#I grew up thinking everything self indulgent was evil

[wanderlust-----witch]

Becoming pagan turned me into a hedonist. I love that for me.

[hellothisisangle]

Cae is stunning! What is his backstory?

It’s been on my mind for a while! Just never wrote anything down.

The bhaalspawn baby appeared outside Baldur’s gate and was found by some farmhands who took him in. Bhaal must have missed the mark a bit when he was sired.

He toiled on the farm like their many other children (more kids=more labor), but he was out of place and bullied for being a tiefling among all humans. The urges then began showing from time to time and Scelaritas appeared before him, trying to coax the young bhaal spawn. Caelum, child that he was, didn’t understand. He told his adoptives, but they said to him that it was an evil fey creature and to stay away from it.

He would sometimes sneak to the city, stealing resplendent things he could get his hands on, then be harassed by the fellow children or beat by their parents if they caught him with anything good. His aptitude for music began showing itself around this time as well, as he would sing or make makeshift instruments. Only after a particular incident, where he killed (accidentally or otherwise) one of the children’s pet rabbits, did they decide to sell him off to a slave trader, thinking he really was a devil child all along.

The trader recognized Caelum’s talent and potential, dressed him up and presented him to well-off enough families. One of them accepted him in as something like an exotic bird. Caelum began to realize his issue with the urges, how wrong they were, and he did his best to suppress them as he knew that the position he was in now was his best chance at living a decent life. They didn’t love him but he got pretty much everything else he wanted. He just had to not think about the darker thoughts that creeped in… or hide the evidence better. Scelaritas again attempted to appear before him, but Caelum would completely ignore him, thinking no good could come from indulging him.

As he grew older he was sent to college. He was fairly popular and wildly charasmatic, thus certain odd behaviors were excused. But the urges grew ever stronger. To talk his classmates into meeting him at secluded places, to do unspeakable things to anyone who trusted him. He satiated the cravings with his own flesh, gaining his fascination with self harm. He knew he couldn’t continue like this. The next time Scelaritas appeared, he gave in, and was swept away to the cult beneath the city.

Everything from then on felt exceptionally “right”. He was allowed to do whatever he wanted, free to be who he thought he really was. Because it always felt like an inevitability. He thought he finally, actually had a family who understood him, and he devoted himself completely to it. He was around 20 here, and Orin was a child. They got along pretty well, her always insisting they had a sibling rivalry but Caelum never took her seriously. In between this time he rose up in the ranks of the cult and grew close to Gortash. A decade passed before Orin betrayed him and that’s where the start of the game begins. (and that fic I wrote)

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

Lovers' fevers.

Quick summary: Rust tries to overcome the night you spent together.

Word count: 655 words

Warnings: Mentions of smut; don't chain-smoke???

A/N: Last drabble before I actually commit to a longer story. Read context for this (and eventually that) here!

***

To remove himself from his tendency to think and think and think, Rust smoked, slumped over the wiry railing of the upper balcony outside his place. His first instinct had been to drink, of course—but, once he had opened the fridge, he was consumed by the image of your fingers curled pretty over the neck of the Corona he really shouldn’t have given you. 

So far, he had made his way through half a pack, sucking down smoke as if he’d be nearly as lucky enough to be granted his silent death wish. At least, then, his skin would stop buzzing like a halogen bulb, give way to true silence. 

It was evil, really: if there existed a God, He sure loved violence. Rust would’ve loved to blame it on external possession: it had not been him reduced to an animal, really, but something other, and that something had touched and been touched and had indulged in that pointless hunger. Selfish. 

He shuddered quietly at the memory, which pulsed thickly, rhythmically, just behind his eyes, an all-consuming vibration. Half-convinced that there was something supernatural about your touch, Rust hastily lit another cigarette, crushing the previous beneath his matted work shoes, counting on the habit to numb this inconvenient distraction. His skin was thick. So thick, in fact, that there were times where Rust felt it was really a suit, some aspect he could step out of and inspect for maintenance. No sensation, no pain, could ever compare to the fact-based knowledge that everything happens in the head. Manage the mind; manage the self. The mind outlasted the self. Nostrils burning, eyes blown wide, Rust would tell that to Crash before receding, so that his brain would not leak from his ears. It usually worked. Here, he felt acutely aware of every temperature shift, every varying texture upon his skin, writhing secretly with near overstimulation.

Still, you remained, like a ghost. He dragged a hand across his face, like he might manually remove the anguish there. 

He should’ve liked to blame you. Temptress, Eve in the garden. Only, in what world would that ever be fair? Rust only existed to deliver what was fair, what was just. He refused to align with the supposed blameless. Marty considered himself blameless, and some unmanaged part of Rust loathed him for it, itched to apprehend him.

Rust was not blameless – far from it. Every bad thing that happened to him, he knew he deserved. Call it karma. Nature carried out its dues – why shouldn’t he?

You had smelled so fresh. 

You were trying to quit – he had almost felt guilty, smoking so openly in front of you. Then too, it had been a last-line defence against the craving that only grew every time he allowed himself to look at you, that gnawed and tore at his gut when your tired voice had quietened to a low drawl. You: threat to his realm, soft, wanting. When you had opened yourself to him, took him in deep, you were close and warm and wet – Rust would have liked to have blamed it on his programming, the way he responded. He knew, though, that it was just him.

He would not sleep tonight, he understood. He would not even approach his bed. The whole place still smelled like you, even though the linens had been to the laundromat’s, even though he had had the windows cracked open to Louisiana’s summer heat every night since. 

Maybe Rust would drive to a bar. Maybe he would stop at a gas station, stock up on Camel Blues. Then, he would shower. In the morning, he would shower again, knowing that, in any proximity at work, he could risk weakening your resilience to quit with the cigarette smoke that seemed infused into his very being. Or perhaps he would let you be tempted by this – perhaps you would then understand what was happening to him. 

[dominickearney]

i have a very self indulgent cattonquick feminization fic idea, but i don't think i'm gonna write it. i still really wanna find other ppl who might be into it though so. ideas below

oliver poisoned him, but felix didn't die. oliver flees saltburn while felix is in the hospital, scared of possible retaliation or worse. his excuse is everything "hitting too close to home", as the cattons still are unaware of his actual home life. he comments on how overdoses are much too common for him and he can't handle seeing felix in such a state.

felix never sees oliver again.

until he returns to school that fall anyway.

they avoid each other all semester. felix sees him around campus still. oliver's hair is starting to get longer. probably because felix isn't around to tell him what looks good anymore.

felix tells his friends and farleigh that he's mad because oliver left while he was recovering. nothing about him lying.

felix knows oliver tried to kill him. he's mad at himself for missing him. he's mad at himself for not caring.

they return after holiday break.

it's more of the same. avoiding each other, sometimes making awkward eye contact. oliver doesn't talk to anyone, has no friends seemingly. felix always sees him alone. not even the weird blond guy follows him around anymore. his hair's past his ears now. he tucks it behind sometimes.

felix gets drunk at the pub like always. he can't stop thinking about oliver the whole time. how evil he is. how much he wants to hurt him. his eyes. his lips. how much he misses him. his hair. felix leaves. doesn't bring a girl home with him. goes to find ollie instead.

ollie's in his dorm of course. where else would he be?

oliver answers when felix knocks, then tries to close it out of fear when he sees who it is. felix stops the door with his hand, shoves his way inside and onto oliver's bed.

oliver nervously follows, but keeps his distance.

"i need to talk to you"

"felix-"

"shut the fuck up, ollie. you left me to die, least you can fucking do is shut the fuck up"

oliver shuts up. felix feels sick. there's a moment.

"why did you do it?"

"do what?" felix makes a face. "honest to god felix i haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about"

felix's voice changes. "ollie."

that breaks oliver. he rushes up to him on his bed, pleading with felix for forgiveness, making his excuses, declaring his love. felix finds it as pathetic as it is endearing. his face remains neutral as he watches his former best friend and attempted murderer grovel at his feet, pull at his pants and beg for forgiveness.

felix finally speaks. “i don’t forgive you.”

oliver is shattered. "felix..."

he looks at oliver, looks in his eyes. he's always gotten attention, sure, but he's never had devotion like this. it's intoxicating, watching someone look up at him like he's a god, like he possesses unwordly powers.

he pushes oliver's new, longer bangs out of the way, gets a good look at him. he runs his thumb along oliver's bottom lip. oliver is hesitant, but he takes it into his mouth. felix pulls him open. oliver just sits there, pillar still, looking up at felix in adoration. always fucking looking up at him. a glob of spit falls from felix’s lips into oliver's waiting mouth. oliver closes his eyes, clearly being overtaken by pleasure, and swallows it. he's accepted his only chance at redemption.

"i will never forgive you." felix doesn't believe his own words, but needs to say them.

he pulls oliver into his lap (not as easily as he had hoped). oliver's shaking, but keeps his hands at his sides.

for a second, felix thinks about fucking oliver tonight. it's unfamiliar territory, but he's been around bisexuals his whole life, even if he never thought he was one. and maybe he's not, looking at oliver. not just his hair, his hands are so much smaller than felix's own. he's so much smaller than felix in general. fucking oliver would basically be like fucking a girl.

"you grew your hair out."

"i didn't really..." felix pushes a loose bit of oliver's hair behind his ear. "do you like it?"

felix nods. he wants to kiss him. god, he wants to kiss him, but oliver hasn't earned it yet. they have so much to talk about. too much, but at least for now, they have a mutual understanding.

tldr: felix is beating himself up for missing oliver. felix copes with his feelings by treating oliver like a girl. potentially cracks his egg? or is it a devotion thing? who knows!

[scaly-freaks]

random thought that occured to me in the middle of the night after reading chapter eleven of tgowarl, but no matter how loving amara's parents may have been when they actually did give her attention, it truly is the cruelest thing to be subjected to their happiness - when, as even amara says, its such a rare thing to procure for oneself in the world :(( i know im stating the obvious and that was likely the point for the reader to understand, but it truly does explain her rebellious streak perfectly. they unintentionally made their child feel alienated, like she were peering at them through a window - into their a warm house, while she froze to death outside enduring the blizzardous winter. apart from the blatant neglect, it's the worse thing they could've inflicted upon her as a child (among the lesser evils).

it's quite pitiful... how she grew up viewing her own parents relationship as the golden example of love. a love so pure, it's become selfish in it's pursuit.

don't get me wrong, im sure we can all agree in unison that amara generally does not have the wisest taste in her choice of partners, far from it - but the image of her parents taunting her by comparison at the back of her mind most certainly would not help in encouraging amara to make better decisions. just feeds into this hopeless belief that happiness is unattainable because amara's highest standard to reference from is her own parent's relationship, which would probably make any other relationship seem dull. i suppose that's why the next best thing for amara is that all consuming love? because if she managed to enter a relatively healthy relationship, it still wouldn't be like her parents relationship. the kind of love that grants blissful ignorance to everything else. it'd fulfill a role, but overall amara would be empty imo. where as if she's indulging her 'type', even if she's ashamed of herself because 'there can only be so many mistakes' one can allow themselves to make, horribly enough... at least it'd satisfy her. its a very.. bad, self destructive mentality of course - but if nothing else will ever compare, might as well do what provides you the most satisfaction right?

okay sorry for the rather long ramble, it just became a sudden hyperfixation to me since i love nuance in psychology like that ^^

*instils voice with the sheer tenderness of Colin Farrell's Irish lilt* Oh I absolutely fucking adore this ask.

I'm so, so happy someone mentioned the parents thing, because I wrote this part of her background specifically with the hope that people would mention and comment on it (and you did!! YAY!!!)

Emotionally immature parents can go so many different ways. A lot of the time, they fail to understand or accept their mistakes because their view of the past is tinted with rose-lens. That in itself is painful for the child. I imagine at some point, Amara accused them of some of the things she complained to Aegon about, and got blank stares. They unintentionally gaslighted her by saying but baby you were happy, we remember you were, don't you remember this day when we went to that one place and you were so happy? Neglectful parents often point out things they did for you that they specifically recall because it was out of the ordinary for them to do. Rather than realise that their moments of attention were so few and far between that now even the smallest of them becomes a huge gold star for their "efforts", they think the child is remembering wrong.

If her dad beat her, or her mother snapped at her, I think Amara would cut herself off from the emotionally a lot easier. But instead, what she did was mature a lot quicker, but then become their emotional support child. She hid all her troubles the way parents should hide from their children. She turned them into the vulnerable party who needed protection; maybe if she hadn't, they might have soldiered up quicker. But she was a kid and she made a judgement and they just weren't attentive enough to realise that she had.

And then as you said, the golden ideal of their relationship becomes her aim. But since she's a child, failure hits her harder. She hasn't yet learned that you make mistakes and keep going. So when she realises her first relationship is failing, and it isn't the true love her parents share, she stays in it almost as if to punish herself for it. She can't match up to her parents, so she's just a piece of shit that deserves to suffer until something magically 'clicks' and she'll be better.

She's definitely afraid of prioritising Aegon over Jaehaera for fear of Jae ending up like her (and with plenty of people in the Keep ready to take advantage of a royal, there's dangers for Jaehaera that Amara herself can't predict but knows are coming).

But onto the subject of the way her parents raised her and how it correlates with Aegon.

So far, what she seems to seek out in her romantic partners (and her friends) is a parent. Mirian is very maternal. Alys is obviously older, and definitely a dominating force (Amara bowed fast under the way Alys patronises her which is lowkey hot but I digress). She would also make friends in KL who were much older and more worldly, for instance prostitutes, pimps, sailors, guards, you name it.

And then you have Aegon. The father of the realm, the ultimate symbol of paternalism, but suddenly she's his jester. She obviously has to obey him, but she also gets to point out his flaws and turn them into comedy that he'll laugh about. She refused to see the flaws in her own parents until it got to a point where her body and mind were unable to take the pain.

But with Aegon, this new parental ideal, she's cutting at his flaws from the start. That ruins the fantasy of 'replacement father'. If she was just a servant at court, she'd be obedient, she'd probably even respect him from a distance because of everything he's been through. Amara never wanted or meant to be his jester. It happened because he wanted it to happen.

And then suddenly, for the first time in her life, there's someone who's paying attention to her the way her parents should have, but who goes way overboard with it. She chafes at the bindings because she's accustomed to protecting herself, but at the same time, hates admitting how good it can feel. The more she finds herself sinking into it, into becoming the little girl who just needs someone to protect her and make the decisions for her, the guiltier she gets over what might happen if Jaehaera goes ignored. The princess is going to be well-protected in the castle - she won't run loose in the streets of KL like Amara did, so it'd be easy to just let her be cared for by others.

Amara herself is at risk of being an emotionally immature parent now because her needs as a child are still waiting to be fulfilled, but she's forcing herself to become the mother she never had for Jaehaera at the same time. And if she fails at this, she's going to hate herself.

It's a huge, huge psychological mess for a 23 year old honestly. Imagine discovering you view your potential lover as a replacement dad, whilst fully knowing he was a neglected child himself and can't fulfil that role properly, and THEN you both have a daughter as the cycle threatens to repeat.

Okay, I have a lot of thoughts still, but I think I rambled wayyyy too much in answer to your lovely ramble, nonnie, so I'm going to stop here.

[e77y]

Long but relatively unserious vent/rant below the cut (sorry I added this in bc I realized how long this post is oops)

Being at the center of some kind of internet witchhunt (which ik is kind of buzzwordy but) is literally my biggest fear ohhh my god. Even a small scale one… I think I would Die. Maybe it’s because I had a similar thing happen with my friend group in high school where one of them convinced the others I was like evil and spread all these rumors about me… 😭 He was splitting on me but still. That’s an explanation, not an excuse. And it basically confirmed all of my intrusive thoughts about myself, and my personality completely self-destructed and changed, and I haven’t interacted with any of those people the same way since. I isolated from them for MONTHS and just loathed myself. Bleh

The reason it’s on my mind is bc I’ve seen this happen to friends and mutuals and even just people I’ve followed in small fandoms, where the whole fandom hates them bc of this little drama and like. I KNOW that fandom drama is not the end of the world, but truly I think that would destroy me for months. And I would never be able to set foot in those spaces again :’) Getting a handful of rude comments about a fucking transfem hc I had at like 14 made me stop writing fanfic for YEARS 😭😭😭 sigh. Just bc they said it was ‘out of character for him to want to be a girl’ 🙄 (<- character who canonically felt confident when dressed as a woman btw. initially for a disguise but then she grew to love it. BUT I DIGRESS KNSHFJW)

All this to say I think that’s why I tiptoe around everything I say online… I am SO scared of ruffling feathers, but I know that fandoms are places for like! Having fun! And it’s not a big deal! And it doesn’t affect my real life! But like idk.. I just hate the idea of being hated by anyone. I’m sure that I ANNOY some people, and that’s whatever; I talk a lot and make overly personal posts sometimes (like this lol) but I don’t wanna be HATED yk? And idek if it’s better to be hated and ostracized publicly or resented in secret by people who still interact with you… :( Agh. If you ever have an issue with me, please DM me instead of letting it build up into something worse!

ANYWAY LIKE.. with fandom stuff. Idk. I want to have fun! I want to write and post things on Tumblr and AO3 etc but I am just very scared of peoples’ opinions, especially now that I have a decently popular/well-liked longfic in DnDads. For some reason I have convinced myself that writing bad or self-indulgent NSFW will make everyone hate me lmao. Like girl the POINT of fanfic is to be self-indulgent……….. sigh I need to get out more

^ light-hearted… but also kinda true haha. I stay at home a lot just bc I don’t have many reasons to go out atm and only a handful of close friends to go out with. Hopefully that will change when I move next semester lol. And whenever I get interests, they’re VERY strong and long-lasting, and fanfic writing is one of my main hobbies, so I get REALLY into online communities. And rn that is kind of my little niche fandom Tumblr bubble… which is embarrassing and probably unhealthy but whatever. I just inevitably get a lot of anxiety about things that are important/fun to me (bc OCD), especially bc I’ve never really had mutuals/‘friends’ in a fandom before this, excluding my irls

Anyway this got longer and more vent-y than I intended so I will tag accordingly, and sorry to whoever is reading this lol; I just wanted to get my thoughts written down in a public forum bc idk… Makes me feel less insane when ik other people can see it, too. Helps me not take it too seriously and spiral lol.

[theshadowrealmitself]

My other oc group did not get too much attention, but that okay, my ocs are made for me, anyways it’s gotten me in the mood to talk about my other incredibly self indulgent ocs, this time my group of superheroes

Now, the set up is v specifically the future (and a ton of it a homage or whatever to DC characters and stuff because this is my self indulgent stuff), like decades after the first superhero group was formed and now their group is composed of mainly the grandchildren from that first group

Which “grandchildren” doesn’t sound like that much time has passed, but with the main group’s powers including some kind of “slow aging” power, which their children inherited, and the grandparents and parents both had their kids way later in life, it’s actually been a significant amount of time since the first group was first formed

That first group is something like a legend to people, not only was it unheard of for superheroes to even exist before them, but they had done a ton of good fighting for the rights of everyone, like mutants and stuff, leaving everyone with this hugely idealized version of what they must have been like as well as leaving behind huge shoes for their grandchildren and other young heroes to fill

The reason why their parents didn’t have those shoes to fill is because the original group was still around when they were fighting, so no one was expecting them to take over, but eventually by the time the grandkids grew into crime fighting age there was only one of the original heroes left (I’ll talk about them in a bit)

There’s actually been a ton of older heroes disappearing, everyone has been chalking it up to either their age or they just “weren’t as good as the originals,” and it’s been happening slowly enough over time that it hasn’t raised any alarm bells, so now for the core group there’s only young heroes that are still technically minors (so like a young Justice League) and that one original hero who is still left behind

I’m not gonna get into every member because that would take. forever. so I’m just gonna talk about a few of them, starting with:

The Main Hero’s son (yeah I still haven’t named some of my favorite and longest lasting ocs, sue me.), essentially the Main Hero is like Superman except if he were a huge fucking dick, not evil, just a dick. He was seen as the leader and founder of the group, and it’s his legacy that everyone tries to live up to (he was actually a bully and all the heroes he worked with hated him, but he did do crime fighting well)

Anyways this is about his son, yeah a majority of the other characters are grandkids, but Main Hero had a way better slow aging power and only had his young son left. So his son is almost a perfect carbon copy of him, same powers, same looks, but even though his son tries to do everything to live up to his dad’s expectations, the truth is, he’s not actually sure he wants to be what his dad wants, which is for his son to become the new leader of the group

Unlike everyone else in the group, this kid was never actually given a choice on whether or not he even wanted to be a hero, much less what kind of hero he wanted to be, most of his struggles are of trying to be a leader to the group when he’s not only bad at it but he hates it, trying to figure out happened to his dad (disappeared recently, his disappearance is what starts to make people think something is up), and who his mom is (hidden parentage, as far as anyone knows, Main Hero didn’t have a wife)

Next is BB (nickname to make it easier to tell everyone apart through text), I call her that because when I think about her, I just straight up think about Bumblebee (she was one of my favorites in the og teen titans cartoon), she is actually a mutant and a granddaughter of one of the first mutants who became a hero (her family actually has normal human life spans so those grandparents became heroes some time after the group first formed), she has formed a lot of her hero identity around the Main Hero, because again everyone looks up to that guy and his legacy, and he was known as being such a great hero

She’s actually a natural leader and a much better choice than the previous kid, most of her struggles come from everyone (civilians, not those in the group) wanting Main Hero’s son to take over, but she doesn’t want to just step aside and let him have the title when not only is he not a good fit, but she wants to show how far mutants have come along that the core hero group has a mutant leader now, she’s also struggling with finding out that the hero she’s spent her entire childhood looking up to was actually a huge fucking douche who built his platform on seeming like he cared about vulnerable people when he actually didn’t

Next is a character sort of based off of M’gann (Miss Martian from Young Justice League) in that she’s an alien with mind reading and flying powers with a sweet and shy personality, but that’s where the similarities end, I picture her more as with blue skin, not those other powers, except slow aging by human’s standards, and instead of having an uncle who was part of the main league, she has a grandpa who was part of the main core group, but he wasn’t one of the original members, he joined later on, and he went missing when she was just an infant

Due to alien reasons, her family has no hope in her accomplishing much as a hero*, and she wants so badly to live up to her grandpa’s heroic name and be someone he would be proud of

(*I know it’s not the same, but explaining the alien stuff of my made up universe would turn this from a long post to a way too long post, so the best way to explain, continuing with the M’gann way of looking at her, it would be like if everyone in the family had been a green Martian and she was born a white Martian (I know that’s not how it works in that universe but bear with me), except hating her for being a “white Martian” is just a personal family thing instead of a cultural planet thing)

What she doesn’t actually know is that her grandpa, before his disappearance, loved her unconditionally and actually favored her over every other family member, he saw her birth as a sign that he did something right, due to alien cultural reasons, he considered her good luck

She’s also exactly like him in personality when he first started off as a hero

The only person who knows this is the last remaining hero of the “golden age” who was best friends with that man, and it kills them inside that his granddaughter is exactly like him, and they just miss their best friend so much

I know I said I was gonna talk about that hero, but (even tho I call the other hero Main Hero) this one actually is like,, the protagonist to me, and I have way too much I wanna talk about them with, so I’m just gonna schedule this post and maybe continue it with more info on that character another day!

[literalliterature]

🧠🍎

HELLO sorry for the late response but on the bright side(?) I can't sleep so you're getting my unhinged 2 AM responses <3 Also since you didn't specify I answered for all 4 of my OCs I mentioned in the tags of that post!

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Keet: I like how she is like a dog in the fighting ring. I like that she gives her loyalty and devotion out too freely, often to people who don't deserve it, because they have shown her a modicum of kindness. I like that fighting isn't in her blood but she does it anyway because she's been told it's right. I like that she wants to be told what to do because it's easier than thinking for herself or figuring out who she actually is, and why should she trust her instincts anyway, her mind full of holes?

Yonder: It is always deeply, deeply fun to play with (and play as) a character who can't ever leave well enough alone. They are full of cowardice and they fear many things, often for very good reason, but they are also a person in whom fear breeds a morbid curiosity. They want to study and spite the things that scare them, get the drop on them...even if it means some less than safe self-experimentation.

Aisling: She is trying, so hard, to let go of the feeling of being trapped, and has been trying for years, and it is simply not working, and it makes her unfriendly, and she still panics, and she still avoids and snaps at people, and she still guards herself more than she has to, but she's trying still.

Onyx: They are honestly my only truly, irrevocably evil OC and I love that for them. Even after they accomplish their exact goal they are simply too far gone to ever not be mad with power again and I think that's really sexy. Also bones are hot.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Keet: No idea who they are or if they are even alive.

Yonder: It was warm, while their parents were still living. Yonder loves them, still. Yonder pities them, as they pity everyone who died believing that the higher powers could ever be benevolent, in life or death. Yonder is angry with them, for going where they can't follow--maybe where they can never follow, since who knows where they'll be going after they die? Not, likely, to the same place the souls of their parents went.

Aisling: With their birth parents? Weird, distant. Aisling probably wouldn't characterize their childhood as neglectful, since it's what they knew, but like, her parents more or less came into the picture as they liked and left the siblings to raise each other. She doesn't have contact with them now. However, Cassius is all but her adoptive father and is hands-down the person she is the most open and upbeat with. Both of them have been through a lot together and love and respect each other very much.

Onyx: Hasn't really come up, but "indulgent" is the word that comes to mind, in the way that upper class families can be, which is to say largely in material ways. Onyx had everything they needed to make it in the world as they grew up.

ask me more about my ocs pls pls pls

[gimmethatagustd]

listen. oh queen of life-ruining banter. i come to you on my knees because i require frenemies hatefucking with tae. featuring all the banter. and him being a menace. no this is not self-indulgent at all wdym sdlfjsldkfj - congrats again on your milestone :')))

WANNA FUCK ON CAMERA | KTH

You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s hipster, wannabe-photographer ass. You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid way of getting under your skin and sticking in your brain.  

» pairing: taehyung x reader

» genre: BTS | 18+ | frenemies to lovers | smut

» wc/date: 3.3k | July 2022

» warnings: fingering | nudes (ig??) | unprotected vaginal sex | spit | tae is annoying

» notes: I’M SO SORRY THIS ENDED UP JUST BEING A FULL FUCKING PWP ONE SHOT KJDKFHS also i def didn’t proofread this enough so sorry 🥴

» masterlist | ao3 | send me ur thots 👅

» what was jai listening to? camera - dj drama ft. 1st fkl, lil uzi vert, mac miller, & post malone

The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles (mini-series) Masterlist

If Kim Taehyung placed his grimy hands on the small of your back one more time you were quite literally going to rip them off. 

“Babe, we didn’t take a picture together yet.” Before you could react, there was a bright flash of light that formed black holes in your vision. A sleek film camera was the culprit. Not unfamiliar, you’d fallen victim to Taehyung’s “artistic endeavors” on more than one occasion. 

“Babe?” 

Your spotty eyes grew wide as you quickly turned back to the large man stuck in between you and Taehyung. You’d caged him into the corner of the living room away from the rest of the bustling bodies crowding the apartment you shared with Hoseok. From the moment your roommate introduced you to Namjoon at the start of the party, you were on a mission to get a good grip of his head in between your thighs. 

“No, no, no,” you shook your head, waving your arms in an “X” to ward off Taehyung’s evil. “We are not like that, at all. Gross, no. I don’t even know why he’s over here.” You hissed that last part with gritted teeth and shoved an elbow into Taehyung’s ribs. 

“We came to this party together, babe. What are you talking about?” Taehyung’s mouth morphed into a deep pout. Your’s, on the other hand, hung open like a fish. 

“Excuse me? This is my fucking apartment!”

You watched with growing frustration as Taehyung’s pout curved into a sweet smile. He was an abscess aching your teeth.  “Babe, you’re so cute when you joke around.” 

“Ummm… I think I’m going to go.” 

You both turned to look at the large man stuck in between you. He avoided both of your gazes; instead, his gentle eyes searched the depths of the room, looking for a way out. 

“Namjoon, wait,” You reached out to grab his forearm, “Just ignore him, he’s an idiot.” 

Namjoon gave you a soft, tight smile. “It’s okay, I don’t want to bother you.” He didn’t give you a second glance once he disappeared deeper into the apartment. 

You spun around on your heel and jabbed your finger against Taehyung’s chest. “Listen here, TaTa. If you don’t stop cockblocking me all fucking night, I swear to God.” 

“You swear to God what? What are you going to do?” Taehyung cocked his head to one side and you hated how hot it was to watch his bottom lip disappear between his teeth. He raised his eyebrows at you, tilting his head back a bit so he looked at you down the sharp bridge of his cute little freckled nose. 

He knew you wouldn’t do anything. There was nothing for you to do. 

He was such a piece of shit. 

“Why did Hobi invite you,” you muttered, pushing past Taehyung. You made very little ground before he was snatching your wrist in his large hands. “Can you please leave me alone? I’m not drunk enough for your shit right now.” 

“Let me get my beautiful model a drink, then.” 

“You are the most arrogant, conceited, cockiest person I have ever met in my entire life.” The grin that bloomed across his face was the exact opposite of what you wanted to see, but everything your body was being pulled towards. 

“Thank you.” 

With a huff, you shook your hand from Taehyung’s grip and continued swimming your way through the sea of people trashing your apartment. Leave it to Hobi to throw a massive party to celebrate “the beginning of his birthday month” without bothering to ask you. When he knew you hated most of his friends, Kim Taehyung in particular. How he’d managed to wiggle his way into your friend group was beyond you. Probably because he was hot, and hot people could get away with everything. 

Well, you didn’t think he was hot, obviously. Other people did. Not you. Nope. 

“Do not follow me.” You threw the command over your shoulder, praying to the lord that he would grow a brain and listen to you. Breaking free of the last throng of people, you walked the hallway until you got to your bedroom, Taehyung hot on your heels. You tried to slam your bedroom door shut but Taehyung had the toe of his boot wedged in the doorframe. He wrapped a hand around the edge of the door and pried it open just enough to slip his lithe body inside. The click of him locking the door made your spine shudder. 

“You’re so fucking stupid, Kim. Why don’t you go find someone to suck your dick and keep your nose out of my business? I’ll even let you use my bathroom.” Arms crossed against your chest. Chin jutted out. 

Taehyung snickered, keeping his focus on wiping away a smudge mark on the surface of his camera lens. “Bothering you gives me infinite more pleasure, believe it or not.” He looked up to meet your gaze. “And you know how much I love chasing pleasure.” 

By this point your anger was hardly well-contained. As you flipped through every scenario in your head you were finding fewer options to get him out of here. Murder may have been the only option, actually. 

“God I love how hot you look when you’re pissed.” Taehyung had the audacity to sit down on the edge of your bed, his long legs spreading like the space-hogging man that he was. 

“Take a fucking picture then. It’ll last longer.” 

“Ooh, you’re so clever, so edgy.” Despite his taunts, he did what you said, quickly snapping another picture of you. You flipped him off. “Glad you’ve finally agreed to model for me. How do you feel about nudes?” 

“Get the fuck out of here.” 

“Not even just a topless one?” 

“I would never, in a million years, even if my life depended on it, get any amount of naked in front of you.” 

“That sounds like a fun challenge, doesn’t it?” He got up from your bed, leaving the camera to rest on your fluffy comforter. His amber eyes dropped to watch your lips, the edges of his own lips curling slightly when you backed up against your dresser. A bottle of hair product tipped over and rolled off the dresser, thudding against the floor. 

“It’s not a challenge, Taehyung. It’s merely a fact.” 

“Look at what you’re wearing. You’re already halfway there.” Taehyung shrugged. He ran his index finger along the skin of your midriff exposed by your crop top. Reaching your belly button, he dragged his finger downwards until he landed on the zipper of your shorts. “Don’t act like you’re not desperate. The way you were hanging all over that guy said enough.” 

“Fuck off,” you said in an exhale. You made no effort to push him out of the way; this was one of many mistakes. 

“Hmm…” You practically felt the baritone vibration of Taehyung contemplating your comment, the hum rumbling from his throat. “Okay.” He took a step back and sunk onto your bed with his camera resting beside him. 

“What do you mean, okay?” You closed the gap he’d created and stared down at him with your hands on your hips. “You can’t just say okay.” 

The tiniest of smirks lifted the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, but he held it in as best he could. Controlling his eyes was another thing; he let his gaze travel the length of your body. “Am I not giving you what you wanted?” 

“Well, yes.” 

“Then what’s the problem?” 

You opened your mouth, but immediately snapped it shut. Taehyung leaned back on his palms with his broad chest on display and his legs spread. How had you ended up standing between them? He tilted his head up slightly jutting his chin out at you while his eyes continued to examine you. Dissect you. His gaze felt razor sharp on your searing skin. 

“Just admit it. You want me. It’s obvious how I affect you.” You felt your stomach flip as Taehyung ran his fingers through his hair, though a few curls decided to bounce back over his forehead. “One simple kiss and you’d be begging for me.” 

You absolutely did not want him. Had you thought about what those piercing eyes would look like from between your thighs? Maybe. But who hadn’t?! It was a natural consequence of being “friends” with Taehyung.

“You’re an idiot.” Another glare was shot his way when the stupid smirk returned. 

“Prove it then. Prove you don’t care.” 

If there was anything you hated more than this idiot, it was being doubted. Fuck this guy for wasting your time, invading your space, and then insulting you in your own house. 

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll cut your balls off,” you hissed. 

“I’m so scared,” Taehyung said with a lick of his lips. You wanted to smack that mischievous glint out of his eyes. Hell, you should have. But instead you were determined to knock him off his high horse. If you weren’t going to get into a physical altercation, you were going to fuck up his ego. 

Shoving Taehyung backwards so he was once again leaning on his palms, you climbed into his lap with your hands gripping his shoulders. Before he could say anything else stupid, you brought your lips to his and tried not think about how many things had been in his mouth. 

It was clear that Taehyung was trying to prove a point because he immediately began to devour you. His hands flew up to grip your ass to pull you tight against him, making your hands slide forward so you now had your arms wrapped around his shoulders. Biting down on your bottom lip he coaxed your mouth open to slip his tongue inside. You shivered at the taste of him, sweet like the grapefruit soju he’d been drinking. Distracted by him licking at your mouth, you gasped when you felt Taehyung buck into you. He forced your hips to rock against him and spread your thighs even further apart as you straddled him. 

Eventually Taehyung broke the kiss and you welcomed the opportunity to breathe. His lips ghosted yours, the two of you panting heavily against each other’s mouths. He kept a firm hold of your ass while he guided you to continue grinding against the growing bulge in his jeans. Every drag of his zipper against your core provided enough friction to alert you that you were soaked through your underwear. All because of a guy you’d swore you weren’t affected by. 

The reminder of why this was even fucking happening made you let go of Taehyung’s shoulders and lean back slightly. What the fuck. 

“You did that way too eagerly,” he snickered once you pulled away.

“Shut up.” You reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair to tug it out of annoyance because apparently Taehyung tore down your maturity level to that of an elementary student. The moan that came out of his mouth made you freeze. He stared into your eyes with his soft lips parted and all you could hear was his erratic breathing and the pounding of your heart in your head. “Looks like you’re affected by me.”

As if you weren’t an absolute mess in your pants right now. But he didn’t need to know that. 

“I never said I wasn’t.” The intensity of his gaze was too much for you, but looking away felt like surrendering. “Are you going to admit defeat now?” 

“You’re insane,” you scoffed, determined to hold his gaze. 

Taehyung broke first. He let go of your waist and brought his hand forward to press his thumb hard against your clit through your shorts. You instinctively tightened your hold on his hair, tugging slightly. The action pulled another moan out of Taehyung and it was impossible for you to hide the way you grinded against his hand. 

“You want me. Just admit it.” 

“No,” you snapped. Taehyung raised his eyebrows as though he was shocked by your determination. You were not giving in, no matter what your body wanted. 

Even if he pulled down the zipper of your shorts. Even if he tugged on the waistband of your underwear. Even if he squeezed his hand inside your underwear to drag his fingers through your arousal. 

“Admit it.” 

Your breath hitched when you heard the wet squelch of Taehyung teasing your entrance and rolling his fingers against your clit. You couldn’t speak for fear a moan instead of words might fall out of your mouth, so you merely shook your head. 

Wrapping his other arm around your waist, Taehyung bucked into you at the same time he slipped two fingers inside of you. The force with which you bit your bottom lip to keep quiet was enough to shoot pain through your nerves. Seeing you like that and feeling your thighs tremble against his told Taehyung everything he needed to know. 

But he wanted you to say it. 

“Come on, Y/N,” he cooed a soft whisper in your ear. He curled his fingers, pressing your front wall until he found the spot that made you dig your nails into his biceps. “Just admit it and I’ll give you what you want.” 

He quickened his pace, pumping his fingers in and out of you with enough force to rock you back and forth in his lap, all the while his dark eyes locked on yours. 

“You’re a piece of shit,” you attempted to hiss but your voice broke into a loud whimper. Taehyung grinned and gave you one final thrust into your g-spot before he watched you arch into him, eyes closed and head thrown back as you moaned his name. He leaned back slightly to give him the perfect angle to snatch up his camera. You thought the bright light was probably the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life quite literally making you blind, but your pleasure quickly turned into a pterodactyl screech. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG WHAT THE FUCK!” You lunged for the camera, but he held it above your head and your legs were still too shaky to do much of anything. “Did you just fucking take a picture of me while I… while I…” You beat against his chest. 

“You looked too good not to immortalize the moment,” Satan himself said with a laugh, absorbing your punches with the cockiness of the most horrible person in the world. “If you want to try for a better shot, I still have five photos left on this film.” 

“I’m going to fucking murder you.” 

“Sure, you can murder me. I’ll die happy now.” You felt weak in the knees once again when Taehyung popped his fingers, wet with your cum, into his mouth to suck clean. “Or you could admit that you want me and I’ll split you open the way you deserve.” 

Fuck. 

You were in big trouble. 

Taehyung’s cocky grin disappeared as you eased back down into his lap, replaced with a look of determined lust that clouded his lidded eyes. At this point, it wasn’t about admitting that he turned you on or that you wanted him. At this point, you needed him. 

“Say it and I’m yours,” he whispered. Goosebumps bloomed across your skin as he ran his hands up your sides, pushing your crop top up as he went. You lifted your arms to allow him to pull it off of you. He sucked his teeth when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra and immediately brought his mouth to your nipple. You let out a soft moan when Taehyung flicked his tongue against it, swirling a circle until it was erect and he was satisfied enough to move to the other. 

“Fuck you, Taehyung.” You clawed at his t-shirt, less gentle in your approach as you ripped it over his head. Next your fingers flew to unbutton his jeans. “I admit it, okay? Are you happy now?” Frustration made your movements frantic and you tugged Taehyung’s pants down as hard as you could, barely giving him time to maneuver around you to lift his hips. 

“Admit what?” He planted a hot kiss against your throat to muffle the deep moan that rumbled in his throat when you finally held his cock in your hand. 

“I need you, fuck!” You shimmied out of your shorts and shoved Taehyung onto his back. “Why are you such a fucking dick?” 

You grabbed his cock a bit too aggressively and Taehyung briefly watched his life flash before his eyes. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. Though he quickly got over it, hips bucking into your hand while he watched you spit on the tip and let it run down his shaft, slow and sweet. 

“Took you long enou-” Taehyung gasped when you rubbed his cock along your pussy, quickly coating him so you could sink onto his cock until your clit rubbed against his abdomen when you leaned forward. The stretch was enough that you probably should have eased yourself onto him a bit slower to avoid the head of his cock piercing your cervix the way it had, but at this point you were too pissed off to give a shit. He lifted his head to watch you roll your hips on him, the twisting sensation making his cock pulse inside you. 

“Holy fuck.” Taehyung dropped his head back onto the mattress and dug his fingers into the sheets as you began to fuck yourself on him. Sure, he’d promised to fuck you good, but you had absolutely no patience for whatever he was willing to give you. You picked up the pace, one hand squeezing his shoulder for support while the other dragged your nails down the length of his chest. You may have dug into him a bit deeper than you needed to, but the red streaks you left on his skin were more than satisfying. 

“Don’t even think about taking a picture of this,” you muttered through clenched teeth. That sweet, hot buildup of pleasure rippling through your abdomen was starting to get more and more unbearable, but you needed to know that the little creep wasn’t going to ruin a good orgasm for you by playing paparazzi again. 

Taehyung whimpered, shaking his head frantically. “I swear, oh fuck. I s-swear I won’t.” 

His babbling was both pathetic and cute, and you prayed he didn’t bust a nut before you got to. To have Kim Taehyung writhing beneath you with that tight little waist and bulging biceps, all to have him cum first?? No fucking way. 

“Good boy,” you snickered and Taehyung practically lost it right there. 

“You’re insane,” he huffed, closing his eyes once he felt you tighten around him. “Fucking insane.” 

You wanted to bitch him out some more because you definitely weren’t the insane one here, as if he hadn’t toyed with you only to immediately give in once you gave him a taste of his own medicine. But you let it go as you felt that sweet buildup in you finally snap. “Fuck, Taehyung,” you moaned, feeling his hands come up to grab your waist to guide you on top of him as he fucked you through your orgasm and your movements began to falter. Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to finally reach his release; you weren’t interested in overstimulation after the sweaty, horny mess he’d made of you. 

Leaning your forehead into his shoulder, you let your body go limp on top of Taehyung as the two of you caught your breath. 

“Don’t fuck with me anymore,” you threatened, though the post-orgasm shakiness of your voice didn’t make you sound very convincing. 

“I can fuck you again, though, right?” 

You lifted your head to see that fucking grin again and groaned, dropping your face into his neck again. “Maybe.” 

“Are you down for nudes next time?” 

“Don’t fucking push your luck, dickhead.” Your body jiggled as Taehyung laughed. There was the cocky Taehyung once again, the one you oh so loved. Something told you if there was a next time you wouldn’t have it so easy. 

The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles (mini-series) Masterlist

all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & ao3

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun?

summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

warnings: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Trauma Bonding, narcotics anonymous meetings, Strangers to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, meet-cute,

word count: 3.3K

a/n: this is completely self-indulgent and overly personal but i def recommend writing why spencer would love you as a form of therapy

read on ao3

In the blink of an eye, she was up and racing around her apartment. Her mental health was like a teeter-totter, and right now she was on her way to the top. Mania was creeping in; changing from just anxiety-induced butterflied to the feeling that she could jump off a building and survive.

That was never a good time. All she wanted was to either spend all her money, fuck a stranger or get high as shit. It made her legs jumpy and her ears ring and she couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too much.

She threw on a sweater and jeans, her hair was up in a butterfly clip and she hastily threw on her fanny pack full of everything she needed as well as a big coat, and she then left her apartment. She got to the stairs before realizing she actually needed to lock the door.

Her hands shook and she tried to slide the key into the lock, dropping them as her neighbour rushed out of the room and startled her. “Sorry,” she heard him say.

She picked up her keys and turned to look at him, “can you help me? I can’t seem to stop shaking,” she asked as she held her keys towards him.

“yes, sure,” he rushed the words out as he walked towards her, only looking at the keys, never in her eyes. But that was okay, she was never a big fan of eye contact.

He placed her keys back in her hand and took a step back, “are you alright?” he asked.

“No,” she said honestly. “I’m going to find an NA meeting.”

“Do you have one in the area? I haven’t seen you around before?”

She shook her head, surprised that he was also an addict, he didn’t look like he’s ever even smoked weed.

“No, I moved in only a little while ago on a whim, but I think it’s time I got some support,” she said as they started to walk down the hallway together. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Spencer,” he smiled softly. “I’m going to a meeting right now, actually, if you’d like to come? I won’t exactly be anonymous to you, but it’s a good one to go to if you just need one to fill the void until you find your preferred group.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I need.” She smiled at him this time as he held the door open for her. “So, have you lived around here for long?”

“For about a few years now.”

“The building is good then? I was a little hesitant but I needed to get away,” she said, this time holding the door for them to leave the building and turn down the street towards where she knew the subway was.

The moon should be out, she looked up but only sees buildings. It was the one thing she missed the most about not being in the country; seeing the stars and feeling like there was a reason to it all.

“Are you running from someone?” He asks as they start the walk down to the meeting.

“Myself,” she said softly. “I’m on disability and don’t drive and I lived in the middle of nowhere with my parents, well into my 20’s, and I needed a change so my parents surprised me by saving up money for a few month's rent and told me to follow my heart.”

“And you picked Virginia?”

“I stayed in Virginia, just moved into the city. I watch a lot of murder documentaries in my free time, I thought being near Quantico would introduce me to some interesting people, but I have yet to meet anyone from the FBI at all.”

She laughed to herself at how dumb it was that she wanted to meet a profiler like Holden Ford from Mindhunter, “either they are all very good at keeping their jobs secret or Virginia is a very large and densely populated area with a low percentage of FBI agents.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, slowing as he walked so he could look at her.

“2 months.”

“It took you two months to meet the FBI agent across the hall from you.”

“You’re kidding?” she said, stopping on the sidewalk abruptly. “I knew that apartment was calling me for a reason.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but, are you really just coincidentally my neighbour or are you secretly spying on me because you have an evil plan to kill me and my co-workers?” he's completely serious, it's almost scary.

“No offence, Spence, but for a supposed FBI agent that’s a dumb question to ask,” she said, pointing finger guns at him, “you don’t think I’ll give up my cover that easily? Do you?”

He points a finger gun back at her, “technically, I’m a doctor.”

The two of them narrow their eyes at each other, slowly walking in a circle, still facing each other with their make-believe guns trying to hold back smirks. She lowered her ‘weapon’ first. “It’s okay, doctor, don’t worry. I’m not a spy just an idiot with an imagination.”

He giggled softly, “I’ve never felt this comfortable with someone this fast.”

“Well, you are with criminals a lot, right? That would be alarming if you bonded with them,” she said, bumping her shoulder into his as they walked. “But I feel the same. I actually haven’t talked to someone in person in forever.”

“No?”

“I do most of my work and socializing online,” She felt embarrassed, but in today’s day and age, it wasn’t that weird. “I’m not very good outside or with people.”

“If it wasn’t for my job, I don’t think I would go outside very often either. My co-workers are my only friends, they’re more like my family actually.”

“That’s so wonderful to hear, found family is very important,” her smile disappeared as she thought about how alone she was. “Um, can I ask what it is you do at the FBI?”

“Behavioural Analysis.”

“Holy shit," she gasps, knowing way too much about that unit thanks to fucking Netflix, "that’s what the BSU became right? Do you work with the really fucked up shit?” she asked softly.

He laughed, “oh yeah, I really do.”

“Do you share a lot at NA?”

“Kinda, I tend to ramble about facts when I’m nervous so sometimes my short talk becomes more like a ted talk and what was supposed to be just me saying I haven’t relapsed on Dilaudid becomes a lesson on how the human brain works,” he explained, rambling just like he said he would.

She nodded along as he spoke, “funny, that was also my drug of choice.”

“Liquid or oral?”

“Oral. I was given it after I had my appendix out when I was 17. They get you started real young now, big pharma has its hand in everyone's pocket,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, “it was rough.”

He hummed in agreement. “I was held captive by an unsub with multiple personalities. One personality drugged me till I died and the other one brought me back.”

“Spencer, Holy fuck?” she stopped and stared at him so incredibly concerned for someone who just met him. She reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes, “I know I barely know you, but if you need someone to talk I’m literally always across the hall.”

“Thank you,” he smiled softly as he looked back into her eyes. “The meeting is right there across the street, do you want a coffee first? The place beside it is amazing.”

She nodded and he took her hand, looking both ways before J-walking across the street with her to buy her a coffee and a snack. Maybe that would help her stop shaking, he looked like he worried about her and she wasn't used to that at all.

He didn’t talk at this meeting, he sat in the chair beside the group leader, she sat down across from him in the circle so she could focus. When the floor was opened up to new members, Y/N stood at the first chance she got.

“Hi I’m Y/N,” she said, to which she was welcomed by the crowd.

“I’m new to the city and looking for a new home group, not sure if I’ll stay here because I know Spencer outside of here but I really just needed to come today.”

She takes a deep breath as she thinks of how to start it, opting to just explain it and let the rant go where it may.

“I’ve never lived alone before and it’s incredibly hard to occupy my time without drugs. I still smoke weed to help me sleep at night but my addiction is with Dilaudid and then Benadryl a little after having surgery in high school. I don’t know if it’s my trauma, my disability or my Autism, maybe it’s my OCD, I really don’t know, but I just feel so useless and alone and boring and lonely, the drugs used to help but they don’t anymore and I really just don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

They all looked like they understood, small smiles grew all around the circle as she took a lookout at the crowd, “Thank you for letting me get that out.”

Everyone clapped as she sat back down and wiped a tear off her cheek.

The meeting ended shortly after that, Spencer walked from his seat in the circle to where she was sitting, reaching a hand out to help her to her feet. “For the record, I think you’re funny, smart, kind and pretty. And you don’t have to be alone anymore if you don’t want to be.”

She slapped her hand into his and stood up with purpose, “Did we just become best friends?”

“I believe we did.”

The walk home was much like the walk there. They traded facts, they flirted, they laughed, she pushed him into a pole at one point, by accident as they laughed. The two of them stopping to sit at a bus bench, laughing so hard she felt like she would pee her pants right then and there.

By the time they were back on their floor, it was well after midnight. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to meetings with you.”

“Oh, why?” he looked disappointed.

“Isn’t rule 13 that you’re not supposed to want to sleep with your group members when you’re healing?”

“Wanting to and doing it are two very different things,” he corrected her as he waited at his own door.

She smirked, “you’re right. Still don’t think I can go back with you, however.”

“I’ll probably have a case tomorrow, they normally take me out of town for at least a week, but when I get back, can I see you?” he asked lightly.

“Knock on my door when you get back,” she said before standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “See you.”

“Bye.”

They waved from their doors before departing, excited by something that felt better than drugs.

—

120 hours later there was a light knock at her door, she knows exactly how long it’s been because she’s been counting and looking out the door at every noise for the whole time he’s been gone. Waiting for him like a wife whose husband went off to war, not knowing when their next correspondence would be.

“Coming,” she called, stopping to fluff her hair and straighten her glasses before she opened the door.

“Spencer!”

“Hi,” he said softly.

She took a moment to look him over, a little in shock at what she saw. He was in a plain t-shirt and track pants, he had not one, but two black eyes, bandages on his brow bone and scrapes all along his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“You should see the other guy,” he giggled softly, rolling his eyes.

“Come in, let’s sit you down.” She worried, taking him by the elbow and helping him inside.

“I’m fine, really, I’m used to this.”

“Well I’m not,” she reminded him with a nervous pout, “am I allowed to ask about it or is it classified stuff?”

He sat on the couch and patted a seat beside himself so she would join him. He rested his arm against the back of the chair so that she could slide in beside him.

“Did you hear about the child abduction in Tampa?”

“Yeah? The two boys?”

“I was trying to talk the unsub down and he dropped the gun but he grabbed me as I turned him around and punched me in the face and we fell into the ditch and I luckily managed to flip over him and get his hands behind his back and cuffed faster than I ever have before.”

“You’re amazing,” she whispered.

He laughed, “if I really was, I would have waited for backup before talking to the guy.”

“I’ve always wanted to help other people get justice but not being able to go to school makes it hard to get a job doing anything meaningful,” she whispered, ashamed of the fact she wasn’t successful like most people her age.

“Our technical analyst was hired because she was an amazing hacker, they will hire anyone who is valuable.” He shrugs and watches her face light up at the idea.

“You know what, we have meetings all this week unless there’s an emergency, if you want I can show you around the office?” he offered. “It’s not illegal for you to pass by what I’m working on and notice something I missed.”

“Spencer, I don’t even know your last name and you’re inviting me to your government job? When just last week you asked, not so jokingly, if I was a secret agent trying to kill you and that you’ve been kidnapped before?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, and what can I say?” he said shyly, “I’m trying to find excuses to see you smile all the time.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, the tips of her fingers lightly resting on his purple and yellow bruised eyes. She leaned in slowly and kissed him on the lips, so gently as if she’s afraid he’ll break or turn into a frog… he was too good to be true.

“You can see me whenever you want, Doctor Spencer Reid…”

He kissed her again, letting his hands roam her back and she trailed her free hand down his chest. She pulled back slightly to throw a leg over him carefully and sit in his lap. Holding his face in her hands now, she peppered kisses over his bruised face.

She stopped to look at him, still holding his face in her hands as his hands now rested on her hips. “I really like you, Spencer.”

“Really?”

She looks at him carefully, analyzing his response and seeing the hurt that rested deep inside of him, “I take it you’re like me?”

“What does that mean?”

“You try to not get too involved with people because no one has ever shown you true genuine interest or love, and you never think you’ll find it anyway so you push away all small acts of kindness, thinking it’s friendly because then you can’t get your hope up, just to have that person drop them?” she explained herself in a whisper.

He nodded, “you get it.”

She kissed his lips again, and then over his cheek and up to his ear, “I do.”

He looked extra sad when she pulled away, she just held his face gently as she mirrored his puppy dog eyes. Communicating with their eyes, she knew he was okay and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so she smiled.

“Want to watch a movie?” She asks softly.

He nods, looking behind her to see she doesn’t have a tv in the living room. “How?”

“In my room, the TV is on my dresser if you don’t mind sitting in my bed?”

He shakes his head in a simple no, picking her up and taking her to her room. He knew where it was purely because her apartment was just his but backwards. She laughs, holding onto him tight as she rests her head on his shoulder.

He sets her down gently, watching her move up to the headboard and wait for him. They got under the blankets and she found the remote in the sheet before she cuddled into him.

“You’re really cuddly,” she complimented him as he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He kissed the top of her head as a thank you.

“I think I’m going to end up falling in love with you, Spencer Reid,” she whispers the words, afraid of them more than his response.

“I beat you to it,” he whispers right back.

She shoots up, turning to look at him with surprise. “How?”

He looks at her like she grew two heads, “what do you mean how?”

“How did you fall in love with me? You don’t even know me?” She’s so confused, no one has ever loved her before and it’s a lot to take in.

“Y/N…” his face drops, his heart physically breaks in front of her. “I don’t know you, you're right. Not all of you, at least. I’m sure you have your hidden doors and locked cupboards but from the outside, I see you’re so beautiful, you’re radiant… your mind is lovely. You’re so kind, you’re so brave, you’re everything I wish I could be as charismatically as you are.”

She’s just swallowing over and over as she shakes her head and breathes through her nose, processing it. She’s breathing deeply then, staring off and she feels like she’s having a new kind of panic attack. A happier one, somehow?

“I don’t like myself, but if you like me I guess I must be pretty nice,” she smiles, accepting his praise and believing him. “Yeah. Thank you, Spencer.”

He smiles then, it’s cute and press-lipped and she swears he almost has dimples. His eyes are like honey and his lips are like roses. She leans in, kissing him and reaching a hand back to cup the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t know it, but he’s the first person she’s kissed in a few years. They’re soft, peck after peck as they hold each other softly, eyes open as they watch each other experience the happiness of finding someone good, finally.

“I uh, I wanted to tell you I’m almost exactly everything you described yourself as in the meeting,” he whispers against her lips, the air touching her skin gently as she absorbs the words.

“What part? My diagnosis or my self-hatred?” She smiles, okay with either really.

“Almost both, I’m pretty hard to be around.”

She shakes her head, “I invited you in for a movie, not a pity party. You can tell me everything you hate right now and then we should just share the good parts okay? Brag about yourself. Tell me what you’re proud of.”

She was really serious, keeping a stern look on her face as she spoke. He nodded, “I’m anxious all the time, I’m always worried because I’ve never had anyone to worry about me. I don’t know how to be a real person really, all I do is drink coffee and solve crimes and I barely sleep. And the only time I was relaxed and okay is when I was on drugs.”

She nodded, “it fucking sucks, doesn’t it? Like why did we get stuck like this, I don't care about peaking in high school but didn’t we deserve some kind of love and support? I’ve never understood if souls and shit are real, why did mine pick this terrible meat suit and awful traumatic path?”

She’s crying because she’s angry and because she’s never said it to anyone before. He cries because she understands. She truly knows.

“I love you,” he announces. “Just because of that.”

Taglist: @blanchardsbk @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[softer-ua]

I was thinking about how Katsuki has never seen Deku in the hospital before and how Deku might be surprised to see him, and how that would probably hurt Katsukis feelings.

Then I decided to be self-indulgent and write the scene out. It was supposed to be short but I got super self-indulgent, because I like making Katsuki feel and making it hurt 🥰

I don’t wanna be unexpected

Deku carefully cracks open his eyes slowly taking in a dark unfamiliar ceiling and the heavy aching of his limbs, he isn’t fully cast anymore but a routine stiffness that tells him he had been.

 He’s grown used to this routine over the last year, he doesn’t even bother trying to sit up. Instead, he just scans the room the best he can from his semi-horizontal position. 

Turning his head to the left he sees an empty visiting chair and a small window letting in the city’s lights. It’s the only light the room has so it must be well into the middle of the night. 

Continuing to the right he sees a small nightstand filled with get-well cards and gifts. It brings a smile to his cracked lips, he’d most certainly cry if his body had the water to spare. 

If you told Deku a year ago that he’d get into UA he might have believed you, but never in a million years would he believe you if you told him he was on friendly terms with at least 1/3 of all of UA’s hero course students. 

Sometimes that felt like the most unbelievable part of everything. Having his idol pass his legacy to him to beat an ancient evil? Crazy but within the realm of his imagination. 

Making close friends with half his class and being at a minimum a positive acquaintance to most of his peers? It was almost unthinkable for a kid who’d spent his whole life being scorned and left out by even his teachers. 

Choked up by his feelings, Deku tries to swallow the painful lump forming in his throat. He’s worried so many people and let them down by getting hospitalized yet again. 

He’s too dehydrated to cry but he can’t help the dry cracked warble that escapes him. It takes a concentrated effort to clear his throat and not break down completely. It wouldn’t be cathartic at this moment, just painful. 

A small groan from the foot of his bed pulls his attention away from reading what he could of the cards. 

What he sees doesn’t instantly register with his groggy mind. That’s not uncommon, usually, the longer he’s out the more disoriented he is upon waking, his body might have made a full recovery but the brain takes longer to re-engage with its surroundings. 

Deku doesn’t expect to see Kacchan of all people in his hospital room at all, let alone when he first wakes up in the dead of night, but the blonde tuft of hair sticking up from a familiar orange hoodie turned makeshift pillow cradled in well-toned arms makes the figure resting over the edge of his hospital bed unmistakable 

Deku would know that pale face pinched into a grimace anywhere. 

It adds to the layer of confusion he’s grown used to as part of waking up hospitalized. It also adds a layer of dread and an equal amount of relief. Things must be pretty bad if Kacchan is here, but Kacchan is here and he looks completely whole. It’s a best worst-case scenario. 

Kacchan lets out a small grunt as he pushes his face deeper into orange cotton. Deku’s heart squeezes at the sight of the blonde's obvious discomfort. 

Kacchan should be at home sleeping in a real bed, not hunched over in a visitor chair clutching a hoodie for a pillow. 

Without thinking Deku calls out “Kacchan?”, his voice just above a whisper, a selfish part of him hopes Kacchan will stay asleep a little longer. That he’ll stay where Deku can see him and knows he’s okay. But he knows it’s selfish. So he calls again a little louder, his voice hoarse and scratchy from lack of use. 

The blonde shoots up, eyes near frantic as he looks around before red irises settle their sites on him with more concern than Deku ever remembers seeing on Kacchan. Well, at least outside a fight and directed at him.

He hopes they're not about to fight, but when it comes to Kacchans temperament… well he’d be a fool to dismiss the possibility of it. 

For a moment all Kacchan does is stare at him. It makes something cold and heavy settle in his stomach. Nothing scares Kacchan, and yet he looks completely shaken. 

“Deku? Are you really awake this time?” Katsuki tries to not make his whisper sound as desperate as he feels. There’s no point getting worked up over another dream or worse a still drug-addled Deku, but this Deku seems to recognize him for the first time, and although tired his green eyes shined with a level of coherency that’s been missing for a few days now.

Katsukis’s chest grew tight seeing it. It paled in comparison to the glimmer of brilliance that usually shone in those beautiful emeralds, but when compared to the unfocused glazed look he had been sporting the last few days? Well, Katsuki thought he just might collapse with relief. 

This is what he’d been waiting for, Deku’s been physically healed for at least 2 days now but consciously he’s been pretty touch and go. “Uh, I think so?” That’s definitely not the kinda question Deku had been expecting, but he has his own question he wants to get to before they get into that. 

Pushing through the dry burning in his throat Deku rattled off the most pressing questions. “How are you feeling? Is everyone okay? Did LOV getaway? What’s going on?” 

Annoyance flashes in Katsukis’s eyes before quieting with acceptance, of course, the nerd wants to know how everyone else is and the current status. Katsuki wanted the same when he first woke up, they were heroes in training, after all. Their own lives would always take a backseat to their self-appointed responsibilities. 

“Hold on. You sound like sh– not good.” Katsuki got up and got the nerd a cup of water and then helped him sit upright, trying to decide on what to tell him. Completely missing the way Deku flushed at his uncharacteristic gentleness. 

Katsuki decided on the bare minimum. 

“I don’t wanna talk about that sh- not good fight right now. All you need to know is that everyone is fine. You’re the only one still layed up, worrying everyone half to death. You’ve been out for almost a week, you woke up a few times but you were all loopy calling people by the wrong names.” 

Calling him by the wrong name. Deku must have said an incoherent hello to half the class only sometimes guessing who he was speaking to correctly or just talking to no one at all before immediately falling back asleep. Deku had of course asked about him more than a few times but not once did the bastard see him sitting right in front of him. 

It had taken every ounce of willpower Katsuki possessed to not throttle him, but he’d promised All Might that for the sake of Auntie Inko he wouldn’t upset the nerd. 

The pride Katsuki had just momentarily taken in thinking to get Deku water, the gentleness he took help the dweeb sit up, and managing not to swear when recounting the transgressions to boot turned ashen when he saw the way Deku shied away with guilt. 

A stubborn part of him felt righteous and believed Deku should feel guilty, a larger part felt a sense of failure in breaking his promise to All Might literally the first time he actually spoke to Deku. 

“Wait, if everyone else is okay what are you doing here?” Deku feels himself relaxing despite his guilt, contentment settling in the spaces where trepidation previously roosted, he trusted Kacchan to be honest. 

If he says everything’s fine then it is, but the lack of pressing news makes Kacchan passed out at the end of his bed even more confusing. 

The painkillers he’s on make thinking feel like everything’s ruining through Windows 95’, he can practically hear his brain's fan whirring. His mind can’t really pull up fresh thoughts, just old truths, Kacchans never visited before and he apparently has no reason to now.

Katsuki sighs as he slumps back into his chair. Deku’s still clearly confused and he isn’t sure he has the energy to repeat himself right now, then considering how he failed the first time he decides might as well try.

“Everyone is fine, everything is as fine as it can be at the moment. You’re in the hospital recovering from the fight with supercharged crusty mcdusty, but you are also apparently going to be fine” Dekus staring at him like he has two heads so he keeps talking. “The league is being dealt with, I’m not talking about the fighting until tomorrow at the earliest, neither of us is in shape for that conversation and I don’t know much myself yet”

Deku’s pinch brows and slight pout tell him he’s got questions, questions he can’t answer. Anytime he even thinks about how the fight went down he feels like he’s going to explode.

Trying to reign in every ounce of self control he possesses he slumps further in his chair rubbing his face and counts to five. Then kicks Dekus hospital bed for good measure, before speaking again.

“Deku just rest, you're clearly still out of it and I don’t wanna repeat myself a third time.” Seriously how many other ways can he say everything is, by a very loose definition, fine. How much clearer can he make it that he’s not giving anything else up?

“Uh you didn’t have to repeat yourself? I believed you the first time, Kacchan” Deku couldn’t help but feel like Kacchan was purposely misinterpreting his question, but why? It shouldn’t be a hard question, he’d really only asked to make conversation and clear up some brain cobwebs.

“Then why did you ask–“ Something ugly and broken twists in Katsuki’s gut as he slowly repeated Dekus' question in his head ‘what are you doing here’.

“I just didn’t expect to see you here if you didn’t have to be.”

Deku wasn’t, hadn’t been, asking why someone was there with him but why he, Katsuki, was there. Deku wanted to know why he was here instead of literally anyone else. Deku didn’t know that Katsuki had basically taken up permanent residence in here with him, probably couldn’t see the cot laying at the foot of his bed.

White-hot rage coursed through him in an instant, after everything they went through Deku thought he’d just ditch him to some extras in scrubs? Katsuki had a bad temper on good sleep, exhausted he was ready to put Deku back in a coma.

He struggled with the feeling of his palms heating, but the second before he felt like detonating Katsuki caught Deku’s eyes in full.

As always they show everything the nerds feeling and the familiarity soothes him in a way he can’t explain. Doesn’t ever want to explain.

It used to drive him up the wall like Deku was purposely giving him messages in a language he couldn’t read. Shoving in his face how inadequate he is in comparison.

Katsuki knows now that’s not the case and over the last few months, he’s actually been learning how to read Deku for the first time in his life.

And he’s discovering that even though it’s an advanced read for him he likes the challenge and even more he likes the victorious warmth that spreads down to his toes when he can tell just what Dekus is thinking without any words.

Right now Deku does look slightly confused and yet still so open and trusting, and his crooked shy smile proves that he is actually happy Katsukis here. His confusion is just that, confusion.

Always glad to see him, always caught off guard by his presence.

As much as the familiarity soothed the recognition hurt.

A couple of months on good terms doesn’t erase all the bad years, he knows this, he’s told himself as much a dozen-plus times.

He’s never visited Deku in the infirmary or the hospital before now.

At first just because his stubborn pride insisted that he couldn’t show weakness/care for someone else because he was above them all, that he had to constantly act like Deku was below him. Even when he recognized Deku as a rival he didn’t visit, partly because of lingering pride but mostly because he felt like he didn’t deserve to.

He was too much of a coward/slave to his pride to risk being turned away.

This time he hadn’t even considered Deku might not want him, he had just selfishly insisted he stay by his side for his own peace of mind.

To see Deku wanted him here but couldn’t understand why Katsuki would want to be here himself left his fingers feeling numb as all the adrenaline drained out of him.

Deku studied Kacchan intently, his explosive rival had turned to him and risen half out his chair looking like he was about to shout at him but when their eyes locked the words had apparently died on his tongue.

Now Kacchan was just staring at him with an unreadable expression entirely unmoving after he plopped back in his seat, never breaking eye contact. It was clear now that Kacchan hadn’t understood his question at first but now he seemed lost at how to answer.

Deku wanted to wait for Kacchan to speak but experience told him he shouldn’t hold his breath.

Besides it was late, as much as he desperately didn’t want him to go, Kacchan should be safely asleep in his own room. It’d be selfish to ask him to stay.

Kacchan probably hadn’t meant to stay as late as he did, he was just prone to falling asleep wherever he was once 9 pm rolled around. Deku knew first hand that Auntie Mitsuki had a very strict bedtime policy that had long been physically instilled into Kacchans psyche.

“Kacchan, it’s late you should head back to the dorms and get some real sleep. I feel fine.” At the sudden incredulous tweak of a blonde eyebrow, Deku rushed to elaborate, “I mean I'm of course tired, and a sore but I feel whole. This is a familiar routine for me, I’m okay.”

Katsuki thought back to what he told All Might a lifetime ago, “he never considers himself”.

Here Deku was laying in a hospital bed concerned about his sleep and knowing just what he wanted/needed to hear, that Deku was okay, straight from the source.

It’s all he’d wanted to hear for almost a week now and he had to press his lips shut into a tight line to keep the embarrassing whimper he felt clawing at his throat from escaping.

“I know that you can go to the front desk and the attendant will call for a UA shuttle, doesn’t matter the time, Todoroki has left as late as 3 am”

Oh if that didn’t have something ugly snapping its jaws and thirsty for blood inside Katsuki. At heart, he’s always been explosively petty.

As much comfort as Todoroki being almost equally worried about Deku had been over the last week anytime anyone so much as even accidentally hinted at the ways Katsuki had failed to be there for Deku before now had him seeing red.

Reminding him how others had stepped up and into the places, Katsuki felt he should have been, felt like a slap in the face. But coming from Deku the anger he felt turned inward.

Where he usually saw red, all he saw was green. Not the warm emerald hue of Deku sitting in front of him, but dark bitter jealous green.

Petulant ‘whys’ clawed at his ribs. Why did people who’d only know Deku for a year have a more prominent roles in the nerds life than he did after knowing him forever, why did Deku have to like those extras so damn much, why didn’t he realize sooner how important Deku was, why did he have to care about any of that at all, why did Deku have to bring up that goddamn candy cane, why did Deku want to send him away, why wasn’t Deku even half as desperate to stay by his side as he was, why why why?!

He voiced none of these thoughts, instead just continued staring grumpily ahead. Hoping Deku didn’t notice how heavy his breathing had gotten or how he tightened his grip on the chair's armrests.

Deku took another sip of water before continuing. “I’m happy you’re here, really, it means a lot to me.” He let a genuine full smile slip on his face, he didn’t want Kacchan thinking he wasn’t grateful for his presence.

He really was happy that Kacchan was the first person he got to see upon waking up.

Circumstantial or not the fact that Kacchan was here with him now was a deep comfort to him and a pleasant way to wake up. Usually, it was to his classmates' forced positivity or his overly fussy weeping mother and that never got easier to deal with. As confusing as the change was it was a nice one. And he told him as much.

Why did Deku always know exactly what to say to people? When he, Katsuki Bakugo, couldn’t say anything at all.

Normally the instant relief his body felt at Deku’s words just pissed him off, but tonight exhaustion took its toll.

He felt the tears he’d been fighting all week fall hot and sticky down his cheeks, embarrassment shame and guilt tinted his face a splotchy pink. When he felt the lump in his throat give way to a choked hiccup he didn’t just crack, he shattered.

Ugly sobs racked through him and he buried his face in his hands and dug his fingers into his hair.

Why was the only familiar part of this him breaking down in front of Deku? He’s known Deku his whole life. He should have been the first and last person in Deku’s hospital room every time from the very beginning if for nothing more than obligation. Any one of those times could have been the last time.

Deku would have slipped away from him, and Katsuki would have been one of the last ones to know.

He hadn’t because he knew it’d always end up like this, him blubbering like a baby over Dekus hospital bed and he couldn’t risk it before. Too desperate to keep that little voice inside him that picks apart his every sign of weakness quiet.

It never goes away and UA had made it so much louder, he couldn’t give more feed to the fire. That’s exactly what Deku does to him.

On bad days Katsuki feels the little claws of insecurity scratching at his brain comparing him to Deku, that Deku’s surpassing him because he’s weak and he’s going to get left behind, he’s going to be forgotten.

On equally bad days he surpasses Deku completely and the voice switches gears, telling him he doesn’t deserve Dekus praises. That he’s a hopeless brat with an oversized ego and Deku’s words are empty. Katsuki hasn’t earned them, and he never will, Deku’s just placating him.

Katsuki doesn’t have good days.

Why did he even care though, Deku has seen him cry a dozen times and never once has it changed anything, hell Deku cries all the time.

But Deku’s never been debilitated by crying the way he is, Deku always keeps moving like he doesn’t even notice he’s crying. But he, Katsuki, can barely breathe around his tears.

Because he’s weak and a coward and everything Dekus not. Deku’s light years ahead of him in being a better person and by proxy a better hero and he’s never going to catch up.

Delirious with exhaustion Katsukis thoughts keep spiraling out of his control, growing more and more vicious.

He doesn’t even deserve to call himself Dekus' rival, Deku’s going to leave him behind, Deku’s going to keep taking on the world by himself because he’s not strong enough to fight alongside him, Dekus going to get himself killed and it’s all his fault. He’s hyperventilating through his sobs now.

“Wha- Kacchan, what’s wrong?” Deku suppressed a small groan at stretching stiff unused muscles as his scrambled brain had him lurch forward to grasp Kacchans wrists, he can see where blunt nails dig into his scalp. Gently as he could, Deku replaces callused hands with his crooked ones.

“Hey look at me.” He lifted Kacchans head to meet his eyes and took deep slow dramatic breaths encouraging Kacchan to match his breathing. Red eyes frantically scanned his face and clutched his wrists tightly like a lifeline, desperate that Deku doesn’t pull away.

Slowly their breathing synchronized, the tears kept flowing though, Deku was certain he was crying now too but he made no move to confirm this. He just kept watching Kacchan, keeping his own breathing steady. This wasn’t the first time he’s had Kacchan match his breathing, but it is the first time he’s been this close and this obvious about it. Then again Kacchans never looked this desperate.

In the past when he’s noticed Kacchans breathing has sped up and his gaze looks far away he’ll nonchalantly sit down next to him like he hasn’t noticed Kacchans problem at all, then he’ll practice his own breathing exercises a little louder than would be considered polite. Consciously or not Kacchan follows suit.

He’d learned the tactic when he was 7 from his mom helping one of their neighbors on the way to the store, a very nice lady he called Auntie Kay. She had some kind of disorder that gave her bad anxiety and had apparently forgotten to take meds that morning and got overwhelmed by the noise. His mom used to be an assisted living caregiver before she became, well his mom, so she had experience with this kind of thing.

Later she explained what she’d been doing. That you're someone they have a long history of trusting you don’t want to get in their space, just reaffirm to them that they’re safe and try to get them to slow their breathing, focus on breathing out.

1, because It’s hard to concentrate if you don’t feel safe. 2, the human body doesn’t know if it has enough oxygen, it knows if it’s getting enough air and if it has too much carbon dioxide in it, and you breathe out carbon dioxide.

That day his mom was like a mini hero, saving the day with a smile. It made him more aware that there’s more to being a hero than just fighting villains, it’s about saving people.

He can’t fight villains from a hospital bed, he could still be there for others. He could be there for Kacchan.

After a minute he hesitantly thumbed away the freshest tears but that seemed to just make things worse as another sob racked through Kacchan and he tightened his grip on his wrists. It wasn’t until Kacchan finally spoke and he reflexively snapped his jaw shut that Deku realized he’d been making soft shushing noises.

Katsuki tightened his grip on Deku’s wrists as he choked on one last sob thinking that Deku was finally pulling away, but when he just continued to thumb his tears away and making soft little noises he let himself believe Deku wasn’t going to dismiss him again.

Katsukis never let himself be comforted like this by anyone, not even as a child, but he was too tired to fight it, too distraught to care about how selfish he’s sure he’s being, and too certain that Deku was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

He’s confronted his own mortality a few times this year but none of it had compared to being confronted in real-time with Dekus. Living with Deku so close to death over the last week had taken its toll on everyone but Katsuki especially had been unraveling more and more each day.

The first day he’d been ready to bring the entire hospital down if he didn’t get to Deku’s side immediately. It only got worse from there.

He’d grown more cantankerous than he’d ever been, but the fire in him had been dying out. By the time Deku first woke up and didn’t recognize him the only thing he’d say to anyone was the same mumbled shut up, only sometimes accompanied by half-hearted sparks daring anyone to try to remove him from the room.

Auntie Inko was distraught too but she had let All Might take her home after that first visit and encouraged her to rest there saying something about how no mother should have to see this side of hero work or whatever.

The doctors were probably just worried about what all those tears might do to their equipment, Katsuki certainly had been even if he hadn’t said so.

Katsuki had promised Inko he’d stay by Deku’s' side, she’d looked conflicted about something but they both silently agreed that was a discussion for another day.

Katsuki doesn’t know what to say now but desperately feels like he needs to say something.

He’s terrified it’ll all come out wrong and freak Deku out, Deku who just woke up for real for the first time! He’s terrified of saying nothing and losing his chance to say anything at all because Deku just woke up for real for the first time in a week!

Deku deserves to hear him apologize for everything, but he doesn’t feel like he’s ready to be forgiven and if Deku doesn’t forgive he doesn’t know what’ll happen to him, he may very well implode.

If Deku turns him away then the kindest thing the universe could do for him would be to ignite every nitroglycerin-soaked cell in his body and just let him go. But the universe isn’t kind and will instead make him force himself out of this room and into a UA shuttle and into a life where everything green fades into bleak gray.

“Kacchan, your muttering” Deku says with the softest smile Katsuki has ever seen, and he feels like all his broken pieces have begun melting.

Deku stays silent, thumbs rubbing gentle circles. He seems content with doing nothing more than smiling at him until the sun comes up. And Katsuki feels another sob rip through him as he forces himself to speak.

“I meant it when I told you to keep your eyes on me.” The desperation in his own voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard to him. “I want you to know to look for me, and that I’ll be there. Even outside of heroing. I want you to expect me at every turn, forever. I don’t wanna be unexpected”

Deku leans forward and Katsuki thinks he’ll stop breathing all over again until their foreheads bump together. Deku’s looking right in his eyes, and he’s so close Katsuki's eyes can barely focus on him. They just stay like that for a small eternity while Katsuki’s heart beats wildly for entirely different reasons. One’s he’s not sure he’s ready to understand.

“Okay, Kacchan”

[leamy-world]

Reaction to The Devil Judge (spoilers for ep. 9 & 10)

It’s been a while since i’ve last been on tumblr, but i got invested in this drama every week & the fandom’s analyses to not talk about it sometime! (Last time i was hooked, it was with Beyond Evil and i watched it by the time the finale already aired so i didn’t suffer from the weekly wait!)

So here i am, this is mainly self-indulgent with essay-long interpretations of some scenes in a totally random order, but i’d love to interact with whoever reads this if they want to react!

I’m sorry for the potential awkward phrasings, english is not my first language!

- The recap was nicely done and tied everything together, it made me realize so many things happened since the beginning! The repetition didn’t make me skip it, the narration was dynamic & fun.

- The ‘power display’ & threat Yohan showed to Soohyun (by lashing out at Juk Chang and strangling him, as proxy for Soohyun, in front of her while staring at her) were something …! She answered in the same fashion, passing by him saying she will ‘arrest Juk Chang’. I wonder how their next encounters will unfold.

- Many people already pointed this out, but Soohyun’s decision to leave Elijah, a minor, alone in her car (with its doors open, daring to tell her to stay there when she has no other choice anyway) + stop the gang alone and unannounced off duty was irresponsible. Anyways, i wonder if she will interact again with Elijah because they were adorable, i would miss it!

- The conversation between Soohyun & Gaon at his apartment (ep. 10) was interesting on both parts: 

It sounded casual, but Soohyun wanted to see where he stood in the Kang family and make sure he wasn’t in Yohan’s plans (i hope she didn’t seriously mean the ‘weird’ comment about Elijah, it’d be sad since Elijah enjoyed her company!).

Gaon was anxious professor Min told her about their last conversation (i think she’ll talk to him in the next eps). He also indirectly defended the Kangs by associating himself with them (« I’m pretty sure i’m just as weird ») and voiced his concern about Yohan, speaking more to himself than following the conversation at hand. 

When Soohyun changed the subject with the ‘i’m jealous’ bit, maybe it was to brighten the mood with a light-hearted comment, hoping Gaon would follow. And by the look of her pause right after, it seemed she was also expecting GO’s ‘positive’ reaction to her jealousy, giving in to the kind of teasing/flirt they have in their friendship. But deep down, it was also to voice her true unease about Gaon’s involvement with Yohan she had since the beginning and ep. 8. 

It’s obvious to us she meant she was jealous of Yohan. And GO could’ve understood it this way too, since she confessed to him multiple times and her feelings must be known to him (i think he takes it as a ‘joke’ given how many times she confessed and each time when he was crying, so maybe he thought, very reasonably, it was to cheer him up? I also guess he’s too absorbed by his current worries about the Kangs and her potential suspicion, to notice her attempts). 

But instead of that, he’s not in the same line of thoughts at all and picks up on the « rich », musing on what makes one’s existence rich, thinking Soohyun was envying Yohan’s position and life and proving her he’s indeed in a whole different world, empathizing with Yohan. 

She then looked like her face fell, until her eyes lit up again when he was about to admit she was precious to him along with his family.

By the way, this scene picks up right where we were left off in ep. 8, when Gaon tends to his plants:

« - Are you back for good? - Not really. They need some looking after. - You should come back, not drop by. This is where you live. - Someone there needs some taking care of too. - Take care of your own self, please. - What about me? I’m living a shamelessly comfortable life. Soohyun. - Yes? - What are you thinking about? - Nothing. By the way, Gaon … » (i wonder what she was going to say!)

Lost in thoughts, Gaon’s mixed emotions when he said Yohan was not rich (« he’s not rich. If you get to know him, Kang Yohan is really poor. ») were very well depicted by Jinyoung’s acting: the soft voice and the ghost of a smile that convey understanding and endearment, leaning on his counter in a relaxed stance, but also at the same time the stare lost in the space, maybe to all the memories tied to the Kangs and Yohan, and the tension in his left lip corner by the end of his sentence which betray his sadness and empathy with Yohan’s life. After this, when he became aware of Soohyun’s gaze, it’s like his bubble popped. He looked surprised with his eyes widening, and was fidgeting a little, then changed the subject to himself.

And « I have you, Soohyun » sounded truly grateful but also sad and conflicted, GO lets his worries show when she’s gone, maybe wondering if they would be bound to be against each other one day as he continues to side with Yohan, menacing to jeopardize their friendship to the point of no return. In these kinds of stories you expect these kinds of twists, but i grew fond of the cast send help

- I loved how Yohan’s confession to GO about his brother was filmed: the camera faced head-on his pain, slipping unbeknownst to him through the façade he always showed to protect himself. But this time, despite his (late) attempts to dismiss these feelings both for him and Gaon to regain composure (the hand gestures to hide his tears, pretending to be tough with the  « there’s no such things as innocent people », drinking away his sorrow with a bitter laugh that rings hollow), all this façade fades out in front of Gaon literally by being blurred out in the shot, as if he clearly sees his pain through (his silhouette appearing clear-cut between Yohan’s gestures). I know it’s a pretty classic shot but it fit well with this scene. He clenches his jaw in the next shot, moved by Yohan opening up. 

- The dinner scene was really moving …! Especially when you put the colder tones the kitchen had when we first saw Yohan have dinner by himself next to this scene, full of light in contrast! I wonder when the OST playing will be released, it was so beautiful and reminded me of My Mister’s OST (especially Rainbow!). I look forward to the lyrics, because most of the time the OST gives more layers & depth to the story and the characters! (please don’t let it be about Yohan’s budding feeling of a true ‘home’ ;;) I didn’t realize it upon my first watch, but Gaon really took the cutlery hostage, it cracked me up!

- The parallels in this show will be the end of me: Yohan went from the « i’m so sick of this place » (ep. 5) to asking K to drive him « home » with a delighted smile. 

- I liked the parallel of Yohan’s reaction to GO/Sun-Ah sitting in his office chair, impeding on his space (he reminds SA to stay out of it, the first time politely, the second time almost grimacing, his jaw clenched: « Just because you’re the head of the OSC doesn’t mean you can barge in like this (…) So please stop barging in like this. », while he says nothing to GO)

- At the beginning of ep. 10, we have Yohan saying he doesn’t like «  hanging out with people » & by the end of it, Soohyun saying « My childhood’s best friend is hanging out with a rich guy ».

- These two episodes gave more insight and nuance into Sun-Ah’s character, which was very nice ; and also Cha Kyung-Hee’s comeback (and her last confrontation with Sun-Ah!!!!)

- The people following Juk Chang also targeted sexual minorities according to the subs i had, i wonder if it will be addressed again sometime in the drama. 

- I loved Elijah’s « hacking » technique scene, i felt proud too! I always look forward to her scenes (and Kkomi’s too haha)! And her reaching out Gaon’s shoulder for the first time ;;

- The ‘humans lose their minds when they think they’ve lost what they have’ ……… repeated twice by YH ………… It will hit hard and all those lines will come right back at us viewers, but i’m not prepared haha! And also for the ‘if you want revenge, don’t hesitate’, i hope it doesn’t foreshadow a future revenge Gaon will execute without hesitation aaaaaa

Also, what lawyer Ko said about himself in ep. 8 may apply to Yohan’s case by the end, will he atone for what he did someday? (« I’m no longer a lawyer. I’m just a criminal. When all this comes to an end, I’ll pay for what i did. »)

- I really loved Yohan’s efforts to take into consideration both Elijah’s (he refrained himself from acting rashly like the last time she went out and listened to her) and Gaon’s feelings (stopping him from endangering himself recklessly, not forcing him onto the revenge path lest he’d regret it afterwards, and helping him to face the truth rationally). 

- « She’s hungry for affection. No matter how much you hate the world and the people in it, you can never live alone. You always need someone to rely on. As long as you’re a human being. » Many people commented on it, Gaon must speak from his own experience and empathizes with both Elijah and Yohan’s situation. These two episodes showed how Gaon cares for the Kangs more openly, and i live for it! 

- Give me that domestic scene where Gaon plays cards with YH, the nanny and Elijah! And also more K and lawyer Ko scenes!

- Jinjoo’s and Gaon’s intervention in the trial were gold! And Satie’s Gnossiennes rearrangement playing in the background during Juk Chang’s speech, it’s the cherry on the cake haha

- By the way, there was also an arrangement of Rachmaninoff’s piano concerto no. 2 during the first charity event Yohan went with Jinjoo in the earlier episodes, it was also beautiful!

- GO’s Awkward Smile. I have no words, it is now forever imprinted on my mind.

Have a nice week and take care!

[blackwaxidol]

Despite being reborn as a figuratively orphaned and precocious thing, Valin has always pined for some kind of parental figure to feel beheld and seen by.

It is why he latched onto Calus so much and subsequently became so utterly, inconsolably heartbroken at the Emperor's sudden vanishing. He felt abandoned and worthless in a way he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. What had happened? What had he done wrong? Where is Calus, his conduit for reifying approval? Everything he'd ever been given felt hollow, derisive. He had done something terrible, he was certain of it. How could he apologise? How could he beg for forgiveness? He felt lost, reduced to hysterical bedlam with his face in his hands and the jewels from his treasured weaponry torn away and scattered at his feet. He didn't deserve them.

Maybe it is strange to say that he loved Calus, but he is so desperate for some kind of validation and love from a grander, wiser, older thing than him. He wants to be acknowledged and appreciated and held dearly and warmly for a very long time by something that might see him as a sort of soft little progeny that can be kept close as a nestling to be loved for an eternity.

The need to curl up and feel protected and safe in a childish way unbecoming of his grand self... he feels silly for it. Here he is, Valin of Sao, a beautiful, ancient cosmic force of power... shaking and crying and hunched over, grasping at his own arms in an attempt to soothe himself as if he is 6 months old again and trying to find comfort in the torn, frostbitten linings of his Techeun regalia.

Suicide wasn't enough, he wanted to give his Ghost to Calus on a platter just for the thought of making him happy. He knew what delighted him, what amused him to his very core.

"The distant ancestors of your tribe gorged themselves on great feasts, yet expelled them so that they may dine further in abundance.

"I see these marks of worship upon your own hands. Your kind are a gracious people, do not feel shame in your scars.

"Come, I shall give you any feast you desire. Indulge to excess, for I am a generous God."

And he would, for Valin was glad to do this for him. The scars on his knuckles grew worse, but they made the Emperor happy, so he was happy.

Valin of Sao is a creature of habitual self-destruction, he is the zenith of learned helplessness. Everything he is, every turbulent part of his soul, he is willing to subdue or cast away entirely so that he might be palatable or desirable. He will destroy himself psychologically if he thinks it may be appealing to do so, it is his oldest of rituals, a habit formed so early on in his life that he knows no other way to live.

Valin is a hopeless romantic, in a sense. Every man he has ever been at the mercy of he'd quickly grown to vie for their affection, no matter how ruinous. Perhaps it was delusional attachment. He does not hate his former patrons, in a desolate world they gave him everything he could ever want. He was a nymphomaniac, he still is, and he might always be. He hated it, no matter how natural it made his actions feel, he still wanted to die.

His mantle as Warlord was spurred by rage. Nothing was given to him but the opportunity to plunge a blade into the back of an Iron Lord who'd called upon him. There was nothing that made Valin pick him as a sacrificial lamb, truly. It felt right, and when a Ghost appeared over the crumpled form of their charge, Valin killed it too.

It isn't a story he has ever told anyone, but it was pried out of him nonetheless. He is unsure of how much of it was of his own volition, nor why he felt so compelled to tell it, but he remembers how much it made the Emperor smile.

"Ah! Risen from ashes! Scorned by everyone, plotted against, the world unsated by your boundless generosity...

"You were brought to ruin, and vowed to take it all from them. You sheltered the great people who loved you like a God, who did not turn against you even when you were branded as evil...

"We are not so different, you and I."

[atlantis-scribe]

Mcshep as Destiel

first thing's first: this ask is evil. cursed. this is the kind of text that even Dr. Daniel Jackson, successor of the great Evelyn 'I-don't-believe-in-cursed-texts' Carnahan-O'Connell, who canonically possesses 0.1% self-preservation instincts, will not touch with a ten-foot pole.

no fandom archivist / enthusiast worth their salt would want to wake up in the morning & immediately sustain massive psychic damage upon seeing a notification like this:

understood? cool.

now that we have those disclaimers out of the way, dear anon, we can play ball.

let me preface my actual response by saying that my experience with Supernatural & Tumblr’s Golden Ship has been unorthodox, at best.

when spn first came out, I was a child, but a child with an indulgent father who cultivated my love for cinema & urban fantasy. we got into Supernatural wayy before Castiel was a thing. we watched it diligently as soon as the newest episode became available in my country. my dad would quiz me on the case’s salient points, and we’d talk about the monster-of-the-week & how it compares to the creatures in our own folklore. Supernatural was, to some extent, educational. heh. (yes, i was very much a minor. yes, my parents were pretty lax on the exposure to blood & gore. I grew up fine, all things considered.)

we stopped our religious following of the show around the time the Leviathan storyline was unfolding. my father & I loved Bobby, and we were also starting to notice a lack of focus in terms of plot & direction. the rest of my exposure then to SPN was courtesy of Tumblr, which I managed to compartmentalize thanks to my other hyperfixations with high fantasy & sci-fi shows.

BASICALLY, what I’m saying is that I know Supernatural like a kid knows their local urban legends. and that, plus my current hyperfixation on All Things Stargate, has been a cause of many a crossover & fusion ideas.

but there’s a reason I’ve been dragging my feet when it comes to actually making content for these plotbunnies (and why I have yet to include spn for my McShep AU series). it’s because the whole thing is bound to be chaotic.

(by the way, dearest anon, what the actual heck made you send me this cursed ask? exactly which blog posts made you go, “ah. this Kit person loves Stargate & McShep, and would absolutely know something about Heller stuff.” WHERE did i go so wrong??)

ACTUAL RESPONSE:

it’s sooo easy to have Rodney as Castiel + Sheppard as Dean. (bitchy, sanctimonious fandom favorite? self-loathing, repressed, & too-pretty-for-his-own-good green-eyed action hero? practically cardboard cut-outs)

but here’s the thing, my lovelies: Kit thinks otherwise (and yes, I just referred to myself in third person. “mentally unstable as a fox“ and all that jazz)

1. Rodney is Dean because while Sheppard’s Daddy Issues are more overt & present in-text, Rodney’s are closer to the Winchester Kind of Daddy Issues (in that there’s pressure-from-beyond-the-grave to carry on with the ‘family business’. in this hypothetical AU, it could be hunting, it could be science, take your pick, but Rodney-as-Dean has taken it upon himself to be the Good Son, and it’s 99.9% because of Dad McKay.)

“This is not what dad would've wanted.”

"Shared credit, huh? We'll do this together? Dad'll be so proud."

- 3x08, McKay & Mrs Miller

2. Rodney & Dean both have a kid sibling who wants out (who wants a normal life outside the family business, dammit.) really no need to elaborate on that. Jeannie is Sammy. I dont make the rules.

3. Rodney & Dean both have that one-track-mind drive to do what they think they do best, their only purpose for existence, to the point that they cannot see anything beyond that One Thing (science, hunting/protecting their younger sibling) because that’s how they were raised. their perceived Only Talent becomes their whole identity, and when that is taken away from them, there’s (at least according to them) virtually nothing left.

4. Sheppard is Castiel because of the gay coding. c’mon.

5. Sheppard is Castiel because grace & ATA gene can be metaphors for each other, and I think that’s pretty cool.

6. Sheppard is Castiel because they’re both Soldiers who rebelled & disobeyed shitty orders because it went against everything they are & have ever believed in. there was a fundamental disconnect between what they’d been asked to do & what makes them them, so they went up against The Man, and said, No.

7. Rodney is Dean because they refuse to believe in a higher power that governs everything they do. they tell the universe what’s what, not the other way around.

8. Rodney is also Dean because the only exception to this is Sheppard & Castiel. if the higher power (God / Ancients) had a hand in the creation of this Being, then maybe it’s good for something, after all.

9. Sheppard is Castiel because they share an inability to say no to this one person they keep having to save over and over again, even when said person’s ideas are shitty and risks everyone & everything in this plane of existence.

10. McShep as Destiel will have Rodney McKay as a stubborn & competent man who embodies everything good and bad about humanity, and whose misguided views on family & masculinity are forever changed when someone who is Definitely A Little More than Human chooses him as their favorite person ever; it’ll have John Sheppard as the Prodigal Son Extraordinaire, who damns himself & all that is holy because he just wants to save his best friend, this flawed human he’s come to treasure beyond reason, from himself.

[sunnysviolin]

dragon Basil dragon Basil dragon Basil dragon Basil dragon Basil dragon Bas-

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

Dragon Basil Dragon Basil Dragon Basil Dragon Basil!!!!! 

Okay Neska inspired me with her sketching, so I’m gonna continue this now. I had a whole long thing written, but I hated it so I’m deleting it all and starting fresh. Remember when I said Sunny is a mild mannered librarian? haahha well...

Okay this also got mad long and I don’t know how good it is but I like it and self indulgence is the name of this blog SO. This is the first part of a two parter haha don’t worry part two is already written! 

So this is post all the bad stuff in Royalty AU. Mari is officially princess, she and Hero are betrothed, everything is good. Sunny and Kel are thick as thieves brothers, and Kel as the second son is left to his own devices

His devices is pretty much rope Sunny into doing insane dangerous stuff with him. Sunny is tired, but he goes along to make sure Kel is fine

So they are sitting in the library as Sunny translates an old scroll and reads it aloud to Kel. It’s a story from the end of the age of dragons. In it is a prophecy of the rebirth of dragon riders. It’s been generations and generations since there was even a sighting of a dragon, and most people don’t believe they were ever real. There’s no actual evidence, just stories and songs of their glory. This scroll just a legend, but it’s the kind of story Kel actually likes so he will listen along. 

The story is about the last dragon. The tale goes that the final dragon rests eternally at the heart of the mountain that spits fire. Only if the other half of its heart sings, then the night will turn to day and fire will fly in the sky once more. 

Kel is a little bored by the talk of love and songs, but the first part catches him. He asks Sunny to repeat himself, and so Sunny does. 

Kel remembers that thing that a visiting princess had told them about her kingdom. Kim had been irritating, and Kel had gotten into numerous spats with her, but on one of the rare occasions they had just been talking, she had told him about how the mountains in her kingdom were “on fire” That she was friends with a witch who came from a coven that kept their kingdom from being destroyed by the fire a long time ago. The mountains were quiet now, but one day they would roar again. 

He tells Sunny this, and Sunny stops to think. 

Two parallel stories about mountains spitting fire was odd, but witches were odd, and so were stories. Kel is excited because where dragons are, gold and treasure is. Even if dragons don’t actually exist (and Kel is firm that they don’t) he is intrigued at the prospect of a mountain filled with gold. Sunny is one of the rare that still have faith (although he would never tell his brother for fear of being teased) and so he has his own reasons for wanting to explore

They agree to go to visit Kim and her kingdom of fire spitting mountains, at least to see if she’s making it all up. It isn’t hard to arrange, just a little coercing of Kel’s parents, convincing them this is him doing his duty as a prince to cement a good relationship with nearby kingdoms, and they’re off on horseback riding towards their next adventure. On a whim, Sunny brings his vielle and the scroll.

The boys get to Kim’s castle and make their customary hellos. It’s still minutely awkward between Sunny and the royal families who are unsure of why he is being treated as their equal, but he ignores it. He isn’t there to play at being a prince, he’s following a force that’s been pushing him since he read the scroll. 

That night they sneak into the gardens with Kim and tell her the story and ask her to explain further about her family’s history. She reads Sunny’s translation of the scroll, and Kim tells them she knows the story. She brings them to a room filled with tapestries, intricately woven with the legends of her people. 

The biggest is of a mountain, cracked open like an egg, spitting red and yellow high into the dark air. There’s tiny dots on the ground resembling people, and above in the air are dragons half lit in the yellow threads. Kim tells them the story behind the tapestry. 

Her kingdom is of ancient powers, their family were the final dragon riders. Dragons and humans bond once for life, and that bond was more sacred than anything else. At this point in history, dragons were already beginning to die off as more and more humans came into their territories to claim land. The last great dragon stronghold was her family’s kingdom. Others grew jealous of her family’s power, of their special bond with the last great creatures. 

On a moonless night people came and killed all of the riders, which killed all of the dragons in tandem. Only one was left, her great great (greatgreatgreatgreat...how many greats again?) grandmother. As a girl of only ten and two, she ran away with her dragon who was barely old enough to fly. She managed to get to a friend of hers who was a witch, and begged the coven to give them sanctuary. 

The coven could not stop the evil, but they could give the girl and her dragon a chance. the coven brought the girl in secret to the base of a mountain. They guided her through channels, vents and shafts deep into the heart of the mountain. There they put a spell on the baby dragon, deep magic which would keep it safe, but also keep it asleep. The girl would be able to fight and not have to worry about her dragon being hurt. Even if she died, her dragon would be safe until its rider came and sang a song that she was taught by the witches. 

There was a war, awful and bloody. Almost all of the coven died fighting alongside her. In the final battle, the mountain that her dragon was in broke open, and the coven of witches were forced to sacrifice their magik to make sure that the kingdom lived on. The only one left at the end was the young princess, and she had no way of knowing the way back to her dragon. She spent endless hours trying to find the path in the mountain, but each time she nearly died. Only the coven could find the way, and they were gone. 

Her dragon was safe, but at a terrible price. The child became a queen, and she guarded her mountain with her dragon for the day that he would awaken once more. And Kim’s family has guarded the mountain ever since. 

Kel doesn’t really believe, but he and Sunny are both caught in Kim’s storytelling. She ends with her theory. Sunny’s scroll doesn’t belong to their kingdom, it belongs to Kim’s. The song and prophecy at the end is her birthright. Dragons are real, and they are going to help her wake the last one. 

[darthspideys]

antithesis // five

din djarin x jedi! reader

summary: You expected to find another of yoda’s species, much less under the protection of a particularly stubborn mandalorian. Little do you know its that discovery that will change life as you know it, and put all three of you in danger you never saw coming.

words: ~2k

a/n: So yeah basically I post when I want so you should follow me if you wanna see the next chapter :) Update on how long this thing is even gonna be, right now I have 7 chapters separated with what I have currently and my current ending I’m looking at 8 or 9 but todays episode has given me some inspiration that I’m not sure if I want to include in the story, or in a bonus (more on bonuses later) or in a sequel/spinoff so stay tuned. 

disclaimer: I h8 baby yoda and it shows

He steps back, and then he looks at your hands, “You’re bleeding.” 

“What?” 

“You’re hands.” 

Your hands are bleeding, cut from the strikes that you pelted your opponent with. You sigh as the adrenaline fades to reveal the stinging in your hands. “They are.” 

He does the head tilt that you’ve become used to again, and the child’s pod comes floating up behind him. “Let’s go back to the ship,” He says, “I’ll take care of it.” 

It’s when you’re back on the ship that you sit back and realize how tired you are. He appears in front of you and sits starting to wash out the cuts on your hands. It’s silent for a long time. He sees that you're off in your own world again, not even noticing his presence and he desperately wants to know why. 

“What did you mean when you said you should’ve killed her?” He asks finally.

The sound of his voice snaps you back into the present and you sigh, suddenly wincing at the sharp pain in your hand. “Isn’t that self explanatory?” You say, trying to keep the energy that you usually have. It fails flat and you both know it. He tilts his head again, which seems to be his go to expression of emotion. “I grew up on a farm out in the middle of nowhere on a planet in the middle of nowhere. My father and I would walk to the small town nearby, and one day we showed up and it was on fire. Buildings were burning, people were dead in the middle of the street, and she stood right in the middle of it. She came because she was looking for him and they both knew it.” 

“She killed him,” He finishes after you pause. 

“He gave up,” You correct him, “I saw it, he was more talented than her but he gave up. It was probably seeing everything broken like that, and thinking that it was his fault that sent him over the edge.” You try and stop a wave of emotions and start wondering why you're even saying any of this in the first place. It would’ve been so much easier to lie. “Obviously I tried to kill her, and I thought I did but clearly I did not.” 

You lapse into silence as he begins wrapping the palms of your hands. At first he decides that he’s not going to say anything, but as the time draws on his curiosity gets the better of him. “What is she?”

“A sith,” You explain. “If Jedi are the enemy of the Mandalorians, then the Sith are our enemy. They are force users who use their abilities to gain power and evil, usually they’re ruthless and have been corrupted by the dark side.” He doesn’t say anything for a while and you suddenly feel very self conscious, you shrug, “Their lightsabers are usually a bit cooler however.” 

You can’t tell if he knows you're trying to make a joke. More silence, more wrapping of your hands, and you're suddenly aware of how close you are to him. Another thing you’ve recently become aware of: the fact that he’s taken his gloves off, and you are experiencing uninterrupted hand to hand contact. It makes you feel a way you can’t describe, but it’s not the feelings you had for him before. 

“Tell me about the Jedi,” He says suddenly. 

It catches you a little off guard, but you indulge him anyway. “The Jedi live by a code, like Mandalorians, but it’s based on two opposing forces coexisting but one being stronger than the other. Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.” 

“Sounds hypocritical.” 

“It’s practical,” You tell him. “No one extreme can exist on it’s own, they all exist with each other, sometimes all inside of one person,” He thinks he knows who you're talking about. “Granted, the Mandalorian code is clearer and by some accounts more interesting but there's a reason they’ve been at war for so long.” 

“When we are attacked, we retaliate.” 

“And so do jedi, but there’s something to be said for compromise. Not that I’m the best example of that, or any of the teachings really but from the outside looking in the goal is to compromise where you can and when there’s no room to try and bring people together then you have to stand your ground.” 

He tilts his head again, “You don’t compromise much.” 

“In practice, I’ve found that people don’t respond to compromise as well as the teaching would hope they would.” 

“You’ve made it sound even more hypocritical,” He says. 

You sigh, “The universe isn’t black and white, Mando.” 

“It’s Din,” He says suddenly, “My name is Din Djarin.” 

You smile, “The world isn’t black and white, Din.” You continue, “A lot of things and a lot of people are a mess of contradictions.” 

“Including you,” He says. 

You nod quickly, “Especially me.” 

You have another moment, something passes between the two of you and the silence is no longer tense. You’ve been fighting with him since the moment you met him, and now you're not fighting and you don’t want to fight verbally or physically. Which is something. 

He finishes, and he stands to walk back to the cockpit. “They’re not as different as you think, Mandalorians and Jedi.” He turns back to look at you, “We’re both stubborn.” 

That makes him laugh. 

There’s something familiar about the way that makes you feel, and it gives you an idea. “I know you don’t want to go to Chandrila, but if laying low is the plan, I know a place.”