relax against his body.

"Later".

"Okay, amour, later then". He felt her tense up again. "What is it?"

"Worried". Her word muffled by his chest.

"About what?". It was so hard for him to understand her sometimes since she answered giving so little information.

"Max". He kissed the top of her head.

"What about him?"

"Guilt". The wetness he felt in his chest was all the proof he needed to know she was crying.

"Don't worry, Max knows it wasn't his fault. It was FIA's and if he ever forgets that, we'll remind him. He's your best friend, he would never hurt you on purpose, he knows you know that".

"Okay".

An hour later Charles was in the kitchen making breakfast for the two convalescent drivers. Max was the first one to get up, walking to across the apartment with the help of his two crutches. He sat down at the kitchen table while Charles served him his breakfast. The monegasque was a terrible cook, but his childhood rival choose to ignore that and eat anyways, after all Charles was kind enough to let him stay at his home and cook for him. The truth is, even though they liked each other now, they didn't have a friendship and it was kind of awkward whenever Y/N wasn't there with them. For Charles there was something strange about Max's friendship with his wife, like they both shared this huge secret that Charles wasn't part of, which made things kind of uncomfortable. For Max was this guilt that stung at the depths of his chest for such secret, he was fully aware that Charles suspected something and all he could wish for was for the monegasque to never find out. Their time alone together was so weird, the atmosphere so charged with unspoken words that the air felt heavy, literally heavy. But there was also moments when they genuinely liked each other and Max was notoriously happy that his best friend married Charles.

"This is great, Charles. Thank you". Max lied through his teeth, praising the awful breakfast. Charles clicked his tongue, accepting the lie.

"You're welcome, mate". He placed two other plates at the table and then the mugs, sitting down and waiting for his wife to join them. "How are you feeling today? Is the pain any better?"

"Yeah, I think that the medication is working". Max took another sip of coffee. "But I think I'll feel a lot better once I finally get rid of this dreadful stitches. Can't stand them anymore".

"Give it time and keep them clean and you'll get rid of them before you know it". They both heard some muffled sounds coming from the main bedroom, Y/N getting up and ready for breakfast.

"How's she doing? Anything weird?". Max whispered at Charles, trying to find out how his friend was doing.

"She's fine". Charles answered on the same tone as Max and then continued. "She's worried about you. Maybe you two should talk".

"She's not speaking, mate. That's the problem". Max sighed. He really wanted to talk to his friend, but she wasn't doing any talking with him.

"I know, Max. Be patient with her. I know that she's not speaking, but just try. Okay?". Max nodded his head and then they heard the footsteps getting closer. "Morning, mon amour. Breakfast?". He asked once she was at the kitchen's doorway. She nodded and sat down, mumbling a soft 'morning', which Max mimicked.

"I need to get some things from my apartment". Max started after a few moments of silence. Charles looked up and Y/N just picked on her food. "I was thinking that maybe we all could go together and get some fresh air. What do you guys think?".

"I think that's a good idea". Charles instantly agreed. Y/N barely nodded her head. "Fresh air will do wonders for you two".

After Charles' horrendous lunch attempt and the take-out he brought to compensate that, they all changed out of their pijamas and started their long process to get down to the garage of the building. Between Max's difficulty to walk and Y/N not being allowed to be unsupervised, going out took time to do it right. After twenty minutes of Charles helping Max putting on his jeans and sneakers, while they both bickered at each other in the process, they were ready to go. Charles helped Max in the backseat, making sure that his legs were comfortably placed across the seat, then he watched Y/N get in the passenger's seat, always keeping an eye on her to see if she did alright on her own. Charles' Ferraris had little room for three people, so he ditched the sport cars and switched to a SUV for them all to have more space, specially Max. The drive to the Dutch's apartment was not long, but the traffic on Monte Carlo was pretty bad that day. They were at stop light when Charles felt his wife's breath change next to him. It became irregular and she looked pale, her eyes big and focused. Max felt the change too and Charles saw him sit straighter in the backseat through the rearview mirror.

"Everything alright, Bunny?". Max asked and Charles took her hand to try and calm her down. Her eyes were looking at the corner across the street, but Charles couldn't see anything that could have freaked her out like that. The light changed to green and Charles kept driving, Y/N following the corner until it was out of sight. She spent the rest of the drive looking at her lap, notoriously shaken up.

At the apartment Y/N seemed to have calmed down and Charles made the mental note not to take that street driving back home, she didn't need to be more stressed out after everything she went through. Max showed him the clothes he wanted to take to the Leclerc's household and they started packing everything up in a suitcase. Charles had been at Max's apartment a few times, but never in his room. It was everything Charles expected though: messy and full of Red Bull's merchandizing. There were a few pictures hanging off the walls, mostly from his childhood, he would have never guessed for Max to be the melancholy type, but he always knew that he was a family guy. He could see the young and cheerful face of his wife's teenage and child versions in some of the pictures, both her and Max posing with trophies and toothless smiles in some. He took the time to admire them while Max looked through his closet and Y/N waited in the living room, relaxing on the couch. He noticed that there were a few familiar faces, like Alex, George and Pierre, he himself was even, in one picture. Fate had made it impossible for Charles and Y/N to cross paths when they were kids, but there was a girl in the pictures that he remembered from a few races when he was kid. He didn't remember the girl's name but he remembered her helmet, pink with a dog's paw draw on it, it was a peculiar helmet, that's why he remembered it.

"I remember this girl". Charles said out loud, Max just hummed without looking at him. "I can't remember her name...".

"Which one?" Max asked, still not looking at Charles.

"The one here with you and Y/N, with the pink helmet". Charles was met with silence, the sound of Max moving things inside his closet no longer in the air. He waited and waited, but Max never spoke up.

"She's a Dutch driver". Max said after a while and before Charles could ask more about her, Max continued. "I have everything I need. Let's go". The blond grabbed his crutches faster than the speed of light and limped out of the room like his life depended on it. Charles stayed behind, frowning at the door of the room, his mind racing with thoughts. He knew that Max and Y/N childhood was a sensitive topic, but he didn't expected to be that sensitive. With one last look at the picture, he walked out of the room.

Max's mood didn't get better after that. He asked to go back to Charles and Y/N's apartment right away, even though he was the one that suggested they went out in the first place. Once back at the apartment, Max went to his room and stayed there till the next day, not even coming out for dinner. In the morning, the Dutch acted as if nothing happened and Charles decided not to bring back the topic again. After a week, Max was getting better, his stitches healing great, but Y/N was getting worse. Every day she would get scared looking at literally nothing and Charles and Max started to suspect that she was hallucinating. They constantly asked her what was wrong, but she always dismissed their worries. 'Nothing', she would say every time and even thought they didn't believe her, she refused to tell them what had her so frightened. Charles knew that she had mandatory therapy and hoped that she was at least telling her therapist what was happening inside her head. Worried about his wife, Charles called her parents back in Netherlands and told them everything.

"She gets so scared out of nowhere, Mr. Y/L/N". Charles explained to his father in law. The older man hummed at the other end.

"Did you tell that to the doctor?". Charles sighed.

"Max and I believe that she could be hallucinating, but since she denies it, I'm not sure what to do. I can't force her to go to the doctor if she insist that there's nothing wrong". The older man hummed again. "Maybe she needs to go back home and spend some time with you two. Maybe I can take her there and we can stay for a few days".

"She doesn't like it here, never comes back when she feels alright, not gonna come home feeling unwell, Charles. But maybe we can go to Monaco". Charles found that strange, she went back every year.

"What do you mean? She goes back with Max every year on summer break". He heard the man scoff.

"Here? It's been years since she last came home". The silence that followed was so thick that it could almost be touched. "Charles, are you messing with me boy?"

"I think I need to talk to my wife, Mr. Y/L/N. I'll talk to you soon. Take care". Charles didn't even give the other time to say goodbye before he quickly hung up.

What the hell was his wife doing with Max then? Was she cheating on him? He never expected her to do something like that. He was sure that they had a sick friend or something when they told him that they were visiting an old friend, but now he didn't know what to think. She always told him that they stayed in her childhood home but now it turns out that they weren't? He never talked to his in-laws unless it was necessary, he didn't had a bad relationship with them, but he wasn't close either. He never thought about bringing up those trips to them, not wanting to talk bout such a delicate topic while they were having a nice time. Maybe he should have. He respected Y/N's privacy and it turns out that she was lying to him. He heard the living room TV from the bedroom, knowing that the movie Max and Y/N were watching was still on. He let Max in his home, gave him a bed, cooked for him and he had been screwing his wife behind his back all these years? He felt so betrayed that he could break something, probably Max's legs but before he could actually decide what he wanted to do, he heard his wife's scream like she was right next to him. He forgot about everything he was mad about once he set foot in the living room. She was sitting in a corner, crying her eyes out, while Max did the best he could to limp towards her.

"What happened?". Charles asked, Max looked at him panicked.

"I don't know! She just screamed and ran to the corner". Charles walked to Y/N, curled up with her face hidden on her knees.

"Y/N, what's wrong?". He tried to speak as softly as he could, not wanting to scare her more than she already was.

"I'm sorry". She mumbled between sobs. "I am so, so sorry. Please, forgive me!". She said louder this time, rocking back and forth.

"We'll get though this". Charles told her, not even knowing he could be so forgiving, for fuck's sake, she shamelessly cheated on him for years. She looked up, but instead of looking at him, she looked past Max, to the other side of the living room.

"I'm so sorry, Maud!". She cried. "Please, please, please!". Charles frowned, she wasn't speaking to him, she wasn't speaking to Max. Who the hell was Maud? There was no one else there. He looked back at Max and saw him pale, his eyes with a hint of hurt as they got glossy with tears. He had never seen Max cry before.

"Max, what is she talking about? Who's Maud?". But Max didn't answer him, he kept looking at Y/N, not moving a muscle as the tears kept falling down his face. "Max, answer me!"

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Second part is here! I hope I can finish this before Halloween.

[blackypanther9]

Damage that is hard to see – Loki x Teenage!Reader

Summary: There are things that exist, but we don't see. For example, we are not in another person's body to know if they are lying or not about their issues. Tony Stark never believed his adoptive daughter about her bodily issues. He never tried to understand, but Loki did. What the hell is going on with Destiny (Reader) ?

WARNING!: Trauma, mention of kidnapping, mention of bullying, mention of abuse in all three ways (Physical, mental and emotional), mention of disorders, self harm AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED ! (This time I didn’t specify anything so it is still safe to read.)

Her name was Destiny Stark. Tony Stark’s daughter. All the Avengers were out, until one. Loki Laufeyson.

She was slightly scared of him. She saw how he acted so cold sometimes and so mean. He was never mean to her, but that was because she ran away from him most of the time. Her Father gave him the Duty to bring her to school.

School… A thing she was not fond of for many reasons.

Her Father didn’t know, but teachers and classmates bully her on a daily basis and she has gotten bodily issues since second grade. She didn’t tell her Father much of it, only when it got really bad she told him she felt sick. But to be honest, she always felt sick as soon as she woke up and had to attend to school.

As she landed in fifth grade with different classmates and teachers, was where everything got worse and it is still just as bad and she is in eighth class now. She told her Father only once or twice about it. The first time he ran with her to the doctors who said she was only imagining it and making stuff up and the second time he didn’t believe her at all.

She stopped telling him anything and if she refused strongly to go to school, she stayed home. JARVIS nor Tony could get into her room if she strongly refused to go. They had no other choices.

But now her Father was gone and Loki was her…caretaker. Today was a day where she strongly refused.

“Destiny get ready for school. You are going. If you like it or not.”, Loki said coldly.

“GO AWAY ! LEAVE ME ALONE !”, she yelled, tears near.

She held her knees tightly to herself, while dry gagging badly. She at first tried to cover her mouth with her hands, but it was fruitless, she only gagged harder. Nothing came out, because she didn’t eat nor drink anything and it was mostly silent, but she knew she couldn’t go today. It would only get worse the closer she got to school.

Suddenly he was in her room and she didn’t even notice him. He only stared at her as he saw her dry gagging horribly.

“Stop pretending to be sick.”, he growled.

Destiny had no time to shriek or even yell, because just then came a very aggressive gag up her throat. Her eyes widened and she ran to the toilet and suddenly she vomited. Out of her didn’t come much, but stomach acid.

‘No, no, no ! Stop ! Stop, please ! Stop ! Why won’t you stop ?!’

Another aggressive gag and she again puked out acid. Loki came into the bathroom and looked into the toilet. He knew then that she wasn’t pretending. He put his hand on her head and invaded her mind.

‘Stop, stop, stop ! Please stop ! No more ! It hurts ! I didn’t eat and drink anything ! Stop gagging and vomiting ! It won’t save you from school anyways ! He will drag you to Hell ! He doesn’t care, no one does ! No one understands ! Why can’t anyone understand and help me ?!’

Loki instantly left her mind and looked at her.

“It happened more than once, didn’t it ? The vomiting, the gagging… How long, Destiny ?”, Loki asked.

“S-since-“

She again gagged and vomited.

“S-second grade…am eighth now…”, she breathed out heavily.

“Does your Father know ?”

“Doesn’t believe me…”

Again she gagged and vomited stomach acid. She started to cry.

It was humiliating, painful and disgusting. She flushed the toilet but stayed over it with her head, not moving.

“Let us go to a doctor.”

“No !”, she yelled and sobbed harder.

“Why not ? This seems serious.”

“They will say that I imagine it again or something. They did it the first time and the second time my Father didn’t even believe me anymore…”, she croaked out.

Loki stared at her. This was serious.

“Why do they not believe you ?”

“Because as soon as I am somewhere else and don’t go to school this stops ! I don’t know what’s wrong with me ! I can’t stop it either ! It’s just there !”

“Why do you think it started ?”

“I don’t know. Maybe my subconsciousness just set it in as a defense mechanism.”

“For what ?”

“School… I have bullies in school. I have been bullied since first grade, just because I asked a boy to be friends. My own class teacher bullied me, others were mean and never helped me when she bullied me and the rest of my class then did the same, with also physical actions. They threw me in dirt and disabled me to catch myself on my hands or feet, making me fall on my chest and face.”

Loki just stared at her in horror and shock.

“Most of them were boys, some of them were girls and others just looked away when it happened. I had no one to turn to. I told my Mom a few times and she tried to stop it, but it just got worse. No one did anything. Then I was set back from third grade to second and I was in a decent class and got friends, but I already had these issues. They already started and I fought against them for almost two years. I was sick a lot and missing school stuff, but I TRIED.”

The God of Mischief clenched his fists. This was Tony Stark’s daughter and Tony just didn’t believe her and never tried to get to the roots of this issue ! What kind of Father is that ?! This doesn’t sound like a physical illness, it sounds like a mental one !

“At fifth grade it got worse. The class changed and the school too. So new classmates and new teachers. I was excited, my body wasn’t but I went anyway. More mature people like me, you know ? But I was wrong. They were worse. They threw insults at everything you did, insulted your looks, hurt you physically whenever they could…Most teachers looked away. And I had three to four teachers who mentally tormented me. They mocked me for barely being in school and whenever I was badly hurt, they refused to sent me home. I had some accidents in PE that required of me going home and they just didn’t care. I don’t wanna go there anymore ! I don’t feel safe !”

Loki saw her crying and he pulled her into a hug. He wasn’t a fan of hugging anyone, but she really needed one right now.

“Have you ever thought of going to a…what do you call these people you talk to and feel mostly better again ?...Psychologist ?”

Destiny shook her head wildly.

“Dad would think I’ve gone mental ! Like I would be a criminal or a killer suddenly and needed someone to talk to !”

“Child…this is a mental issue. You got mentally and emotionally scarred. That is why your body does what it does.”

“But it really isn’t that much of a big deal !”, Destiny protested.

“Kid, I know that you are adopted. Tony got custody of you as soon as your Mother died. Tell me everything. What else happened ?”

“Well…when I was younger, before Ma died and Tony adopted me…my biological Father also tormented us. He had no rights to see me and I never wanted to see him again either. He always came to our home and rang the bell like a mad man, demanding to see me. He was very…aggressive. I was scared of him. He was abusive to Mom and me too, before they parted. Tony was Mama’s best friend. He agreed to take me if something ever happens to her.”

So there WAS more to this. Loki parted from her.

“There was an incident where he even tried to kidnap me. But no one did anything besides give him a warning when we reported it. I was sometimes physically in school, but not mentally, which they all thought was funny to torment further.”, Destiny said.

“Did Stark know ?”

“Mom told him everything. He thinks I am safe here. But I am not. He doesn’t even believe me. I see him as my Dad, don’t get me wrong ! He was always there for me and the first good Father figure I ever had, but…he doesn’t make me feel safe by forcing me to go through this torture over and over again. Heck, I can’t even tell if I am really sick or if it just is this shit again !”, she yelled and pulled on her hair.

Destiny was in a lot of stress and Tony didn’t seem to know any of it.

“It also doesn’t help that it seems like I am the ONLY person on this world who suffers with this ! There is no cure ! I don’t know what to do ! I just know that my body is feeling wrong !”

Loki grabbed her hands and gently pulled them away from her hair. Poor thing was going to rip them out.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten ?”, Loki asked.

“Not long. I ate yesterday Dinner. Because of all the gagging and vomiting I stopped eating Breakfast. For a while it worked and I was fine, but at fifth class everything got worse, more frequent and more aggressive.”

“So you eat normally ?”

“Yes.”

“Do you harm yourself ?”

“No.”

“Are you sure ?”

“I mean I don’t cut myself or anything, but…is it self destructive behavior when you pull your own eyelashes and eyebrows out ?”

Loki stared at Destiny.

“JARVIS ?”

“It can mean various things such as anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), or trichotillomania. It is a mental disorder. And despite of wanting to stop, you can’t.”

“Fuck…”, Loki cursed.

“What are all these categories supposed to do ? I know what anxiety is, but the other two ?”, Destiny asked.

“Trichotillomania, also called hair-pulling disorder, is a mental disorder that involves recurrent, irresistible urges to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows or other areas of your body, despite trying to stop.”

Destiny stared into space.

“Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) is a common, chronic, and long-lasting disorder in which a person has uncontrollable, reoccurring thoughts ("obsessions") and/or behaviors ("compulsions") that he or she feels the urge to repeat over and over.”

‘This is getting serious…’, Loki thought.

Destiny teared up.

“So I am a mental case… The exact thing I never wanted to be…”

“We can’t decide such things, kid. Now let me give your Father a call.”

Destiny stared at him in fear. She didn’t want Tony to know !

“If I won’t tell him, it will only get worse. You could start pulling out your own bodily hair. You were about to rip your own hair from your scalp just a second ago. It isn’t getting better and Stark puts you under a lot of stress, which will cause you to further harm yourself.”, Loki explained.

Destiny only nodded and looked away. No going back now.

“JARVIS, call Stark and tell him it is about his daughter. It is an emergency, so he better picks up.”, Loki said.

“On it, Mr. Laufeyson.”

The TV turned on and there was the phone beeping and Tony’s profile picture. After three rings Tony picked up.

“What is it with her ? Again her pretending ?”, Tony asked slightly annoyed.

Destiny whimpered softly and Loki glared at the TV.

“Did you know that your daughter is mentally unwell ?”, Loki hissed.

There was silence on the other side for a long while.

“What ?”, he asked with shock.

“She is mentally and emotionally damaged and has mental disorders. The doctors didn’t find anything because it is a mental case, you dimwit ! She didn’t make anything up, she is mentally unwell !”, Loki yelled.

“But how ? I always take care of her and make sure that she is fine !”

“Stark you are the most stupid man in the world ! Destiny gets bullied in school and no one does anything ! She doesn’t say anything because in the past no one did anything anyways and the abuse got worse ! Then top that with a cherry that her biological Father also mentally and emotionally scarred her ! Her bodily issues are REAL, but it is MENTAL. She also has the urge to pull her own eyebrows and eyelashes out and her own damn hair ! She could have Trichotillomania for all I know ! It is a mental disorder that gives you the urge to pull your hair out anywhere ! She HARMS herself !”

The other line was dead silent.

With Stark…

He was with the rest of the Avengers. They just finished the mission and were on their way home. He turned on the speaker so everyone could hear Loki and they were in utter shock and horror.

Tony was in shock the most. He had no idea that Destiny was mentally and emotionally scarred enough to cause herself harm. He always thought that she will stay that way and everything is fine, but it wasn’t. He suddenly realized how much stress and sorrow he put her under. He covered his mouth and tears fell. Just what had he done ?

“We’ll be home in a little bit. Keep her home. I’ll be there soon.”, Tony said and then hung up.

“Tony…”

“No ! I have to go NOW !”

Tony went into his Iron Man suit and then jumped out of the jet, blasting off and dashing back home. He should have known…

With Destiny and Loki…

Destiny was very scared now.

“He will yell at me…”, she whimpered.

Loki turned to her.

“He won’t.”, Loki replied.

“He will ! He always does when he does that !”, she yelled.

She gripped her hair again and started to pull on it. Loki rushed over, but it was too late this time. She pulled and had a few chunks of hair in her hand.

“He always does ! He always does ! He’ll yell ! He’ll yell !”, she screamed.

Loki held her hands and made her look at him.

“He won’t.”, he assured her calmly.

“Trust me. He won’t yell at you. I won’t allow it.”

“I’M SORRY ! I’m such a lost cause !”, Destiny yelled, sobbing.

Loki pulled her close to himself.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Calm down. Nothing bad will happen.”

Then the doors opened and Tony came running in.

“Loki, where is she ?!”, he yelled at him.

“You better lower your voice this instant, Stark. She is already in a blind panic.”, Loki hissed.

Tony looked at him and then saw his daughter clinging to Loki with fear. She stared at him with fear. Tony felt horrible. Of course…he yelled at her a lot when she started to act up again.

“Dest, I’m not going to yell at you. Tell me what you want me to do.”, Tony told her calmly.

She didn’t say anything, just sobbed and clung to Loki.

“I want you to make it all stop. I don’t want to be a mental case !”, she yelled.

Tony stared at her in worry and guilt.

“How long has this been going on ?”, Tony asked.

“Since fifth grade.”, she said.

“So the eyebrows are just drawn on and the eyelashes are fake ?”

She nodded.

“Show me.”, he said softly.

Destiny shook her head wildly.

“NO !”

“Hey, hey…it’s okay. I just want to see how bad it already got, Dest. I will not yell.”, Tony soothed.

Loki summoned a cloth for her to wipe away the drawn on eyebrows and to remove the fake eyelashes. She hesitated, but then took it and wiped it all away and took off the eyelashes. Tony was in horror and Loki was speechless from shock.

There was almost NOTHING left of any of these two important things ! Then Tony noticed the two chunks of pulled hair on the floor.

“Loki tell me this is YOUR hair.”, Tony said in worry.

“I was too late to stop her from pulling her hair out.”, Loki softly informed.

Tony covered his mouth in shock. Destiny started to panic, thinking he will yell now. She started to cry.

“I’M SORRY !”, she screamed.

Loki quickly hugged her and she hid her face in his stomach, crying without an end in near sight.

“I had no idea…”, Tony mumbled.

“Nor did I. I just asked her and got to the roots of this whole issue.”

The whole day was spent on Destiny to calm her down and sooth her. Tony made appointments by doctors and a psychologist. Let us all hope it can help her in some way.

End ?

MASTERLIST HERE !

[marco--the--phoenix]

I deleted my old vent blog. But I gotta gwt this out.

Tw: depression - eating disorder- personal - mental health - suicide - financial issues - chronic illness

For 5 years we have lived on bare minimum. Sometimes we can do the odd nice thing here or there but it'll drain us.

Every month is a making ends meet kinda month and sometimes we go without very often.

One meal a day, I go without phone service or unable to leave the house.

It's not even our fault. Wife works full time, I can't work due to both mental and physical health.

I am so unbelievablely grateful to friends who help us out when there's a struggle but I feel so bad every time.

I'm almost 40 and I don't have the means to look after myself. I'm not the worst off person in the world but I'm fucming struggling.

I had an ED that almost killed me many years ago and it permanently crashed my body. I have a dangerous autoimmune disease that's almost killed me once already.

It's agony, my joints lock up, I've been paralysed in pain by arthritis brought on by it. My skin hurts and aches and burns all the time.

I can barely move. I ooze and feel gross and stick to things and feel ugly and gross and vile

My mental health is bad despite being medicated. My adhd is wild and the two have caused me to loose all momentum in myife. I was once in control and on top of everything and now I'm drowning.

I try not to vent to people. So used to being punished for venting rhat I'm terrified if people saw the real deph of what I'm feeling I'd loose them.

I'm sick of money lasting a second. We do like ONE nice thing a month together and even then it's far from wild or much money. We treat ourselves to a little something but like.. a £5 sketch from a friend or a third store shirt for £7 but cus we are so broke all the time and need help it feels shitty to do.

It's bad, all the time.

This month I already have £70 left to live and I've not paid for my phone yet. That 70 I'd for food, travel, anything.

We had to use money we saved for my birthday in March and their upcoming birthday just to make it to the end of every month.

We don't have family or a support network where we live.

I know staying at home doesn't seem like a big deal but reason I made a habit of going with wife to their place of work was because of me not being safe.

We've both worked hard, really hard to start out stores and try sell but it's very disheartening that despite all the effort and hard work no ones biting.

I'm so scared of being a burden to people that I clam up. I've pulled away so much from people already that I'm worried I'm not good enough any more for them.

It's all jealous icky arlf doubting feelings drowning me but I'm tired.

I started chemotherapy again for my illness but had to come off for antibiotics for an ear infection.

Chemotherapy makes me feel sick, tired, awful and without it my body attacks itself.

We are trying to go on a trip this June. Just to another city and we put money we couldn't afford towards it but I for one need a break, need something nice to look forward to, something to keep me fucking going.

I don't want to die, I just want life to be better but I've been strong all my life and I'm so weak these days cus I can't find mental or psychical strength.

I try hard to be there for others, be a good person, look on the bright side but I'm so so fucking exhausted.

I've waited years after year for things to get better. I'm not a negative person I've just been beat over the head so many times.

I'm finally letting myself cry and crumble but I'm close to breaking.

I wish I didn't feel guilty or selfish or bad for having these feelings but I do and I implode.

I just wish it was all easier.

I hope people who read this don't change their view on me or ditch me. I'm so tired and scared and hurting.

I also didn't make this post to beg for money but if there is anyone out there who could just help a little it really does help.

My P @ y p@l is corazon_x_law@yahoo.co.uk (op people it's not a ship. This was back when x didn't mean a ship dhdhdbdhd)

Or my kofi is https://ko-fi.com/cyborgfranky

It's 5am and I sat crying on the toilet like a loser.

I feel better for screaming here but.. damn.

[donniesexceptionalmind]

Hi, sorry it’s me again. I don’t remember what I wanted to be called. I think it was D. Anyways, I think I was afraid to talk to you for a little bit because of something I said. And now that it’s online, and connected to something YOU said, I think I would feel stupid deleting it. I just- I feel a bit shitty. I feel like I’ve gotten so many things wrong and I just feel bad right now.

My forearm feels like it’s going to fall off; like this aweful pain where it’s just aching and moving it hurts (I probably shouldn’t be typing rn). Uhm, I also wanted to discuss foods. My family teases me a bit because sometimes I will like certain foods and other times I won’t. Like, I used to like avocado, but now I can’t stand eating it. Same with yogurt and apple sauce. I’m a bit iffy with bananas, and mushrooms I hate. But I like a lot of other food so my parents get confused when I don’t eat certain things.

Btw, if you figure out who I am, (you probably will soon) just feel free to dm me :)

-D

Greetings, D.!

Indeed, it has been some time since I've heard last from you. If I connect the dots correctly, I know which 'things' you mean & I know who you are. ;)

(You are referring to the headcanons about me & touch, am I correct?)

You are still feeling unwell about getting things wrong? Please don't! There is no logical reason for it!

Don't be afraid of talking to me either, I am by no means mad at you! I never were.

About the mentioned food topic:

I understand you! I'm glad Mikey just lets me do my own thing, which makes me feel safe in my own bubble. I'm still grieving the loss of yoghurt & I do hope it will come back eventually.

Many neurotypical people don't understand our food sensitivities because they don't have these heightened senses.

Many people don't understand the impact some eating disorders can have as well.

(There are also hyposensitive neurodivergents who have trouble getting information about their sensory systems who seek out flavours, textures & other input. The sensitivity can also change over time, so it's not static at all!)

Let your parents be confused, as long as they don't pressure you into eating the foods you can't eat, everything should be fine. There's a variety of foods you can choose to get your nutrients from! (Tells the turtle who eats the same three things every day /ironic)

If they can't understand, they should at least try to accept it.

I hope your arm heals soon!

[panuccispizza]

suffered and suffering from an incredible era of depression this year. here's my collected advice from 2023

- never smoke cigarettes and never vape. do not allow that into your life. you will only have one set of lungs, one trachea, and one immune system. there will never be another. take care of your physical body.

- substances will never make anything better, it numbs or distracts the present by letting you avoid the past. your future comes whether you want it to or not. substance abuse has only allowed my present to become my past and I have done nothing for my future. work on your future. every plan. everything. just fucking do it.

- no one should be allowed you 24/7, it's ok not to reply to people for hours. but make sure you do reply to them. do not let the messages pile up and do not wait more than 2 days.

- make friends. keep friends. water and nourish your friendships and relationships. you can be friends with people from work or school or whoever you meet. do not allow your fellow man to be a stranger, not everyone is here to hurt you and you are hurting no one by being nice. be yourself and love people

- journal. workout, yoga, exercise, dance, move your body repetitively in some way for a little while. drink water, get sunlight, spend 15 minutes outside every single fucking day, I don't care about your individualized situation where your allergic to the smell of fresh cut dandelions. stop being annoying online and treat your mental disorders. expose yourself to betterment. you can live in better.

- literally just talk to people about your needs no one knows what's wrong with you. no one will see that you are hurting when you purposely try to act like you're fine.

- do what makes you happy. algorithm is fake and trying to work with it will only cause you pain. you will never flourish. your audience means nothing when you purposely make content for them, and you may as well be buying followers or likes. do whatever you want to, within moral reason.

- it's ok if you don't want someone in your life. it's ok if you feel like someone has fucked up and you don't want that. it hurts to remove them, but to keep toxic or uncomfortable people in your life won't make your situation with them any better. rip the bandaid.

- reliving PTSD flashbacks looks like something completely different than what you think it does. maybe this is my own individual problem. I did not know what I was reliving for so much of my life has always been a flashback. since identifying them, I've been able to avoid them and avoid triggers.

- if you have autism then just be autistic. its embarrassing to unmask but you have to do it to live /your/ life. not the life you want people to perceive. you're not a character, you're not written, you're alive and human and complex. you will fuck up some times and it will be hard a lot of the time but literally allow yourself to rest. you will have bigger problems in the future if you allow the anxiety to stay in your body

- there is a solid part of life that does not change easily and there is a soft part of life that does. you're actions, while soft, will solidify. this is forming habits and routines. the solid part of your life will rot away if you do not support it with the soft. sometimes the hard is difficult to change because you live with other people present in the same world. do what you can, there is no changing them. they also have solid and soft parts of their life they need to work on as well.

- expand your knowledge. if you're solely a digital artist then pick up a new medium. if you solely write short fics then write a longer one, or a novel. read books. read physical literal books from your public library. learn about the environment around you. go to museums and national & state parks. visit towns you normally don't. visit shops. look for things outside your interests. learn about cultures outside your own. learn a language. if you do not know where to start, make a short list of things and roll dice to figure out what wikipedia-youtube rabbithole you need to go down.

love yourself.

[myriadeyed]

Long, winding post about the exchange of life lessons between Tetri and me

What Tetri has taught me:

Slow down. When I'm walking outside, I tend to end up walking very fast no matter how slow I started out. But I have a nerve disease and chronic pain and when I walk too fast my limbs start to hurt. I also have a lung disorder and start struggling to breathe deep enough. So when he notices me walking too fast, wincing and gasping, and sometimes I don't even notice it, he tells me to slow down. ("You'll get to where you're going anyways, and your body won't hate you for it. It's not just about literally walking. It's about everything. 'Slowing down' is also sleeping when you need to, and taking breaks from work, and when you're in nature or engaging with art, actually taking it in instead of going as fast as possible to get all of it. Savor your food. And all that.")

Digital self-harm is real self-harm. This used to be my biggest bad habit. Tetri was the one who trained me out of it and was the "voice in my head" who told, no, don't open that comment thread, don't look in that tag, don't watch that video, don't read that article, don't engage with this person and get in a fight that won't be satisfying and will just leave you feeling frustrated and disgusted with yourself. Just move on and actually get something positive out of being online like being part of a community you actually enjoy and talking to friends you appreciate the company of. "Scroll a tag you actually find interesting." Lmao.

Check the time. Another one of my bad habits that I didn't even realize was a habit, let alone a bad one, until Tetri told me so. When I'm in a situation I don't want to be, specifically a long one, like work, school, a lecture, a meeting, whatever, anything that has a determined end time, I am "time pessimistic." I check the clock once, and then for next long while, I think of the time as whatever time it was when I looked, and refuse to look at the clock again. As in, I'll look at the clock, see 5 pm, and even hours later I'll think "Well last I looked it said 5 pm, so I still have seven hours to go." I did this because I didn't want to be "disappointed" when I actually looked at the clock and it was earlier than my prediction. Tetri told me this: "Don't make a prediction at all. Don't make estimates about what time it is. You don't know the time until you look. If you look at the clock and it says 6 pm, you now know that you have six hours to go, and you are prepared for six hours, not eight or seven or five." If you can't do optimism, you be a realist.

What I have taught Tetri:

Oxygen mask. He puts others before himself, very instinctually. It's second nature to him, but he will ignore his own needs way too much for the sake of me and often the other headmates. He has a bad habit -- and often he doesn't even realize he's doing it -- where he seems to "absorb" my negative emotions like a sponge, which means I feel calmer but he feels worse. I've started pointing this out to him and getting him to stop. I've also started comforting him when he feels bad. I think the first few times I was his shoulder to cry on instead of the other way around opened his mind to the concept that you must put your own oxygen mask on first before you can help others. And that he needs to breathe air just as much as any of us.

Catharsis is just as effective as comfort. He's very different about this now than he used to be. For the first while, he only liked happy TV shows, he only wanted to read positive fluffy books, and he refused to listen to "depressing" music. Comfort is the OS his mind runs on. He is very, very good at it when he's doing it for other people, but it was a limitation of his that he avoided the negative emotions in himself. Sharing my favorite things with him -- horror movies and games, gothic literature, Trevor Henderson, Porcupine Tree, Franz Kafka, Ray Bradbury -- has lead him to same conclusion I'm at: sometimes you need to feel uncomfortable for the long-term mental benefit, you need to face the ugliness of reality just as much as its beauty.

You are an individual. Dæmonism at its core is a relationship between two people, and just like any other relationship between two people, it must be give and take, it cannot be only give. He doesn't like to call it low self-esteem, and I suppose he's accurate about that, but he had issue seeing himself as a fully fledged person with his own wants and needs and beliefs. Which is what he is -- I understand it would be normal for many people's dæmons to be correct about that, but we work differently, and he sees that now. He's a part of me, but he's not just a part. He's a member of a team. (How he puts it when I asked him to weigh in: "I extend from [Swift], I'm a traditional dæmon and I'm a manifestation of [his] 'soul' or whatever we're going to end up calling it, but I'm also a traditional dæmon in how I function independently and make my own decisions. Yeah. Being very traditional, we differ from most dæmian pairs in both of those ways.")

[achy-boo]

I've Got You

Summary: Life is a roller coaster. We had all our ups and downs. Sometimes life is just too much for us to bear on our shoulders. You feel like you had nobody on your side. Do not worry, even though life is tough. There is someone by your side and they care about your more then you think.

Oc used: Hyun Lamaya Keket

Gn!reader with you/your pronouns

Prompt: I've Got You

Word Count: 1,035 words

AN: I actually made myself cry while writing this..

Used for?: A Writers Event

Warning: hurt/comfort, mentions of harsh words from other people, mentions of bullying, Hyun being a sweetheart and a bit mean, mentions of wanting to end it all(sucided), cursing

Recommended listening: Goodbye by Circus-P ft Hatsune Miku + Never Too Late by Three Days Grace

What is life without someone on your side?

That is your question every day. You have dealt with a lot throughout the years in your life. But this is the worst of the worst. The harsh words of your fellow peers, the bullying and the stress of your daily school really put a toll on your mental health. You were so stressed that you never noticed that some people were trying to talk to you. They were so worried about your well-being but you simply told them you are okay. You are fine..but are you okay? Are you fine? The answer is all over your face. No. You are not okay. You are not fine. Everything takes a toll on you. You are stressed. You are tired. You are so hurt by the harsh words of your bullies that you just wanted to end it all…end it once for all. But little did you know, there is someone observing you. Observing your every move and words. 

Hyun Lamaya Keket, the boy with a few words. The boy who prefers to stand in the background and just observe his surroundings. His purple eyes watch you every time you enter the school. He had seen it all. The harsh words towards you, the bullying and how you pretend that you are okay but he knows damn well you are not okay. You are in pain. And he can see it..he is no fool. He has heard the distressed words from the staff about you, the malicious words of his fellow peers. Words that are despicable..so..vile that nearly make Hyun see red and attack his fellow peers but he didn’t. So he decided to follow you. Since Hyun shares the same classes as you, it is effortless for him to recognize your schedule. Hyun follows you everywhere in the school but you never noticed him. You were too focused on not trying to let those thoughts win. Hyun is starting to get worried as he notices that your aura is slowly turning gray..a sign of depression. Depression is not something that can be taken as a joke or a phrase. It is a serious mental disorder that Hyun knows all too well. How? Because Hyun has depression but he never let it bother him. As he followed you, his peers tried to call out to him but he just ignored them as his main focus is you and your deteriorating mental health. Hyun’s purple eyes widened when he saw you going to the roof of the school. ‘You weren’t planning to..I got to stop this.’ Hyun thought as he sprinted towards the roof. He can not let you die..not on his watch. He will be damned. 

The roof..a place where students go there for lunch, talk, to be by themselves. There are many reasons why the roof of the school is a pretty popular hang out spot but for you..it is where you say goodbye to the world as you had enough. Enough with the malicious words of your peers, the bullying, the stress of the school and life in general. You slowly take off your bag and shoes and stand on the railing. You look up at the sky as you think to yourself how life is so cruel to someone like you. Someone who is trying to survive the school year. As you close your eyes and plan to fall to your death, a hand firmly and gently grabs your arm and pulls you away from the railing into a strong chest. You were shocked. Who tried to stop you from gaining your eternal peace? Who tried to stop you from saying goodbye to the world? But the most important question…Who is the person? “You have to be..respectfully..the stupidest person I know.” A familiar voice says in his deep and husky tone. Your eyes widened in pure awe. “H-Hyun?” You called out as he replied. “In the flesh.”

You sit up as Hyun pulls you towards him with enough force to fall on the ground. You look down at Hyun who looks up at you. His blonde hair covered his purple eyes which he moved so his right eye looked at you. “Why?” You asked him as your voice cracked. “Why did you save me? Why did you stop me gaining that eternal peace, Hyun? Why? Why? WHY?!” You shouted at Hyun who only just stared at you until he spoke. “Because I care about you.” Hyun started. “I save you because I care about you. I save you because you need someone to look after you. I save you because life is a bitch towards all of us. But seeing you trying to end your life because those words from those vile peers of ours is what pissed me off. I will not let you die. I will not let you say goodbye to this cruel world. I will not allow it. I.Will.Be.DAMNED.” Hyun’s words left you speechless. You always thought nobody cares about you…that everyone will be happy if you died but Hyun proved you wrong. And prove you wrong indeed as he saves your life. “If you want to vent out your feelings. If you want to scream, yell or whatever. COME to me! You are not alone in this world. You have me. So for the love of anything holy and unholy, DO NOT think that nobody cares about you. Because I will prove you wrong every..fucking..time.” You just laid your head on Hyun’s chest as the said male is taller than you. You were tearing up and you tried not to cry but when Hyun wrapped his arms around you and spoke those words: ‘It is okay to cry’ you just broke down in tears, crying all of your bottled up feelings out as Hyun just stared at the blue cloudy sky. “I am here for you, my little flower..I’m here for you.” He spoke as he started to cry too but he was silent about it. 

“I’ve got you my flower. I’ve got you..You have one life..so never ever waste it.”

(This support belongs to @benkeibear )

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: hold the bright moon in my arms, ch. 4

Relationships: Niè Huáisāng & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Niè Huáisāng, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Original Characters, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī

Additional Tags: Pining, Feelings Realization, Illnesses, ennui, Found Family, Porn Reading, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulative Niè Huáisāng, Memories, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Needs a Hug, Post-Canon, Pining Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Friendship, Niè Huáisāng Is A Little Shit, POV Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, POV Third Person, Qi Deviation, Resentful Energy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Triggers, Fainting, Anal Sex, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Grief/Mourning

Summary: Wei Wuxian must face Lan Wangji.

Notes: see end

First fic

1-2 | 3

AO3 link

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Wei Wuxian woke slowly to the sound of guqin music, played in that refined way he would always recognize as Lan Zhan’s style, and he let himself drift on the music for a while, a song of clarity powered with Lan Zhan’s qi, gently bolstering his own to promote calm and healing.

It was a strange parallel to how he woke in the Cloud Recesses after his resurrection, his mask removed while he was unconscious, but Lan Zhan’s playing then had been different, more hesitant, and he knew now how their miscommunication had harmed him. He could remember how disheveled Lan Zhan had been then, and knowing the reason now made his heart ache, that he had caused him so much grief.

“I think he’s awake,” came a too-loud whisper, definitely Jingyi, and the teen’s presence would make him smile if not for the worry threaded in the cadence of his voice.

He finally opened his eyes, the lids heavy enough that he knew he must have terrible bags under his eyes, not that he could remember a time without them. Sometimes he wondered if he was resurrected with them still following him from his past life, just as everything else followed him.

Lan Zhan was seated on the floor, looking serene, with no hint that he had just flown from Gusu to Qinghe in barely a day, just as put together and—

Wow, how had he never actually realized how much he admired Lan Zhan and that there might be more behind it? So much for being a genius.

Jingyi abruptly blocked his view, kneeling beside the bed with all his windswept messiness making it clear he just journeyed by sword, and Wei Wuxian almost smiled at the dichotomy.

“Wei-qianbei, when the letter arrived about your qi deviation we flew all the way here right away, with no stops at all! Sizhui is still with the Gho— I mean, with Wen-gongzi in Qishan or I’m sure he’d’ve come, too!”

He sounded so earnest and worried that Wei Wuxian felt a wave of fondness, but for Lan Zhan more than Jingyi.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan, how did you raise such empathetic juniors?”

Lan Zhan’s expression was almost the ghost of a smile when he responded, Jingyi having moved to the side so Wei Wuxian could see it, deferential to his seniors.

“I considered what Wei Ying would do.”

The compliment twisted at something inside him uncomfortably, his sincerity almost painful for more reasons than Wei Wuxian cared to explore in mixed company.

“Spare this delicate man, Hanguang-Jun,” he finally managed when he was able to speak again, too overcome for a real response.

A healer came in, likely summoned by Jingyi’s exuberance. Once she assessed his meridians, she cleared him to attend lunch, but added even more restrictions, banning any use of even small amounts of spiritual energy and urging him not to stress his body too much, which basically left him with no distractions for the foreseeable future.

Somehow this was all Nie Huaisang’s fault.

The song ended, leaving a pregnant silence, and Wei Ying felt heavy and discombobulated, but then Jingyi’s stomach rumbled loudly, the poor boy likely starving after his flight, and Wei Ying couldn’t help but laugh.

“I guess we should get lunch before you fall over,” he teased the youth, easing himself into a sitting position.

He caught Lan Zhan’s gaze and the amusement in it, hidden by his normal deadpan face, filled him with unspeakable fondness, and he grinned.

“I’ve practiced inedia,” Jingyi muttered, slightly petulant, but then his stomach gurgled again, and this time he joined in when Wei Ying laughed.

Lan Zhan, still the picture of grace, busied himself stowing his guqin in his qiankun sleeve, then rose in a single smooth movement, striding steadily to the bedside to offer his hand to Wei Wuxian.

He felt frozen for a moment by his zhiji’s steady gaze, and then he took the proffered hand and allowed himself to be helped up, something he normally would eschew, too focused on standing on his own back then to recognize that Lan Zhan was right there.

Though not touching, Lan Zhan was close enough beside him to feel his warmth as they made their way to lunch, distracting enough that he barely noticed Jingyi impatient with their pace behind them. He kept up a safe ramble about what he’d been doing in Qinghe since his arrival, eventually commenting on how ridiculously big his quarters were. Much of his last life he had made do, only having had particularly large quarters during his time in the Burial Mounds, which had been significantly less comfortable with far fewer amenities.

“Honestly, they’re almost too big for one person,” Wei Wuxian said idly, then went quiet as he realized that was on purpose, damn Nie-xiong, and he’d just blurted it out like a fool.

Lan Zhan shifting to glance at him as they walked brought him back to himself, and he forced a smile, but let it drop when he noticed the concern in his eyes.

“I’m just not used to that sort of thing—they’re much bigger than even the ones I had back…”

He tripped over his words, having instinctively almost said ‘home,’ when there was no returning to Lotus Cove, the one that had once been his home no longer in existence, razed with its people slaughtered, a shade of what it had been haunting his memory.

“Well,” he tried to salvage, “back before the war, anyway.”

Back before the world had largely stopped making sense, before indoctrination, before Jiang-shushu and Yu-furen had been killed and Lotus Pier burned, before he’d given his future to Jiang Cheng and fallen into darkness.

The attempt to salvage was, unfortunately, a worse verbal blunder than the one he’d started with, and on more levels than he cared to count. Of all the possible times for his mouth to move ahead of his brain, of course it was this one, when he had very little face left to save but just enough that it made him feel uncomfortably open.

Thankfully, they reached the dining room before he had to find more words, before he had to address the look of steady compassion Lan Zhan was giving him, the one that made his soul itch in this body that was disturbingly not quite like the one he’d worn when he died.

The surprise presences of Nie Hengxiang and Nie Yingwei helped distract him further from the need to find more words for Lan Zhan, as he used the opportunity to introduce them. They greeted him as ‘Wei-qianbei,’ which earned what sounded suspiciously like a hissed ‘yes!’ from Jingyi, and a curious glance from Lan Zhan.

Nie Hengxiang was easier to introduce, in a way, as the capable junior Nie Huaisang sent to protect him, the story of their meeting falling easily from his mouth, how he’d essentially woken up to find he’d been saved from assassination, and then learned it hadn’t been the first, just the first to get close enough for the struggle to wake him.

Lan Wangji only nodded in appreciation, but Lan Jingyi was a bit more exuberant.

“Thanks for protecting Wei-qianbei,” he said, bowing appropriately, but with a grin that was far less decorous. “You’d think people would leave him alone since he was proved innocent.”

He seemed frustrated, his tone almost a scoff, affronted on Wei Wuxian’s behalf, and it warmed him that the boy held him in such regard, more so by Nie Hengxiang’s agreement with the sentiment. He knew well enough that Jin Guangyao’s machinations didn’t fully exonerate him, that the path to his downfall had been cleared by his decisions and actions, as well, but it was nice to be seen in a positive light by the younger generation after being so reviled.

Nie Yingwei was harder to explain because Lan Zhan would no doubt hear the significance of the name. He also didn’t want to blunder ahead and overstep what she might and might not want public. He wound up introducing her as an adopted member of the Nie clan, with her courtesy name and a gesture toward Nie Huaisang to put him back in the hot seat so he could feel less on the spot.

It was his turn, anyway.

If saving someone made one responsible for them for a lifetime, surely bringing a man back to life (in part to do one’s dirty work) made one indebted enough that Nie-xiong could do him this favor.

Of course, Nie Huaisang handled it smoothly, telling him of the crèche, introducing Nie Yingwei as the first ward adopted into the clan through it and the reason for its development, his tone matter of fact, with just enough information that Lan Wangji would be able to come to the conclusion himself the deeper reasons he had been moved to save her to begin with. Wei Wuxian didn’t dare look at either of them, not able to face their shared grief and the implications of conversations had during the years of his death that he couldn’t even begin to guess at.

He didn’t know how to address any of it, now that he was alive again and cognizant of that sixteen-year grief, which understandably wasn’t magically erased just because he was back. Eventually he’d have to deal with it, but until then Wei Wuxian knew the value of a good retreat to conserve and build the energy it would require.

As they were escorted to their seats by the servants, Wei Wuxian was glad to focus solely on his lunch, full of yin foods—a millet congee with pork belly, duck eggs, and a bok choy, clams in black bean sauce, and a plate of fresh fruits, sliced and ready to eat with a drizzle of honey, all of which smelled delicious despite being devoid of peppers. Lan Jingyi joined several other Lan disciples, ones Wei Wuxian recognized from the Yi City incident, the plate on his tray piled with the fried chicken he was so obsessed with, once again showing Nie-xiong’s use of intelligence.

Wei Wuxian was taking a sip of a rather lovely fruit tea to cleanse his palate before the meal when Nie Huaisang finished explaining the crèche, and Nie Yingwei decided to contribute.

“Zongzhu named me after Wei-qianbei,” she said blandly, and Wei Wuxian only barely managed not to choke. “He started the crèche to honor him, so fewer kids would grow up in the streets.”

Nie Huaisang wasn’t quite quick enough to hide his blush behind his fan at the point-blank revelation, something Nie Yingwei seemed to take pride in.

Lan Jingyi choked slightly and whispered, “Sizhui!” to himself far too loudly.

Wei Wuxian realized all at once that A-Yuan’s courtesy name was… eerily similar, if much deeper and suggestive of a different sort of grief. He felt raw.

Lan Zhan studied Nie Huaisang for a moment, as though weighing how it altered his opinion of the Nie sect leader, before nodding in approval.

“It is a noble endeavor,” he said simply.

“Cultivation isn’t my strong point,” Nie Huaisang admitted ruefully, “so I had to find another way to protect the weak.”

With exactly no more patience for etiquette, Wei Wuxian decided the best way out of this situation was to simply start eating ahead of Nie Huaisang, who wouldn’t be offended and might even understand his need to not be present for this conversation. Lan Zhan would adhere to his reliable rule of no speech while eating. Hopefully they wouldn’t somehow circle back to it after lunch.

He wasn’t running away from it so much as delaying, but Wei Wuxian would take what he could get.

The faux pas of eating even a piece of fruit before a sect leader led to a pause in conversation, but it was weirdly devoid of judgment.

Nie Huaisang laughed, but thanked him for starting.

“Nie-daifu would have my head if I delayed your meal any further, and of course our visitors have traveled swiftly and need a good meal.”

Wei Wuxian distinctly heard Jingyi mutter “Finally” under his breath, and was glad at least he appreciated it—he’d probably been waiting to eat since Lan Zhan arrived, poor kid.

He knew he’d have to face Lan Zhan later, and do so more clearly after that because apparently coming back to life was complicated, but for now he could just focus on eating and leave that problem for future him to deal with. Wei Wuxian had always done his best thinking while otherwise occupied, so he focused on his meal, starting with the clams, enjoying the flavor the Nie cooks had brought into the bean sauce.

When he glanced at Nie Huaisang he was in the middle of making some sort of expression at Lan Zhan, as though he was trying to have a silent conversation, and he quickly hid his face behind his fan when he saw Wei Wuxian looking; Lan Zhan, on the other hand, gave no indication he noticed Nie-xiong, though Wei Wuxian made sure he kept his eyes on his food when he turned toward him.

Lan Zhan had concerns for his health, and they were probably complicated by his knowledge of Wei Wuxian’s jindan. He’d died without one, after all, and having Mo Xuanyu’s, but in a body apparently his own, was unprecedented. Lan Zhan would of course worry for his health, he was so good.

The truth was, though, that after lunch he would have to face that worry, and the underlying emotions that Wei Wuxian was now aware of, both in himself and Lan Zhan. The cause of his small qi deviations was emotional, not anything else, and he couldn’t allow him to keep worrying about his health when it was as easily resolved as a conversation.

So he made sure to finish the food on his tray, knowing the healers had decided portions and hoping to fortify himself for the inevitable discussion. Normally he’d talk through the meal, but the thought of coming up with the words was daunting, so he kept his attention on his food, eventually picking at the last bits of fruit, not trying to delay further, but not speeding toward it either.

Once, he’d have spent half the meal flicking melon seeds at Lan Jingyi just for his own amusement (and because Jingyi couldn’t complain or retaliate with Lan Zhan right beside Wei Wuxian), something that seemed to be too much trouble right now. Wei Wuxian knew this likely worried Lan Zhan, too, but it was really just that he was tired. As it turned out, qi deviations were exhausting, and he had spent more time asleep than awake since his, so perhaps the worry was unavoidable.

Nie Huaisang eventually ordered the Nie disciples to show the Lan contingent to their quarters and around the Unclean Realm if they so desired, announced that Hanguang-Jun’s quarters would be ready after the evening meal, and then promptly excused himself to “attend to sect business,” using the appearance of servants to clear the trays as a distraction to enable him to disappear through a side door before Wei Wuxian could even react, the little shit.

Lan Zhan stood smoothly, unruffled, and turned to the juniors.

“You have pushed your cores in the trip. Please use the afternoon to rest and meditate,” he told them as he dismissed them.

Lan Jingyi looked relieved enough that he could have fallen over in exhaustion, but he immediately saluted with his peers and let the Nie disciples lead the way out. He made sure to stop by Wei Wuxian and wish him a good rest of his day, punctuated with a yawn.

Lan Zhan’s expression when he turned to Wei Wuxian, holding out a hand to help him up, was almost unbearably soft, full of emotions he wasn’t sure he was ready to face, but he knew it was long overdue. He took the proffered hand and let himself be pulled to his feet, feeling much like a maiden being courted.

Wei Wuxian could feel heat rush to his face, and knew he was blushing like just such a young maiden. He was actually relieved when Lan Zhan took his flushed cheeks as something the healers should check to be certain he was well, pulling him toward the infirmary. Relieved and a strange combination of guilt and happiness, regretful for putting Lan Zhan through more worry, but also seeing the evidence of his care…

The healer, of course, said he was fine and was pleased he had eaten his meal and looked much better than earlier, sending them off with several pouches of tea to enjoy.

With the medicinal tea in hand, Wei Wuxian was only able to delay so much before they inevitably wound up in his quarters for a conversation he didn’t even know how to start, but he valiantly led the way through a garden on the way, using a koi pond as a nice excuse to dally.

He knew full well that Nie Huaisang had manufactured the delay in accommodations for Lan Zhan to meddle, and he wasn’t sure whether to be irritated or grateful.

Irritated, he decided when they arrived at his quarters to find the large stone tub off the main room had been filled with steaming hot water, with flower petals sprinkled atop in a way he could play off as a medicinal bath, but he wasn’t going to insult Lan Zhan’s intelligence by attempting to lie.

Lan Zhan took the bagged tea for him and had him sit at the low table, which was at least stocked with snacks, going to brew it himself, and Wei Wuxian settled in to watch him, not able to do anything else, his eye drawn to his zhiji’s graceful motions. Then Lan Zhan looked up as he set the brewing teapot on the table and sat in a smooth motion, and he was helpless to look away.

“Your qi deviations?” he asked, his soft voice concerned, as usual wasting no words.

“Ah… as it turns out strong emotions can disrupt qi, especially in developing or damaged cores,” Wei Wuxian said, trying to adopt the intonation of a scholar discussing something mundane.

The explanation did not ease the concern that was emanating from Lan Zhan, who reached forward to take his wrist, glancing up at him as though to ask permission, which Wei Wuxian gave with a nod, before sending a small stream of his qi though to check himself. He tried very hard not to shiver at the feel of Lan Zhan’s qi singing though his meridians.

“Which?” he asked, his voice strained, and Wei Wuxian realized with a start that Lan Zhan, though he knew he had died without a core, wouldn’t know if the core Mo Xuanyu left him had been damaged, and so his attempt to explain had only worried him further.

“Mo Xuanyu’s core is weak, but undamaged,” he said, feeling off-balance in the discussion. “It’s barely a foundation, just enough to cause trouble.”

He felt off-balance in the discussion, in the way it felt like it was already going sideways, with him worrying Lan Zhan again by speaking without thinking, and he distracted himself for a minute pouring tea for each of them and taking a sip, breathing in the steam wafting from his cup and hoping it could ease some of the stress he felt.

“You will refine it, as you did before.”

The confidence in his voice helped, his faith in Wei Wuxian’s abilities and determination, the acknowledgement of his capabilities–and he had always had faith, even in the darkest times of the war, when Wei Wuxian was drowning in resentment and Lan Zhan worried for his health.

In some ways that made it worse since, as he had told Nie Huaisang, he’d known from the moment he was dropped into the Burial Mounds that his days were numbered. As terribly as he’d died, it had honestly bee something of a relief to be freed of it all by the time it happened, and he knew full well that, past or not, that would make Lan Zhan worry more about him, and he’d done quite enough of that for two lifetimes.

“It won’t be easy, but I’m used to attempting the impossible,” Wei Wuxian said after a moment, then tried not to wince at using the Yunmeng Jiang motto when he definitely isn’t part of the sect.

He was certain Lan Zhan noticed—he didn’t comment on the matter of the Jiang clan and Jiang Cheng (not that he ever would vocally), but a brief shift in expression reminded Wei Wuxian that there was a lot of unpleasant history between Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng that wasn’t likely to ever change because they both held grudges.

“Treatises exist regarding the link between emotion and qi disruption, particularly in developing cores,” Lan Zhan said instead, his way of asking gently for information.

“It’s troublesome; just things from before, things I never had a chance to think about because things got messy.”

The end of his first life had involved the Siege of the Burial Mounds and being ripped apart by fierce corpses, after all, and there were large holes in his memory, spans of time that were missing, when he knew time was passing and the world kept moving, but he had no recollection of any of it and he didn’t even know how to begin to find the words to discuss it, as much as he talked.

“Water can carry a boat and also overturn it,” Lan Zhan said.

Though Xunzi intended the sentiment to refer to the need for rulers to consider the needs of the people, Wei Wuxian could see how it applied—he couldn’t ignore his own needs anymore without capsizing.

“That’s why I left to travel, kind of, but I can’t do that dodging assassins.”

Nie Hengxiang had been following him for some time, and he had no doubt he’d witnessed Wei Wuxian struggle—he had difficult nights thinking about Shijie and Wen Qing, other ghosts from the past, unable to keep from poring over his own memories of the last few months of his first life, and at least one difficult night he had gotten ahold of some Lotus Breeze and had been lost in grief. It was a minor miracle that the young man hadn’t been scared off, but the Unclean Realm had already had to clean up after him, and he knew at some point he’d feel stifled, and he wouldn’t be able to leave until the assassination issue was dealt with.

Or, more realistically, others would fuss if he even tried, and it was only a matter of time before he wound up blowing up his workroom out of sheer boredom, at least once the Nie puzzle was solved.

“I will speak with Nie-zongzhu,” Lan Zhan promised.

Wei Wuxian was filled with affection. All his life, or lives, he had fallen and, with no one to catch him. He’d lost his fear of falling long ago, but hitting the ground hurt. If someone was there to catch him…

Lan Zhan had made it a point to stay by his side after his return, and had tried to before he’d died, when Wei Wuxian hadn’t let him. In this life, he had quietly offered unwavering support, even carried him. Now Lan Zhan had again flown to his side as though to catch him, offering the sort of soft landing he craved.

Impossible as it seemed, Wei Wuxian wanted nothing more than to never be apart from him again.

“Nie-xiong has it in hand, I’m sure.”

He knew Nie Huaisang likely would deal with the issue of stopping whoever was sending the assassins in whatever way he saw fit, and he knew better than to request details from him. Wei Wuxian would prefer not to know, and tried not to feel guilt at the same time—Nie Huaisang was capable of much, probably as much as he was toward the end of his first life, but perhaps less foolish about it, and he had enough blood on his own hands. Where ignorance was bliss, it was folly to be wise.

“I’m still trying to make sense of what I do remember, and it turns out my memory is poor.”

Lan Zhan leveled him with a flat look that made him laugh; after all, he had boasted of his memory, and yet it had taken him most of their travels to remember where he had heard the song. He was still owed its title.

“I know. My memory has always been poor, like I have only one hazy memory of my parents and the donkey.”

“Little Apple?”

Wei Wuxian smiled fondly at his zhiji; who else would make that sort of connection?

He’d planned at first to night hunt his way out of jianghu, never to return, and when he saw Little Apple it was such an odd convergence with the beginning of his last life, just seemed right to take her. Clearly her owner, who left her saddled and tethered on the street in the middle of the night, didn’t appreciate her, and he liked to think he’d at least given her a more interesting life.

Though he hadn’t managed to leave the jianghu, Wei Wuxian wasn’t sorry. Lan Zhan leading while he rode Little Apple was a little like that snippet of memory, and many times their quest he was struck by the odd parallels, wondering what they meant, but he’d figured it out finally—for all his loss of family, he had Lan Zhan.

“I have holes in my memories of my last life, it seems, and it got worse especially toward the end—Nightless City but not how I got back to the Burial Mounds, and very little of the months before the Siege.”

Lan Zhan’s focus on him sharpened abruptly, and Wei Wuxian distracted himself from his nerves by pouring them both tea, the medicinal blend bitter but in line with the fare at the Cloud Recesses. He also poured dried seasoned mushrooms from the fresh bag the servants had left on the table for him.

“I returned you to the Burial Mounds,” Lan Zhan said.

Wei Wuxian nearly dropped the plate, startled by the admission, and he could do little more than stare at him. The memory of the scars on his back, discovered not long after his return, rose unbidden, and he felt ill at the knowledge that this was likely the reason for them. And then he’d gone and died despite Lan Zhan’s efforts, leaving him to heal from what had looked like an obscene number of lashes while grieving.

Likely it was more complicated; surely Lan Qiren wouldn’t have him whipped so viciously for so little. But Wei Wuxian wouldn’t ask, knowing he would share the details if he wished, partly because he was afraid to know. He wanted to say Lan Zhan shouldn’t have, but he knew that would belittle his sacrifice, even if he felt strongly that he hadn’t been worth it.

He’d known he was headed inexorably toward death, and he hadn’t meant to drag someone as bright as Lan Zhan with him into the dark. He’d tried to push him away so he wouldn’t be caught up in the fallout, but he was too good, would never abandon him willingly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember,” he said finally, tracing the rim of his teacup with one finger.

“No apologies or thank yous between us,” Lan Zhan reminded him.

They had agreed to that before Wei Wuxian knew how much he had hurt Lan Zhan, how much he needed to make up for. He remembered telling Jin Ling that someday he would wind up saying both through tears, then remembering Wen Qing’s final words to him as he lay paralyzed in the Burial Mounds.

“I thought you wanted me to go with you to Gusu for punishment,” he said heavily, an apology. “I wasn’t really thinking rationally.”

A part of him had thought he deserved it, for daring to manipulate resentful energy, for daring to survive the Burial Mounds no matter what the cost. Mostly he had just expected censure from the jianghu, and hadn’t figured on surviving the war; waking up several days after the final battle had been a somewhat unwelcome surprise, and Lan Zhan’s entrance and insistence on trying to help him by playing the guqin, regardless of how fruitless it was, had been a welcome, if bittersweet, distraction.

“I know you wanted to help, now, but while everything was happening…”

Wei Wuxian sighed, not sure how to broach the subject even after time thinking about it, and he delayed further by taking a sip of the ridiculously bitter medicinal tea, unable to keep himself from pulling a face at the taste.

“I couldn’t be your equal anymore, like fate without destiny,” he finally said.

He knew Lan Zhan would understand the romantic undertones of the phrase, though he felt like a coward for confessing in such a roundabout way, and moreso because he didn’t dare to look at him, particularly when Lan Zhan’s breath caught briefly.

“We have the destiny to meet across a thousand miles,” Lan Zhan murmured after a long moment, his voice rough, “and beyond death.”

The rejoinder, using another proverb about love, made Wei Wuxian look up, and the way Lan Zhan looked at him, the obvious love, pulled at his heart and undammed his mouth, bringing everything out in a rush.

“Lan Zhan, I have a poor memory, and I didn’t understand how I felt back then. You’re really great. I like you, or in other words, I fancy you, I love you, I want you, I can’t leave you, I whatever you. I want to night-hunt with you for the rest of my life. I don’t want anyone but you—it can’t be anyone but you—”

Wei Wuxian wasn’t able to let out another sound, as Lan Zhan pushed the table aside and embraced him tightly, pulling him to his feet and silencing him with his lips and tongue. Though he had always been a little weirded out by the idea of another person’s tongue in his mouth, with Lan Zhan he thought perhaps this was what he had craved all his life.

Breathlessly between lingering kisses, Lan Zhan repeated his words, and he could feel the intense beat of his heart, his own throbbing in his chest as well.

“I didn’t know,” Wei Wuxian said, letting a note of apology slip into his voice before he was silenced again by a more insistent kiss, Lan Zhan’s teeth biting his lip, surprising him with how good that felt.

Normally he would have felt trapped, pushed with his back against the wall, the heat of Lan Zhan’s body pressed along the front of him in a delicious counterbalance to the cool stone, but instead he felt almost absurdly safe. Lan Zhan tasted better than the finest wine—even Emperor’s Smile couldn’t hold a candle. He couldn’t wait to taste more of him.

“Ah, you stole my first kiss,” he panted when they broke for breath. “Take accountability.”

“Gladly,” Lan Zhan huffed, claiming his lips again and shifting against him in a way that pushed something hot and unmistakable against his belly, large enough to feel clearly through all the layers of robes, and his own cock jolted in response.

He had thought Nie Huaisang’s porn had been overestimating, but instead Lan Zhan was even more well-endowed than the artist had assumed.

“You’re so big—how is that supposed to fit?” he gasped as Lan Zhan moved to suck on his neck, leaving his mouth free, and the comment was clearly well-received. “Ah, how is it getting bigger?! Lan Zha—”

Lan Zhan swallowed any further words, though Wei Wuxian happily made other use of his tongue and kept up a litany of filthy comments whenever his mouth was free, enjoying the way it made him even harder.

They didn’t make it to the bed, yanking each other’s clothing half off, desperately rutting in the friction of their robes, eventually both of them in Lan Zhan’s hand, making a mess of each other in the best way.

When his knees went weak in the aftermath of his orgasm, Lan Zhan carried him to the bed and worked to rid them of their clothes, his cock already at attention again. He looked like carved jade, his skin smooth and glistening with sweat from their exertions, though Wei Wuxian knew if he turned the whip scars would be visible.

The Wen brand on his chest, in the exact location his had been in his first life, engulfed his attention, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching forward to trace the shape with his finger.

“Is this related to me, too?” he couldn’t help but ask, acutely aware that the other scars Lan Zhan bore were on his behalf.

“Nothing. I was drunk,” Lan Zhan responded after a moment of silence, and then surged forward, pushing him back on the bed and caging his body with his own.

Wei Wuxian was suitably distracted when he learned Lan Zhan didn’t know about the use of oil, and quickly educated him, both verbally and demonstrably, leaving both of them panting with arousal. The stretch hurt enough that he didn’t want to think of how it would have been without the oil.

When Lan Zhan was fully sheathed, pressing him into the bed with his weight, he shook slightly with the effort of staying still to let Wei Wuxian adjust to the pressure and heat, his cock throbbing with his heartbeat, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but laugh.

“Lan Zhan, what would your uncle think, doing this without being married! He’d surely drown you in a pig cage!”

“I have considered us wed since the Cold Spring cave,” Lan Zhan replied.

He didn’t give Wei Wuxian any time to process the statement before he began to thrust, the pace punching his breath from his lungs, a jolt of pleasure rippling across his body and down his spine unexpectedly.

Wei Wuxian’s brain took a moment to catch up, overwhelmed by sensation—Lan Zhan’s big hands gripping his ass as he pulled him into each thrust, his calloused fingers pressed into the flesh so hard they might leave bruises, the loud erotic slap of Lan Zhan’s thighs against his buttocks with each thrust a distraction, the growing heat between them.

The headband… Lan Yi… and the bow.

Of course he’d accidentally eloped with Lan Zhan back then, the most important moment in his life unknown to him. And so when he’d said Lan Zhan looked as though he was mourning a wife… it hadn’t been far off from the truth. Not that they’d ever consummated the marriage back then.

“We could’ve been doing this when we were fifteen?” Wei Wuxian squawked, outraged that so much time was wasted. “Ah, we should do this every day.”

Lan Zhan’s response was to increase the tempo, as though to make up for the lost time, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but tease him about when he first wanted to fuck him, making a game of listing the different times they could have been doing this during the lectures and beyond. He could feel himself spiraling with the waves of pleasure, begged Lan Zhan to slow down, wanting this to last longer.

“Ah, softer, it’s my first time. Be nice.”

Though he eased a bit, Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but tease him more, about how Lan Zhan could have Silenced him in the library so he couldn’t protest, and it was clear his words were stoking his lust, as the pace increased again.

By the time he came, Wei Wuxian had resorted to begging, and then Lan Zhan continued, fucking him through his orgasm and into an almost painful overstimulation, his body trying to come again even though his cock was already spent. His body twisted, moving without his will, and eventually a deep wave of undulating pleasure washed across him, leaving his limbs limp. Lan Zhan’s thrusts turned erratic and a hot wet warmth filled him as he came.

Wei Wuxian came back to himself when Lan Zhan lifted him from the bed and the warmth of the bath water enveloped him. He had to thank Nie Huaisang for his forethought, the warmth easing muscles that were unused to exertion but would surely build quickly.

They bathed languidly and then took advantage of the tub to fuck again, neither of them caring about the growing puddle around the tub, the suction of the water with each thrust too delicious to resist.

Lan Zhan, ever the gentleman, dried him with a strange sort of reverence, though perhaps not so strange if Wei Wuxian considered how long it had taken them to get here, two lifetimes, and then settled him at the table with a fresh pot of tea while he stripped the soiled bedding.

He thought it a waste, as they’d just soil them again later, but when Lan Zhan carried him to the bed he was happy they were fresh and soft against his skin. It was an entirely different sort of pleasure to sprawl with him naked across the bed, skin to skin in a different form of intimacy. Lan Zhan let him doze, simply holding him, and his nap was blessedly peaceful, as though his zhiji was a talisman against nightmares.

Later, when they eventually left the room for a much-needed dinner, they found a silencing talisman affixed to the door, a stack of them tucked into a parcel on the floor, a not-so-subtle message that made Lan Zhan’s ears turn red.

Surely a coincidence, none of the juniors, Nie or Lan, could look at them in the dining hall. Poor Lan Jingyi’s face was so flushed he looked like he’d been dunked in rouge, and Wei Wuxian amused himself talking to the teen, finding it fun to fluster him by just reminding him of his presence.

Nie Huaisang, on the other hand, looked ridiculously smug and he didn’t bother to hide it behind a fan.

Wei Wuxian had to concede he was very much entitled.

————

The phrase “fate without destiny” is often used when breaking up or ending a relationship, so Wei Wuxian is confessing he no longer felt he could be beside Lan Wangji. The first part of Lan Wangji’s response is also a proverb, though the last bit is added because he wants to make it clear his feelings have not lessened.

This is the end of this fic, but not the series. I’m not sure when I’ll start the next installment, as I’m participating in the WangXian Winter Solstice Gift Exchange again, and I have all the other in-progress fics to work on as well.

Writing has been slow lately. I’ve been put on a biologic injection for my autoimmune disease, and it’s helping but the help is painful right now. My brain is often really foggy, so I’ve been doing loom knitting when I can’t do anything else. I have a rheumatologist now and am being tested to find out if I have other coexisting autoimmune issues.

Personal life has also been pretty chaotic, which is also slowing my recovery. The sheer amount of drama my family can generate is a little amazing.

So mostly I’ve been writing when participating in Six Sentence Sunday and WIP Wednesday on Tumblr, slowly and deliberately, then fleshing out that when I’m able.

Thank you for your continued patience, and thank you adrian_kres for the beta!

[glitchy-npc]

1, 2 and 31 for the BG3 Act 1 asks 🧡👀

Tell us about your Tav! Name, class and subclass, race, pronouns. Do you have a headcanon for where they're from? Their family? Are they a Dark Urge? Or did you choose an Origin Character? Was it an easy decision?

Jacen, Oath of Vengeance Paladin, Dark Urge, Half Drow, He/They. He doesn't remember his past and I'm still kind of figuring it out as I play thru what the dark urge origin reveals. Despite the memory loss he still feels very connected to being a paladin. He has a code of honor. He wants to protect people. He wants to see the wicked brought to justice. What do you do when you start to discover you are very, very wicked yourself? I had a previous Tav who I played all thru early access. I loved Sparrow (Half Wood Elf Ranger) a lot, I had fic and art of her but when it came to playing the full game with her, I just felt I couldn't connect with her anymore as an oc. I miss her sometimes (her perception and high dex and initiative I reeeeally took for granted) but Jacen feels more organic, especially from a roleplay perspective.

Was there something about the character creator that just couldn't capture your Character? Please tell us about their hair, facial hair, tattoos, piercings, disabilities, their trans or intersex body, or anything else you're comfortable sharing

When I realized I wanted to move on from Sparrow I think I spent like, intermittently, 4 or so hours in the cc just trying to figure out what I wanted. Because he wasn't based on any preexisting headcanons I feel like the cc captures him well. I did restart him early on to deepen his voice tho. As far as physical disabilities he suffers a lot from shoulder pain, especially the right shoulder and manages somewhat with stretches and balms when he cant get them. Less managed are his depression and dissociative disorder. But having understanding/supportive friends helps, mostly.

Does your Character have new or old phobias or superstitions that affect their story?

Oh the phobia's are new, or so he thinks. Having no memory of your past makes you doubt everything. He's terrified he might hurt his friends, considering he's just learned he doesn't even need to be conscious to kill....

BG3 Act 1 Asks

Thanks for the ask! 💜

[arttheclown]

paragraphs of bad mental health stuff under the cut don’t mind me 💀

i love finishing school and realizing i truly need to begin adulthood and focusing on things like building a writing CV and getting my driver’s license and most importantly breaking away from my severely controlling & emotionally abusive mother and then just. every bad fucking thing from the last 10 years hitting me in the face lol. my father’s deterioration and death and a really violent incident with him i don’t like to talk about. a lifetime of my mother micromanaging nearly everything i do, abusing me, gaslighting me, and refusing to let me grow up to this day. a string of abusive and manipulative codependent friendships that ended in ugly and sometimes public falling-outs. my grandpa dying in march and my grandma having to live on her own now. having to see my sister go through a lot of the same shit that i have and desperately hoping she can be helped in time so she’s not 2 years away from being 30 and just falling the fuck apart lol

i’ve spent so many years saying i’m fine and i’ll get over it and move through it but everything has gone still right now. i can’t run anymore. i physically cannot lie and downplay things and say i’m fine anymore. i am unable. i have become a people-pleaser to the point where doing things purely for myself — sometimes knowing i’m the one who gets more out of it than anyone else — is a foreign concept to me. i cannot do things anymore if i feel i’m mostly doing them to just please someone else because then i start panicking & i know that’s progress but god!!! it feels like shit!!! these growing pains hurt so bad!!! and then i start agonizing over potentially disappointing people and uugghuhh i don’t like it. i don’t like it at all.

i want to do things but everything feels so fucking terrifying right now. realizing the extent that i’ve been traumatized is miserable and i don’t even like admitting it because then i feel like i’m lying or trying to get attention. i don’t know if i have fucking ptsd because that’s such a severe disorder but at the very least i’m going through a period where even little things petrify me & sometimes just getting through a day feels like an accomplishment. i love food and i’ve been agonizing over making sure i’m nourished properly on top of dealing with selective eating that i’m almost positive is because of my autism. i am a small person — if i lose any more weight i will get sick and that frightens me. and i’m painfully aware that the reason this is probably happening in the first place is because i am so used to worrying about SOMETHING that my mind can’t accept peace and is now inventing issues and it sucks. this isn’t a new issue for me but it sucks. it feels like hypervigilance or something. idk.

i kept hoping that maybe i would bounce back on my own like i’ve done in the past and maybe i can but i don’t know if i’m able to waiting and how many pep talks i can keep giving myself, nor do i want to constantly rely on others for comfort. i’m fortunate enough that i live in a part of the world where i don’t have to pay for doctor’s appointments so i might just go and see if mine can get me some help because 🥴 i don’t know how many bad weeks i am capable of having right now! i’m gonna be honest!

it’s going to suck likely paying for therapy. it’s going to suck potentially finding a new therapist if it turns out i’m uncomfortable with the one i’ve had since childhood because don’t get me wrong he’s a nice man but i don’t know if he even recognizes i’m autistic on top of other things lol. i really do not want to end up on anxiety medication or antidepressants and want to believe self-medicating with weed is enough but i don’t know anymore.

i just needed to write these feelings out somewhere. i can’t silently carry them with me anymore. they’re too heavy. i hope things get even a little easier soon.

[novadreii]

something i don't talk a lot about on here are my chronic pain/illness problems. i guess because i try not to think about it more than i already do, and it's probably the biggest present source of anxiety for me.

when i entered my 30s a couple of years ago, after a particularly stressful year after about 10+ of them, my physical health declined pretty quickly. my hair fell out, i gained weight, my perfect eyesight suddenly wasn't one day, i had constant fatigue and brain fog. i waited out healthcare timelines and was diagnosed with the beginning stages of an autoimmune thyroid disorder right before i moved across the country and got on another waitlist. in this time i managed to improve a lot of the symptoms with lifestyle factors.

i spent the next year researching everything i could about autoimmunity and its triggers, and also about things that could improve my condition while i waited. i tried all kinds of foods and supplements, but unfortunately, stress is pretty much my number one trigger and i was in a very toxic relationship with someone who seemed determined to maximize the amount i experienced on a daily basis. i took too long to leave (6 months since the onset of the neglect, but this person had been triggering me with their unavailability for basically the entire 2ish years).

i remember fearing i'd go to sleep and never wake up from the constant chest pain my anxiety was causing me, and that was my cue to end things. but it was too late health wise--I'd already spent months crying every night and trying to control the shaky, cold sweat anxiety that accompanied me almost every minute of every day.

this basically triggered a huge flare of my illness that had added fun new symptoms (arthritis in my hands, inner ear pain, and constant, all-day muscle spasms and eye twitches. fun!). i am once again, on a waitlist, because i moved back home and had to go to the back of the line :) i have spent all summer trying to regain the progress i had made before my personal drama happened. eating right, moving my body, avoiding stressful endeavours like the plague, processing trauma in therapy head on so it doesn't fester, sleeping for the first time in probably a year and overall just resting for probably the first time since i was 15 lol. my job is a blessing because it's remote, stupid easy and relaxed, allowing me the kind of work life balance where i can heal myself while earning a living. i've complained about my job a lot, but the universe sent it to me because it knew i needed something flexible to accommodate the freakshow my life would soon become.

this is basically what i work on in therapy these days. the surrender needed to know i am doing all i can, and right now all i can do is continue to take care of myself and wait. and it's okay. i will likely see yet another patronizing mandoctor in a couple of months, and i won't be in a flare then so i won't feel so terrible, and i will finally get the meds that will help me feel normal again, what i haven't felt for coming on 5 years. it's out of my control right now, but that's not a bad thing because it's going to be okay anyways.

this process has truly helped me not identify so hard with my body. i need to stop fighting it (while taking the best care of myself as i can) and accept that it's gonna do what it wants to do. but above all, i cannot be so pressed about it because that's the one thing that makes it worse above all else. i have learned to ignore/live with a certain amount of pain; it's not always at a 9 or 10, but it spikes there sometimes but averages out to 4-6 on a daily basis. just enough to be distracting, annoying, and prohibitive of certain activities (begging my brother to do dishes because it physically hurts to use my hands. also can't cook which is a rare thing that brings me joy). i will have to ice my wrist after this. but again, i'm in a flare so it will let up eventually. and in that time i just have to let things be. a concept that was foreign to me this time last year.