#There’s no harm in that of course and it’s not like I’m angry or anything :3!

[fandoms-x-reader]

Sensitive! MC

Requested By: @fairwish

Summary: The brothers' reaction to an MC who is sensitive and gets upset about not having anyone who cares about them in the Devildom. The Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 3,064

This doesn't have Belphie because of the lesson it's based on! Sorry <3

Based on Lesson 6-15

You had been torn away from your life and taken to an unfamiliar place full of creatures that humans portrayed as scary and evil.

You didn’t know anyone in the Devildom. You didn’t have anyone who cared about you or that you could talk to about the trouble you were experiencing.

You were all alone, terrified, trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here.

And to top it all off, none of your new acquaintances seemed to care.

They all carried on without a worry in the world - as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a human to be in Devildom.

They didn’t do anything to try and soothe your pain of missing home or calm your fears of being surrounded by demons.

In fact, some one of them - Mammon - spurred them on by threatening to eat you if you didn’t listen to them or do as they asked.

You did your best to put on a brave face, to pretend as though their words and actions didn’t affect you as much as they did.

But it was hard to keep your composure when it was clear that not a single one of them cared about you.

-

You made your way to the Assembly Hall, your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.

You had just left the music room where you had a very intense one-on-one conversation with Lucifer after your near-death experience where you tried to save Beel and Luke.

“Hey, how about that Y/N, you’re alive!” Mammon stated as you entered the large room, a smile on his face that you weren’t sure was one-hundred percent genuine.

“Let’s see…yep, you’ve still got both arms and both legs. Your eyes are still in their sockets, and your ears are still attached. Guess you’re okay,” Beel added.

“I want to know what Lucifer did. You’ve got to give me the deets L-8-R, yo!” Levi said, a bit too excitedly. 

“Whaaat, you’re still alive? Well, that’s boring,¨ Asmo replied, a small frown on his face, as if he was disappointed

You want to scoff at their reponses. How could they be so nonchalant with everything that just happened. How could they not care at all that you almost died trying to protect their brother.

“Of course. Unless he went crazy again like last night, Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Y/N,” Satan stated, the mention of your name bringing you out of your thoughts.

“And do you know why that is, Y/N?” Satan asked you, a small smirk resting on his lips as he asked the question.

You wished it was because Lucifer liked you. Or at the very least because you were a human. But you the knew the answer.

“Because I’m an exchange student,” you replied, softly, casting your gaze away from the demons standing in front of you.

That’s all you were to them - a business transaction. A pawn that was being used to ensure Lord Diavolo’s vision came to light.

“Exactly. I see you have a good grasp of what’s going on here,” Satan replied, and you felt tears begin to sting your eyes.

“If anything were to happen to one of our exchange students, it would make Lord Diavolo look bad,” Satan continued to explain and you took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your emotions.

“Lucifer would never do anything to harm Lord Diavolo’s reputation,” Satan added and you felt the ties that had been previously holding you back snap.

“You know, I actually forgot about that. For a moment, I was starting to think that Lucifer might actually care about me. Thanks for me reminding, Satan,” you replied sharply, your angry eyes locking with his surprised ones before you left the Assembly Hall.

Satan hadn’t expect such sarcasm to come out of you - such wrath. None of them did. 

You had passed Lucifer and Lord Diavolo on your way out of the Assembly Hall and they could feel your irritation radiating off of you.

They didn't follow after you though, instead turning their attention to the five other demons inside the Assmebly Hall, silently demanding an explanation as to why you were so upset.

Lucifer thought that he had patched things over with you after your conversation in the music room.

He wasn’t the best at apologizing but he was sure that he had gotten his point across about how regretful he was over his actions.

He thought that you had accepted his apology and that things were okay, but after seeing you storm out of the Assembly Hall, we was no longer sure that was true.

After his brothers told Lucifer what happened before his arrival, he thought it would be best if he went and checked on you himself.

He found you in the courtyard, remnants of the tears you had previously shed streaking down your cheeks.

Lucifer wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Mostly, because he wasn’t exactly sure why you were so upset.

It took a little bit of time, but when you finally opened up and told Lucifer about your troubles, he was surprised. 

He was surprisingly sympathetic to what you were going through, but he didn’t exactly let that side of himself show.

He had already apologized to you for his part in causing you discomfort in the Devildom and he was the Avatar of Pride, after all, so getting a second apology was a tall order, and an unlikely one.

But, you did notice Lucifer doing small things around RAD and the House of Lamentation.

It could be simple things that provided more comfort for your life in the Devildom or moments of appreciation that Lucifer treated as trivial but ended up meaning more to you than you thought it would.

After that conversation with Lucifer, one thing was clear - he and his brothers weren’t treating you right and they needed to make amends for that and correct their course of action.

Mammon could arguably be the most sensitive among his brothers when it came to certain things.

He had his fair share of moments where he felt like he didn’t matter to his brothers and times where he felt like there wasn’t a single person in the Devildom that cared about him.

So, he knew just how devastating those thoughts could be.

When you first arrived to the Devildom, Mammon’s concern was making sure that he made himself out to be intimidating and indifferent towards you so that he could have the power in the friendship.

He wanted to dictate when and where the two of you would go and how things were done. After all, if he was going to be your babysitter, he wanted full control of the situation.

But that didn’t really work out for him, and it didn’t take long for him to not only have to bend his knee to your will - but he wanted to.

The truth was he had fun with you and you always found a way to make him smile. Though, he refused to say anything like that. Hell, he refused to even think anything like that when he was around others.

But, when you had your outburst in the Assmebly Hall, Mammon had seen the pained look on your face. The same pained look that he had seen on himself in the mirror.

He followed after you almost immediately, not letting you get too far before he caught up and pulled you into an empty classroom.

He stood in front of you, silence filling the air as you did your best but failed to hold back your tears.

Mammon dared himself to reach up and use his thumb to brush away the tears that were rolling down your cheek.

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to keep it together when no one around you cares about you,” you stated, barely above a whisper as you kept your gaze on the ground.

Mammon felt his heart shatter as you spoke those words. He knew that he was at fault just as much as his brothers.

He wanted to tell you that he cared about you, but every time he opened his mouth to speak those words, they got lost.

So, instead he pulled you into his arms, hoping that his gesture would be enough to prove you wrong.

Hoping that you would see that even though he had a tendency to act aloof, on the inside he was screaming for you to show him attention and to care about him the same way he cared about you.

Levi isn’t the type of person who knows how to handle this kind of situation.

He wasn’t even planning on going in to school today. He was perfectly content with doing his studies from the comfort of his bedroom.

But, ever since he made a pact with you, he had to admit he felt some sort of desire - a very SECRET desire - to spend more time with you.

The idea that his brothers would be hanging out with you at school while he was sitting at the House of Lamentation, missing out, was enough to spark the sin that he tried so hard to control.

And now after seeing everything that had just happened, he was heavily regretting his decision to leave his room.

Because now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

On one hand, he wanted to disappear back to his otaku haven and pretend like he never saw your outburst

On the other hand…he couldn’t. He felt like he had to do something to help, and the feeling only grew when he didn’t see any of his other brothers moving to go talk to you.

His social anxiety was skyrocketing, but he couldn’t leave a fellow TSL fan in their time of need. That was the reason the told himself when questioning why he was doing this.

When he finally did find you, he once again froze in place as he tried to figure out his next move. He didn’t expect to find you crying.

He found some nearby tissues and slowly approached you with them, relaxing slightly when you gently took them from him and began wiping away your tears.

Levi managed to ask you why you were crying and when you explained it to him, everything made sense as to why you snapped at them.

Levi was almost always self-depracating. Sometimes it was easier to tell yourself that no one loved you then get your hopes up and get hurt. 

But he didn’t want you to go down that rabbit hole - because it wasn’t true.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to find a way to show you how much you meant to him and his brothers.

He was going to prove how just in your small time there, you had already changed at least three of them for the better. And it wouldn't be long until the others followed suit.

Levi might not have the perfect words to say or the perfect way to cheer you up, but what he did have was a true friend.

And you may have to wait a while until he’s comfortable enough for him to tell you that. But, in the meantime, he’ll do what he could to show you that at least one person cared about you.

Satan had been the one you snapped at, so he was by far the most surprised.

For one, he wasn’t exactly sure what about his statements made you so angry.

He wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, he was simply stating the facts about Lucifer.

For two, he didn’t think you had such rage inside. 

In a somewhat twisted sense, he dared to admit seeing you portray his sin gave him a small sense of gratification.

But, that thought was at the back of his mind. At the front, was trying to talk to you about what happened.

He took some time to properly analyze the situation. He tried to come up with every possible reason that could have caused you to lash out.

He wanted to have a response to any situation so that when he did talk to you, he wasn’t floundering for words.

He found you in the library at the House of Lamentation a little while later and he was grateful you were in a quiet and private place that he just so happened to be comfortable in.

You looked up from your book for a moment to see who had entered before returning to your fictional world. 

Satan came to sit down next to you and paused for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

It was a much more sincere apology than you would expect from the Avatar of Wrath and it was enough to pull your attention away from your book.

“It’s not what you said. It’s what it reminded me of,” you replied with a small sigh.

“What did it remind you of?” Satan questioned, his eyes holding no malice but a hint of curiosity

“That I’m alone down here. That I don’t have anyone to turn to or talk to. That I don’t have anyone who cares,” you replied softly, your eyes looking away from Satan’s intense ones.

Satan had thought about this being one of the reasons, but he was stuck in a mental debate.

He was so used to being apathetic but something about the way you opened up to him melted his heart and he suddenly felt an innate desire to protect you.

“The library is a great place to go if you’re feeling lonely,” Satan stated.

It was always his comfort place, so he saw no reason why it couldn’t be yours.

Not to mention the fact, that he was typically in the library and maybe a small part of him was hoping that he could also be something you sought out when you were feeling lonely.

Asmo didn’t really understand the weight that his words carried until you were angrily walking out of the Assembly Hall.

As soon as you disappeared from sight he began questioning himself. Did he really say it was boring that you weren’t dead?

He had meant it as a joke when he first said it. It was a joke that most demons would find funny and he was so good at trying to be a people pleaser.

He was used to making those kinds of jokes because it would boost the way he looked in front of other demons and we all know how important his reputation was to him.

But your outburst made him realize how it must have sounded to you - a human who had been torn from their world and thrown into one that was vastly different. 

And a twinge of guilt poked at his heart, gradually growing in intensity until he felt like he could no longer stave off the need to apologize.

He found you in your bedroom and was thankful that the two of you would have a moment to be alone.

His apology would be so much more genuine if it was in privacy where he could drop the mask he constantly wore in public.

When you opened the door Asmo suppressed a gasp as he saw tears rolling down your cheek and the guilt only continued to eat away at him.

He had always thought that crying was such an ugly thing. But when you did it, it had a certain elegance.

You had a way of making anything you did beautiful. It was a trait that Asmo was actually quite envious of.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Asmo said, the words spilling from his lips before he had even fully registered what he said. 

You were confused by his sudden confession and as you tried to find the right words to reply with, he continued.

“I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I made you cry," he added.

Asmo grabbed a nearby tissue and gently brought it to your cheek, dabbing away your tears.

You knew that what he said was probably a joke, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

You opened up to Asmo and explained why it hurt so much to hear everyone say those things and it was like a lightbulb went off in Asmo's head.

He completely understood where you were coming from and he hated that none of them even thought about how hard it would be for a human to adjust to life in the Devildom.

In an attempt to show you he cared about you, Asmo will turn up his charm 100% on you.

More compliments, more hugs, really anything he could do.

And if that wasn't enough he would take you out with him and introduce you to some of his friends.

Being lonely was one of the worst feelings and Asmo never wanted you to feel that way.

Beel felt the most guilty after seeing you so upset.

He was the one you were protecting when Lucifer tried to attack you.

You had stepped in front of him and shielded him.

He had been so thankful that Diavolo managed to reach Lucifer in time and stop him from hurting you.

And he made sure to tell you as much when you were resting up in his bedroom after the attack.

Yet, when that conversation was happening in the Assembly Hall, he said and did nothing to help you.

He could see you growing more and more upset as his brothers talked, but he continued to just stand by and listen.

As soon as you left the Assembly Hall in tears though, Beel knew he had messed up.

He immediately followed after you, genuinely worried about you.

When he finally caught up to you, Beel immediately wrapped you into his arms, pulling you closely into him.

Panic was filling every inch of his body as he tried to come up with the right words.

In the end, he told you, “My brothers were just kidding.”

You let out a small chuckle, gently pulling away from Beel and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I know that what they were saying wasn’t completely true, but Satan was right. I don’t have anyone down here that cares about me,” you replied, and Beel’s lip turned into a frown.

He looked so sad and lost at your words that you almost felt like you needed to comfort him.

“When I asked you why you protected me and Luke, you told me it was because we were your friends and we were important to you,” Beel began, and your eyes locked with his indigo ones. 

“You’re my friend too, and you’re important to me,” Beel added with a small smile that portrayed how sincere he was being you.

His expression was enough to bring a small smile to your face and you allowed yourself to open up to Beel.

You knew that the whole experience brought the two of you closer, and you knew that Beel was someone who would always be there for you and someone you could always turn to.

[mossy-paws]

do you have a list of what all the phighters are gonna be in your mermaid au :0

still really nervous to say who’s who because I don’t want people to copy any of my ideas because I’ve seen someone be scarily close to what I’ve been doing and stuff (no blame on them though because to be fair I guess it’s a little generic, it’s just a tad nerve racking I would say :’DD!), but you can refer to some of my older posts for what’s what :DDD! Sorry LMAO I just got anxiety and I’m silly like that

[misslovasstuff]

Op!men with girlfriends that get excited about them being angry

paired with: Sanji, Zoro, Ace and Law.

content: kinda suggestive (nsfw)

Sanji

he would NEVER get angry at you, like NEVER

Sanji didn’t know about this weird side of yours but being the sharp genius that he is, sometimes there were clues he put together when you two were being intimate

Let’s just say you got a bit too excited when he grabbed your flesh tightly and when you hear him groan, at times when you teased him at the point when you think he’d snap at you… but he didn’t

He was torn apart between ‘do I give her what she wants so she’s satisfied’ and ‘but I would never wanna hurt or disrespect a woman’.

Despite the dilemma, he especially noticed your gaze on him when he was angry or whenever he was fighting an opponent

He’d think you’d have a more worrisome look on your face but no, you’re literally melting while watching his eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched as he cusses some filthy words out of frustration

He brushes it off this time as well, thinking whether he should ask you about it.

However, when you thought that there was no way Sanji would ever get mad at you, there is a detail you ignored: he gets most angry when you’re in danger

So the day you voluntarily put yourself in harm’s way, that was the day you sat down and listened to him attentively as he ranted at your carelessness.

“You think going on your own against such a strong opponent is the right thing? You could have died if I didn’t come at the right time! What were you thinking?!”

His tone of voice is louder than usual, his eyes wide and not looking at anything else but you.

Sanji sighs and rubs his temple, closing his eyes to recollect himself.

Once he opens them and gazes at your direction, about to apologise for the way he got mad at you just now, he meets your blushing face and eyes that reflect a gaze much in awe.

Obviously you were in an effect other than what Sanji expected.

“Uhm, love? Are you alright, I’m sorry, I just… you have no idea how worried you got me and…”

You blink after a while, gulping as you cross your legs and giving a fake cough.

“No need to apologise. I acted selfishly.”

Sanji notices your flushed demeanour. Seeing you sat on that chair, legs crossed, a strong grip on the base and head lowered down as to hide your blush, it made him smirk a little bit as he approached slowly.

He presses his hands on your thighs as he parts your legs, his face only centimetres away from yours. He’s grinning, scanning your face and realising that he was right about his doubts:

“You like it when I’m mad at you, huh?”

Sanji asks and you avoid his gaze but he tilts his head to meet it nevertheless.

“You get excited by watching me so heated up, don’t you?”

Biting your lip, you finally meet his eyes and nod.

“You must be so frustrated then. It’s almost impossible to make me mad at you.”

You sigh: “Tell me about it.”

After you both chuckle, Sanji leans in and whispers in your ear:

“I can give a list of things you can do to make me mad, love. I also like it when my girl misbehaves sometimes.”

Zoro

“You’re an absolute freak you know that?”

“Oh come on Zoro, say it one more time for me…”

Your boyfriend is not known for his patience.

Zoro sighs, rolling his eyes with a hidden smile: “You’re impossible. How can you be into this kind of thing? Listen to me and just-“

You pout, averting your gaze and giving up on convincing him.

But your boyfriend is known for having a weak spot for you.

Zoro notices, grabbing your hand and guides you to somewhere.

You’re confused but follow him nonetheless.

He stops and gazes around then pushes you harshly against the wall, his arms surrounding you.

“Want me to get mad at you? That’d be easy giving how much you get on my nerves.”

Of course, you let out a soft moan, undeniably making the swordsman excited on his own accord as well.

“You always wanna get your way!”

He whispers aggressively, grabbing a hold of your hair, causing you to tilt your head.

“Why you never listen to me, huh?!”

Zoro’s voice becomes louder in a breathy way as he bites your ear, then drags his lips along your jaw.

“I listen to you, Zoro… I really do…”

You moan his name as your hands press against his chest, travelling up where you put them around his neck.

With this, Zoro pulls you closer as you arch your back, leaving bite marks on your neck.

“You won’t do this again, right? - Zoro asks. It receives no response other than your loud moaning. - Right?”

He asks again, grabbing your jaw and making you look at his gaze directly which is so firm, fierce and possessive.

“I won’t… I won’t…” - you whisper, gazing at his lips before he crashes his with yours, beginning one of the hottest make out sessions you ever had.

It’s not your fault he ends up doing what you want over and over again and that’s the key that makes him mad, and that’s how you know he likes it too.

Ace

“Fucking shit!” - Ace cusses, throwing his broken log pose in the sea.

When he does so, his body catches fire a little bit but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind.

You on the other hand, you do notice of course.

The way he brushes his hair backward as he sighs, placing his hands on his hips as he tilts his head back, gazing at the sky.

“Fuck it, that was the only way we could find our way to the island. Damn it!”

Whilst his back is in front of you, Ace does not notice you biting your lip and looking at him up and down.

“Don’t get so mad, babe. I’m sure we will figure it out.” - you state, getting up and hugging him from behind, hands resting on his chest which he grabs and lets you experience the warmth.

“Right. - he calms down, turning to face you. - Now, why are you looking at me like that?”

Ace is intrigued at the expression of your face. There was obvious excitement there and the way you’re now pressing your chest against his is making the guy visibly confused.

“Does it make you mad that I’m looking at you this way?” - you ask, giggling.

“Of course not, sweet thing. How can I be mad at you?” - he puts some strands behind your ear and notices now a bit of disappointment evidently shown in your face.

“Can you say that again for me?” - you ask, tracing his chest with your finger.

“Say what?”

“The way you cussed earlier… can you…”

Ace was catching on with what you meant, but still thought is was funny to hear you say it out loud.

“Tell me, - he grabs your chin a bit harshly. - what do you want me to say to you?”

You gulp, licking your lips before claiming:

“Get mad at me like that, say ‘damnit’ and ‘fuck’ to me.

“Ohhh, - Ace smirks, pulling your lower lip down with his thumb. - I have a better idea, how about I fuck you instead? Promise I’ll get angry at you as you ride me in an agonising slow pace and make me mad at my core, aight?”

Law

Your boyfriend acts nonchalant most of the time. It you know deep down this man is crazy for you.

He’s usually calm and collected and the few times you’ve seen him lose his marbles was around the time you traveled with the strawhats.

Now you wonder, how can you make him a bit mad, just a little bit to spice things up.

However all your efforts did not amount to anything. The way you achieved what you wanted was from a random man who approached you on the street while you were with Law.

“What a beauty! You’re free tonight, sweetheart? I’ll rock your world i prom-

Certainly he was drunk, but Law did not hesitate in teleporting that man away as you heard a scream from afar.

“Asshole.” - he cusses, grabbing your hand tightly as continuing walking.

Your heart is beating like crazy. You didn’t want to provoke him further but on the other hand…

“He said he was gonna rock my world.” - you claim, smiling at him as he turns his face to look at you, confused.

“So what? - Law asks, stoping his pace and pulling you by your hand into his arms. - You’re curious now?”

It’s hard to hide your blush as his eyes gaze into yours with a passion different from other times. His grip on your waist tightens as his hands travel up your body to your chest.

You let out a small moan: “maybe I’m curious, yes.” Trying to tease him backfire as he grins and whispers to you.

“You’re really making me mad here. - he gropes your tights aggressively. - You know damn well I can rock your world as well, don’t you?”

In attempt to keep him irritated, you say: “I might have forgotten about that.”

Man, the look in eyes is insane.

“Oh, really?” - law questions, shaking his head and clicking his jaw. - He teases your nipples with his fingers, making you suck in your teeth.

“Let me refresh your damn screwed memory then, love.”

[sunny44]

Stubborn

Paring: Carlos Sainz x Leclerc!reader

Warnings: mentions of surgery, appendix removed, sickness and maybe other things

Summary: Carlos insists on going to the race even after just having surgery.

This story is the second part of Secret Love, but if you haven't read the first part you'll understand this chapter here without any problem. But I would recommend you read it.

Today was race day and we were getting ready to leave the hospital. Since the surgery went well, they discharged Carlos.

“Honey, I’ve finished packing your things. Can we go to the hotel and…” At that moment, he emerged from the bathroom wearing the Ferrari shirt. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“We’re heading to the Paddock,” he said. I looked at him in disbelief.

“Of course not, are you crazy? You just had surgery and you already want to go back there?”

“Honey, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You have stitches in your stomach and you already want to go there? You’re not even going to race.”

“Babe.”

“No, listen, if you want to go, fine.” I angrily threw the rest of his things into the backpack. “But I’m not going with you.”

“Y/n.”

“No, I went through hell yesterday fearing something might happen to you, only for you to tell me you want to go there to watch the race.” I zipped up the backpack. “I hate this, you and Charles are just the same.”

“What does your brother have to do with this?”

“That you both have this reckless tendency to put your lives at risk for stupid things.” I tried to control myself from crying. “I won’t have another one in my life who makes me go through this.”

Before he could say anything, his father entered the room, and I stormed out, heading back to the hotel.

It’s things like this that makes me angry. I already have two brothers who are always putting themselves in danger and often doing unnecessary things. I never used to be so afraid of these things until Jules’ death. It was a dark moment in our lives, and knowing that he died in a way that my two brothers and now my boyfriend could also die leaves me extremely worried and on the verge of having a panic attack.

So the fact that he wants to go to the paddock to watch the race after surgery makes me furious.

When I got to the hotel, I went straight to take a shower, dried my hair, and put on pajamas since I would be here the rest of the day. I ordered room service and turned on the TV to watch the race, and immediately saw Carlos entering the paddock. He was walking slowly because of the surgery, and I just shook my head and settled back into bed.

Midway through the race, I was packing my bags since I would be catching a flight to Monaco early tomorrow morning when the door suddenly opened scaring me and Carlos walked into the room.

“Hey,” he said, closing the door.

“Hey.” I finished packing my suitcase and placed it on the floor.

“Leaving?”

“We have a flight to Monaco tomorrow morning, so…”

“Are you staying at my place or…”

“I’m staying at my mom’s.”

“I thought you were staying with me.”

“That was before this morning.”

“Y/n…”

“I’m not trying to control you or tell you what to do, but you were extremely irresponsible with your health today by going to the race, which could harm your recovery.”

“I know.”

“And yet you went.”

“But I’m here, I came back because I knew you were right and…” He stopped because he winced in pain.

“Lie down.” I took his hand and helped him onto the bed, lifting his shirt. “Did you changed this today?”

“Not yet.” I sighed and got the things I had bought earlier in the morning, starting to clean the wound. “Ouch.”

“Sorry,” I said, finishing cleaning and applying a new dressing. “Here are your medications, they might make you a bit drowsy, so you’ll probably fall asleep.”

“I’m really sorry,” he said again. “Charles didn’t explain the reason, but he told me this upsets you.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Do you want to tell me why?” He opened his arms, and I lay down on his chest.

“It’s because Jules died doing what you and my brothers do.” He hugged me tighter. “And I remember vividly the pain I felt when they buried him, leaving only memories and grief.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way and that I contribute to what scares you.”

“I don’t mind your job; I like seeing you do what you love and achieving your dreams. But I can’t help feeling scared every time you, Charles, or Arthur get into those cars.” I sighed and started tracing circles with my fingers on his chest. “It’s just that I don’t know if I could handle it if something happened to any of you. It’s not about the surgery; I just want to prevent anything from happening to you guys over something as trivial as going to watch the race in person after having your appendix removed.”

“I’m sorry for not realizing that and for ignoring your advice to rest.”

“It’s okay, I should have been honest about what was scaring me.”

“Are we okay?” he asked.

“We are.” He smiled and kissed my forehead. “But from now on, if you do something like this again, you’ll have to work a lot harder for my forgiveness. I’m just being nice now because you’re recovering.”

“Okay, that’s fair enough for me.” We switched positions, and he lay on my chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Bonus scene!

Carlossainz instagram stories

“Thank you all for the love messages you’ve been sending to me, it has certainly helped me a lot. I'm still recovering but with the help of all my team and my wonderful girlfriend I'm getting better every day." Tagged: Y/nleclerc

[nvuy]

an ode to a nightingale — sunday

summary. you were never anything. sunday begs to differ, in his own twisted way.

notes. a thing i did as an experiment and also as a little gift to a special someone (you know who you are) because we both enjoy staring at this guy's face. he's a funky little dude and a massive green flag. 100%.

i redownloaded hsr and i’ve started penacony. i have no idea what’s going on. it’s probably because i’ve been stuck staring at dr ratio’s boob window the whole time. i’m like a toddler watching cocomelon. i cant look away.

warnings. mdni, for safety. implied explicit content, dark themes, manipulation, sunday is a controlling dickhead, you’re an implied streetwalker, yandere themes, insulting, threatening, possessiveness, mentions of kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessiveness, lots of nice stuff like that. please let me know if i've missed anything!

“What do you want from me?”

You looked in the mirror as you spoke, and you saw some pathetic state of a person staring back at you. Behind the edges of the golden vanity was the outline of the filled bathtub with steam wafting from the surface.

And him.

You watched as he sank into the water with a satisfied gleam on his face.

You refused to linger on the scratch marks that left gorgeous red and white lines down his arms, and his chest, and his spine.

It smelled like coconut. Coconut and dusted sugar on creamy pastry. And the clogging smell of mascara.

It smudged down your cheeks, and your lips were ruined and swollen, and your skin was painted in purple bruises and teeth marks.

And you were sore. Every part of your body was aching.

Sunday was leaning against the edge of the tub, staring at you through his lashes. He always preferred his baths boiling, as if he wanted to melt his skin off. Usually, he’d bring a book with him and read it during his off time when given the chance.

He didn’t answer.

“You’ve changed,” he said instead. His voice echoed off of the white tiles in the bathroom.

“I look the same as the night you took me off the streets,” you murmured. “Like a whore.”

Sunday hummed. “Is that how you see yourself?” The wings extending from his ears dipped below the water for a moment. “A ‘whore?’”

You didn’t want to turn to face him.

It was difficult enough to hold his unwavering gaze in the mirror.

“You’re not denying it.”

“Because I think you look damaged.” He was honest this time, and there was bitterness swelling with his tone. He instinctively fluttered his feathers to dry them off.

“By your design.” You were speaking of how he made it his duty to ruin your skin with his teeth.

“What I’ve done to you is nothing. You had already ruined yourself by offering your body to those disgusting animals before I had ever even laid my eyes on you.” He waved his hand as if he meant no harm with his words. “I’ve merely saved you.”

Your jaw clenched.

He fluttered his lashes at you in the mirror and sighed.

What a pretty sight.

“‘Saved me?’” you repeated hoarsely. You tried not to claw at your skin in frustration. You willed yourself not to lunge at him and puncture his eyes from his skull. “Do me a favour and save me from your arrogance next. You’re deluded if you think trapping me in your bedroom is praiseworthy.”

He smiled.

“Think of it this way: a bird is much safer trapped in a cage than free to the winds.” The smell of coconut and sugared powder made your head spin. Of course, he would use the soaps and creams you wore when he first met you. The smell was engraved into his mind like a branding.

Although covered by a robe, you felt vulnerable. His gaze held strong. You weren’t sure if he was even blinking.

Sunday seemed too relaxed. Your freedom was a joke to him; what is freedom if you’re too busy giving your body to strangers? Did you want to go back to that life?

“You want me to get in the tub just so you can humiliate me,” you accused with a dangerous flash of your teeth.

You wanted to sound angry. You wanted to sound furious, but it was only a pitiful whimper of a phrase. You felt pathetically weak.

He was quick to answer, “I did not request your company.” He patted the book with golden edges that sat on a ledge of the bathtub. You didn’t want to ask of its contents. “You came here of your own fruition. You felt lonely.”

“You think you know everything about me.”

“But of course.” Sunday plucked the book from the ledge, careful not to wet the pages as he turned to the page he’d marked. “You are mine, after all.”

His tone was light. Confident.

Your face was burning. “Fuck you.”

Who even were you? Who were you next to him?

Nothing, was the appropriate answer. He insisted otherwise, though he’d never given you a definitive answer of what you were. He’d never explicitly stated you to be a whore, disobedient, disrespectful, too independent for your own good.

Everything you hated to hear about yourself, even if it was all true.

He’d only tut and usher you away with a wave of his hand.

You’re his, as well.

His teeth in your skin, his feathers tickling your neck, his wandering fingers that crept below your navel. He’s stained your skin with his. It’s hard to wash off—even harder when he shares the same soaps as you.

Perhaps he knows this, and that’s why he hopes you share a bath with him.

So you’re reminded that there’s a chain around your ankle.

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, y’know. You think you’re so high and mighty, and yet you’re naked and pining after some street whore. And then you insist that I belong to you, but also beg for me beneath your own sheets.” But that wasn’t true.

As soon as the words left your lips you screwed your eyes shut and you leaned over the vanity.

His smile only grew, and the tip of his tongue touched the sharp edge of his canines.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the marble countertop.

Here he was, vulnerable. Susceptible to a swift slice of a blade to his neck, to being held beneath the surface of the water until he stopped flailing.

And you’re still so afraid of him.

He reads you like the book in his hands.

Sunday cooed. “Just like water, you are destructible, easily poisoned, and ever changing. You are lost, entrapped within four walls, so desperate to escape, but you cannot think for yourself.”

You furrowed your brows.

He turned the page of his book. The water sloshed as his arms moved.

The smell of coconut was hurting your head.

“You speak in tongues because you’re scared of ruining your perfect image,” you said. “You’re just an insecure little boy who's stuck in a daydream.”

That forced his head to turn. He almost snapped his book shut. Instead, his fingers froze on the edges of the crisp paper.

Then, he let out a hearty laugh.

“Allow me to rephrase: your beauty is wicked. It is rotten, vile, and evil.” The sweet scent of sugar was a cruel joke. It juxtaposed everything that spilled from his filthy lips. “Your blood is muddied and ruined. You’ve allowed strangers to see your skin.

“You’re lucky I’ve tolerated your behaviour for this long. If you were anybody else, you would have lost your foul tongue after our first night together.”

The way he said it all made you feel so much smaller than you were.

You finally turned around to face him. The reflection in the mirror made the bathtub seem further away than it actually was.

The tub was in the centre of the room, craved meticulously from a blue crystal. To you, it closely resembled aquamarine. It was big enough to be considered a swimming pool if you removed the golden faucet, but you refrained from insulting his fussy craftsmanship and adding fuel to the fire.

Sunday was particular about everything; sizing, shapes, colours. Everything had to match, everything had to make sense, everything had to be perfect and presentable. Any faults or flaws were dealt with swiftly, whether that be a person or an object. You weren’t sure if you were considered one or the other.

Then came the specifics. A ledge for placing things, voids in the walls for storing soaps, adequate cupboards, flooring, walls, forms, everything.

Aeons forbid you dropped a glass and scratched the precious tiling.

And he was particular about you, though he never clearly stated what he wanted from you.

He wanted you. That was clear from how he would coax you to join him with gentle words and fleeting touches. How he would stain your skin and leave an imprint of your body on his bedsheets.

Anything other than that was muddled, muddied, lost in his own deluded mind.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him again.

Sunday fluttered his lashes at you. “Nothing at all.”

“Have you ever told the truth?”

You had instinctively drawn yourself closer to him. You leaned over the tub, fingers curled around the rim of crystal.

Sunday sighed. He looked sick, like delusion had twisted through his mind like poison ivy crawling along the walls of the gardens outside. “You are afraid of the truth.”

“You’re lying again.” He wasn’t lying, but you refused to make him feel as though he was in control.

That was he fed off.

Your fear, your touch, your taste, your words, every inch of your skin. His. All of it.

“I want everything,” he stated.

You wanted to break the tub and slit his throat with the shards of crystal.

“I want you to give yourself to me. All of yourself.”

How selfish of him.

He still views you as an offering.

You turned away and moved to storm out of the bathroom. You would wait until he was finished. You couldn’t be in the room with him.

The steam was burning your skin, and your scent on him was making your head feel like it was splitting apart.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look back.

You would have described his eyes as beautiful; golden irides with hints of plush velvet and a deep sapphire. But all he did was stare. He’d never look away, and he never wished to.

He saw things you did not.

“I want undying loyalty.” When you squirmed, he held your cheeks harder. “I want hopeless devotion. I want compassion. I want to see the silhouette of you in my bed first thing every morning.”

Your nails were frozen digging into his wrist, still wet and hot from the water.

He seemed as though he wished to say more, though refrained when he let go of your face. He’d abandoned his book now, his gaze remaining locked onto you.

Your cheeks stung from his fingerprints. You feared the patterns would be burned into your flesh.

“I want you to stop,” you whispered.

You knew what he was doing.

“Oh, I will.” This time, when his fingers raised for your face, he simply grazed them along your sore cheek. “Join me.”

You didn’t answer at first. You didn’t even move from your spot, frozen as if he’d drawn ice down your spine.

You breathed out. Your fingers were trembling.

“I’m not stupid,” you said. You were trying to convince yourself it was true.

Sunday only tilted his head. “No, you’re not stupid.”

He was already pulling the string of the bow around your waist. His wings bristled.

“I know what you’re doing,” you insisted, holding onto the fluffy material when he undid the knot holding the robe together. “I know what you’re doing.”

He smiled playfully. His hands pushed away the robe. “What am I doing?”

Your eyes welled with tears.

You don’t know what he’s doing. You are stupid.

You wished you’d never met him. You wished you’d never let soft hands and kind words and those pretty eyes of his draw you into his bed.

You shouldn’t have ever crawled back to him.

You let out a pathetic sob.

“Oh, you sweet thing.”

Sunday tutted pitifully and offered his hand.

Almost instinctively, as if it had been written in your blood since the moment you were born, you took it and leaned into his embrace.

His hair smelled of sugared tea. The feathers of his wings grazed over your face, now soaked with your tears.

He gently drew you into the water, murmuring something bordering on praise. You didn’t even hear what he said.

“I will make you all better.”

The water was hot. His lips on your cheek made you dizzy. The mirror had completely steamed up by now, and your chest pressed flush against his.

You tried to push him off you. You tried. You really did. You’d done this before, many times. Letting him break you down and watching as you lost control of your limbs and clawed at him until he held you.

He was good at that. Predicting. Letting things form the way they always did.

You were so angry. Angry at yourself, at him, at everything. Weakly, you curled your fists and hit his shoulders defeatedly. You heard him laugh.

All you did was betray yourself, surrendering and stilling as his cold hands dipped below the water.

“I will make you whole again.”

[bbutterflies]

I spend a lot of time thinking about what it would take to break adrien. what would it take to make him aggressive. to take someone who’s already been to hell and back, who tries so hard to be good and be kind and be patient and just shut up and deal with it. what’s his breaking point. and, honestly, if he’s scared what does he know to do? he knows to hide but what happens when there’s nowhere to hide? what happens when he’s trapped?

chat blanc, of course. it’s adrien and “I’m not a violent dog. I don’t know why I bite.” destroying the whole world out of self defense because he doesn’t know how else to keep himself safe. you see him before he’s akumatized, and right after, absolutely petrified with nowhere to run. so what does he do? he bites.

I feel like his instinct is so often to turn inwards, but if you take all his choices away – nowhere to run and nowhere to hide – he bites. of course he does. what does gabriel do when he’s angry? what does chloe do when she’s angry? what does felix do when he’s angry? (and, if we assume adrien isn’t such a reliable narrator about his mother, what did emilie do?)

he doesn’t know anything else. if you trap a scared dog, even if he’s a good dog, he’s going to bite.

and no wonder gabriel tried so hard to keep him on a leash. gabriel was literally keeping him in a muzzle. all the time. constantly. putting him in his crate. constantly. never socializing him. never letting him run around in the sun. a performance dog, all the time, and locked away at home like he can’t be trusted. (all this doubly so if you subscribe to senti-adrien)

and if you treat a good dog like a violent dog, he’s going to bite.

if you convince a good dog he’s a violent dog, if you convince him he can’t be let loose without doing harm to the people he loves, he’s going to be terrified he’s going to bite. he’ll do everything he can to be good and be kind and be patient and just shut up and deal with it. but all he knows how to do is to bite.

he’s not a violent dog. he doesn’t know why he bites. he doesn’t know that he doesn’t HAVE to bite. he doesn’t know anything else.

[hazbinhotelxreader]

Rosie,carmila dating the reader with an alastor personality but more smilly and dark?

A/n: yea! Of course! Sorry this took so long and hopefully this isn’t OOC, cause I’m not sure if this is good..

Anyways!

Pairing: Rosie and Carmilla with a reader that has Alastors personality.

Gender: gender neutral (since it wasn’t declared)

Rosie!

-She’s definitely more use to it. I mean, come on she’s friends with Alastor, so meeting someone that’s similar to him was a joy.

-Though, you are much more dark and “happier” than Alastor, which can put her at unease sometimes, but not often.

-Like I said, she’s used to it. The first time you two met she was sweet and polite as always.

-You’re probably close to Alastor, coming across him once and you two just clicked, not in a romantic way of course.

-so you definitely met through Alastor. And Rosie was more than demoted to meet one of Alastors friends, and one that was similar to him too.

-She enjoys how you keep a smile on your face even through the hard times, though it does worry her.

-Even if you’re happy and always have a smile on your face, she can see if something is bothering you. So expect small therapy sessions every now and then.

-She’ll be very patient for you and not get stressed or angry if you say “I’m fine” or that you’re never sad.

-Now about you being more dark, it doesn’t bother her too much. Alastor is already pretty dark, so she’s use to dark humor or actions.

-But she won’t tolerate any of those acts if it’s placed in her town. It’s her people and she doesn’t want them hurt. She’s fine with you act out on other areas that aren’t her town, she always tells you to just tone it down and not hurt to many people.

-When dating, she’s definitely going to worry more. She’s gonna be by your side at all times to make sure you’re having actual fun rather than hiding under a smile.

-She’s the type of girl to give you a stern talking to if you ever commit an act that’s extremely bad. She’ll force you to sit down and she’ll just lecture you for a good hour, before going back to her usual polite and cheerful self.

-She does offer other things to distract you from doing anything that might hurt too many people. For example, she helps you be a cannibal.

-She believes, since cannibalism is a cruel act, that it would put you at ease and distract you from doing bad things.

-It does work. It makes you feel good too knowing you did something so unholy and disgusting, you often find yourself eating some of the parts Rosie has stored, which she always offers.

-Overall she’s a really good girlfriend, and still treats you nicely even if you’re a little…insane

Carmilla~

-Honestly, she didn’t like you at first. She felt uncomfortable and felt a little threatened? A little

-You seemed dangerous and could potentially (already has) cause harm. And knowing her she hates fighting or anything overly violent. So it came natural for her to dislike you.

-Seeing that your close friends with Alastor, an overlord that literally murdered other overlords in gruesome ways, and you share the same personality, didn’t come to easy for her.

-She already didn’t have a liking for Alastor and his acts, and now there’s two of you??

-When there are meetings she does not allow her daughters in the same room if you and Alastor are together

-She feels like her children are at risk of being harmed near you two, especially you since you seem…worse than Alastor.

-She does have to admit, your dark acts and optimistic behavior are quite useful during anything that involves fighting or work.

-During meetings due to you always being optimistic, talking out and speaking your mind is much easier. Which Carmilla is 50% thankful for some honest feedback, but also slightly frustrated with it too since she gets enough shit talk from velvette.

-Now you do intrigue her, you’re just so…interesting. It’s like you have no worries or fears on your mind

-When dating, she started to get use to your personality, but she didn’t let you near her daughters for a while.

-once she did let her daughters meet you personally, she was slightly surprised that you were, kind? To them.

-she started to trust you more, even making you go with her daughters to protect them when they drop off materials for the demons who buy Carmillas weapons.

-She does keep an eye on you, not wanting you to be overly crazy or insane, she doesn’t like violence or anything to do with it so she’s basically keeping you on a leash at all times.

A/n: I’m not sure if this was good or not but I tried my best to fit it in! I can remake it better if needed

[localtelephonebooth]

Thoughts on Kieran’s relationship with Ogerpon as a previously obsessive teenager:

(I did not proof read this. I just woke up, had the urge, and now it’s here.)

Kieran, to me, is a very relatable character. He is a shy, and quiet teenager in a small town. He lacks friendships and possibly meaningful connections with those who do spend time with him. He’s probably isolated due to the fact that he lacks a phone. Any friends he does make are likely school based only. So, Kieran latches on to anything he can to feel less alone in life. And of course he latches onto Ogerpon. Ogerpon is just like him. A sad “monster” all isolated and alone in the mountains. I’m certain that Kieran has fantasized about meeting Ogerpon and getting into wild adventures with her. I did the same thing with characters I enjoyed.

Princess Luna, for example (sorry to whiplash anyone with that), was a character I heavily related to. She was alone and isolated due to her previous actions. She struggled with fitting in and having a healthy relationship with her sister for awhile. To say I didn’t form an obsession with a character who understood my feelings would be a lie. I think Kieran is the same.

He became obsessed with Ogerpon. He become obsessed with the ideas he crafted of him and Ogerpon. In a way, that fantasy was VERY real to him. So when we come around and lie about meeting Ogerpon, and inevitably become friends with her behind his back, of course he freaks out! We stole his fantasy of him and Ogerpon! And that’s the key point here that people tend to not realize. We didn’t steal Ogerpon from Kieran, we just stole his fantasy and made it our reality.

With my obsession with princess Luna (again, whiplash), if anyone said they loved princess Luna it was a fucking attack on me. Princess Luna was my best friend, and she could only love me! Everyone else was just a jealous thief.

As an adult looking back on this mindset, it’s horribly embarrassing. It’s a mindset I carried into my real life, when I actually started making friends, that ruined so much for me. I lost friends because I was so angry that my fantasies were not reciprocated. I really do think Kieran does the same. He grows sad and frustrated over what happened with Ogerpon. His fantasy is just a fantasy, and that’s fucking with him. So naturally, he finds a new fantasy to, hopefully in his mind, make a reality. And so he chose battling and winning against you. The thing we used to “steal” Ogerpon away from him (Even though Kieran technically suggested battling for Ogerpon, I don’t doubt he used it to rationalize why she didn’t want to come with him). To him, being the best battler will solve everything. Kieran will get his revenge, he’ll finally be recognized, everyone can’t lie to him because they fear or admire him, and he’ll prove to Ogerpon he was the right choice.

.

Now, I want to say something about Kieran. A detail that, for whatever reason, people don’t like to acknowledge: He’s just a kid.

I’m not saying “He’s a widdle baby. He can do no harm!” No, Kieran’s an asshole. He became a bully. I can have empathy for his emotions, but not excuse his actions. He’s a dumb and entitled teenager with issues. And, quite obviously, he doesn’t really have a way to deal with his issues in a healthy manner (seriously, his school is based solely on battling. Anyone who’s going or gone to a specialized school can understand how toxic people can get in that type of environment. And don’t even get me started on the incompetence of the adults in Kieran’s school).

Kieran is a teenage boy growing up right now. He’s got a lot to work through, and a lot of people he’s gotta confront about his behavior. He was an asshole, a bully, and genuinely a bad person for minute. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t growing past that. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve recognition for his growth. You can recognize someone has changed and not forgive them.

Kieran is a really intriguing character and holds a valuable lesson in obsession. And I really wish people would recognize that he’s not just an irredeemable prick or an innocent little guy. He’s a kid learning. He’s going to make really stupid and bad mistakes. Just like how I, and probably you reading this, did.

Anyways, hopefully we see him interact with the Area Zero buddies. I think those three have amazing lessons that Kieran can learn from. Maybe Kieran can teach them a few things too!

[fatkish]

Heyy, if you dont mind. Could you do a dazawa oneshot in which he has a daughter and he found out she selfharms? Like, he finds her doing it. Practicly hurt/confort

Thanks, have a nice day

(Write it only if you feel comftable with it)

Aizawa x Daughter Reader

(Trigger Warning: the following contains mentions of self harm. If you’re sensitive to that please be advised)

Aizawa is a very busy man. And he’s also a very observant man as well as tired. As his daughter, you try to lighten his workload by helping and doing what you can. Every morning you make bento lunches as well as breakfast for the both of you. If you accidentally cut yourself then you just put a bandage on. Nothing too suspicious. You’re also in the hero course so it’s normal to be a little banged up. Aizawa knows that you’re a good cook but even the best sometimes make mistakes so he isn’t too worried.

You tend to cut yourself and hide them beneath bandages and other small items like watches and such. You had done really well at hiding them. You tried to not do it too often, but as your stress increased, so did your cutting. Eventually you were ‘clumsy’ too often but Aizawa chalked it up to you not getting enough sleep and told you to only make breakfast in the morning and stop making lunches since the school has lunches, so you could get more sleep. If that wasn’t enough then you guys could pick up breakfast.

But even so, the bandages being to stay longer, get bigger. Aizawa knew something wasn’t adding up but what was it? Late one night, Aizawa got home and knocked on your door, opening it only to see you with an Exacto knife at your wrist and multiple cuts. Aizawa’s eyes widened at the sight as the entire world stopped for a moment as he watched the blood drip from the cuts. Silentlyhe walked in and entered your bathroom, and came out with the first aid kit.

He opened it and sat down next to you. Taking the knife from you and without saying a word, he began to clean and treat the cuts before he bandages them. You were worried as he wasn’t saying anything but as you went to ask him something he spoke.

“Do you want to talk about why you’re doing this?”

“I-“

“It’s okay, you can tell me anything. If you need me to fix an issue then I’ll do that, if you just need to talk then I’ll just listen. If you’re uncomfortable with talking to me then we can find someone else for you to talk to. “

He spoke softly as he cleaned and rebandaged all the older cuts. Once he finished he set everything down and looked at you with teary eyes. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly as he kissed your forehead.

“I love you so much. I hope you know that. I’m sorry that you’re going through this but just know that I’m here for you no matter what. You’re my little girl and you’ll always be my little girl. Now, let’s go have some ice cream and maybe watch a movie, or we can just talk if you’re up for that?”

As he stood up and held a hand out to you to help you up off your bedroom floor you looked at him as he turned to leave.

“Aren’t you mad?”

“I’m not mad, I’m sad, yes, but I’m not angry at you. I know that you’re going through something. I’m just upset that I didn’t realize this sooner. You know you can talk to me about anything. Even girl stuff like boys and periods. But I doubt you’d want to talk to your old man about that stuff.” He smiled softly at you as you gave a soft chuckle.

“Dad, you’re not old”

“I know, now c’mon, let’s go”

He motioned for you to follow him as you walked into the kitchen. He pulled a container of your favorite ice cream out of the freezer and scooped some into a bowl before handing the bowl to you. He then scoped a bit out for himself before putting the ice cream back and joining you on the couch in the living room. That night you ate ice cream and snuggled with your dad in his lap as he held you, your head resting on his shoulder as he rubbed your back.

You talked to him about how you were feeling and why. He nodded and stayed calm, listening carefully and reassuring you that he loves you. You ended up falling asleep on his lap. He then carried you back up to your room and laid you down in your bed before pulling the covers over you and kissing your forehead goodnight.

The next morning, you and him, removed all the sharp objects from your room and put them in a box so you wouldn’t have the temptation. Aizawa helped you cook breakfast that morning. (Meaning he mostly watched and drank his coffee as you cooked since he was so tired) you both then left for school.

[justsomegdude]

Pass the time.

Leader!Negan x Alexandria!Gn!Reader

summary: Negan visits alexandria for his weekly supply and decides to flirt with y/n to pass the time.

warning: Negan is a warning in himself, sexual tension!

A/N: Who knows i might make a part two to this. i wrote all of this today because i felt bad that i hadn’t posted since last month!

The weeks seem to just play on repeat when Negan comes to visit. He pesters Rick, Gets his men to get the supplies, Sometimes dealing with conflict depending on what happens in the day. As the familiar sounds of trucks come into earshot, Alexandria’s residents went silent and most went inside houses instantly, The kids rounded up by their parents and forced inside too.

You stopped caring about hiding from Negan weeks ago now, before anytime you saw his face you would remember the ones who you lost by his hands, rather by his ‘most precious lucille’s’ hands. Now? You don’t think about what you’ve lost by him, instead about what you could still lose. You’re close to Rick and his family since you’ve been in his group for years now. So you always make sure Carl and Judith aren’t in harms way.

The gates were opened by spencer, to allow Negan and his men to step foot inside. Familiar whistle ringing through your ears, you turn away to stay on the porch of the house you were gratefully allowed to stay in. If someone needed you, they’d come to find you. You watched Negans men start spreading out into a few groups going to the only places they really take from now, The pantry being the most common. Although it is rare for them to venture into the infirmary, weaponry, or houses, they’ll do it every so often.

Your eyes connected with Negans accidentally. You groan to yourself that he was most likely watching you for a minute before you noticed. Now you wish you’d just stay inside, hoping that he wouldn’t come up. Your prayer was answered and somehow, Negan didn’t come up to you. Instead he strutted over to the pantry along with Rick close but clearly at distance. Sometime you wonder how Negan took Rick by the balls and twisted him into submission.

He used to never be anything but the leader since you met him at the farm. When he was diffusing conflict, helping hershel, beth, maggie, even me. Or how he had killed Shane the night the barn was burned down.. He was always meant to be a leader, so how Negan took control of Rick, it was scary in a way.

You didn’t even realize you started day dreaming until you heard noises, loud noises, from over at the pantry. Instantly standing up to get a good view, Negan seemed to be upset at Olivia, that poor girl. A slow pace towards the pantry to see what’s happening.

“Why can’t you do your job right?” Negans voice spoke menacingly as he leaned in, more so over, Olivia to scare her. Rick was seen near Olivia trying to get Negan to calm down. “Rick, you should really consider a new manager of the food around here, clearly she doesn’t take enough responsibility!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, quickening your pace a little so you were a few feet away from Negan, and Rick. “What’s happening?” You spoke.

Negan turned on his heels towards you. “Little miss manager-of-food, over here didn’t count her supplies correctly!” He said fast, looking back at Rick, then Olivia. “You’re lucky i’m feeling generous today, or else i’d do something physical about this.” Negan seemed more frustrated rather than angry, of course he didn’t care if there was a missing can, he just hated how often people around here wouldn’t do their jobs correctly. “I’m taking an extra can for this… waste of time.” Negan snapped and his men were instantly on it and grabbed an extra can, along with the others already taken and left in a hurry towards the trucks.

You hated this little game Negan played at, his boundaries were but also weren’t set. You wanted to speak up, tell him off, but of course you knew better.

“I’ll be taking a trip to the infirmary next week. If the person who works there, messes up, someone will die.” Negan spoke firmly and with that turned on his heels and walked towards his trucks. Your eyes connect with Ricks, and then you looked at Olivia.

Rick was the next to leave towards the gate, probably the one to close it behind the saviors today. Olivia was crying, she was so sensitive you felt bad for her. “Olivia…” You said her name quietly and went over to put your hand on her shoulder. “It’s just Negan being Negan, you don’t have to cry over it..” You put on the best reassuring voice you could. Olivia nodded and wiped her tears.

“I swear i counted correctly this time..” Olivia’s voice was cracking, and soft. She meant it, and you felt bad for her.

“Hey it’s—“ you were cutoff by someone yelling your name. “Sorry Olivia gotta check on what that’s about-“ With that you left with a quick pace towards the yell, the main gate.

“Y/N!” Yelled again, now closer you knew the root of the noise. Rick. Now jobbing over towards Rick. The gate was closed and the trucks were gone, the saviors already left. “y/n.” He spoke lowly. “We got a team heading out in a few hours for a supply run nearby, i’m going with. I need you to stay with Carl and Judith for me, okay?” Rick smiled. This wasn’t a reason to yell your name, so you softly shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I didn’t know if you were still at the pantry or not, sorry if it seemed like i was in need.”

With a sigh you looked back up at Rick. “Yeah i can watch them. Come find me next time, thought i was in trouble or someone else was.” He nodded in understanding. “I gotta get to the infirmary, check on those supplies for next week’s visit from Negan, come by when you’re leaving so i can head over.

~~

As you sat down in your chair at the infirmary, checking over supplies. You weren’t like Olivia, you’d triple check everything even when one thing is added to the supply, you’ll check everything again. It was one of the things to cure your boredom or when, cases like this, happen. Your feet propped up on your desk while there was a box in your lap. You organize everything about twice a week now. It was just a way to pass time. Sitting at your desk for hours now, you lost track of time until there was a knock at your door, writing down the count you had, and then separating the counted vs uncounted so you could finish later.

“y/n?” Rick voice was heard as you walked towards the door. The door creaked while you opened it. “Hey! We’re getting ready to leave in a few minutes here, you got-“ You cut him off.

“Watch over Carl and Judith, yep!” You smiled, and grabbed your notebook from your desk. “I’ll head over now.” Ricks hand went to your shoulder.

“Thanks y/n, i know i can count on you.” Rick spoke, leaving shortly before you did.

~~

Over the week, since Negans visit, you’ve checked the infirmary multiple times. You didn’t want to lose anyone. Negans patterns on showing up varied, sometimes he’ll show up days early, or days later. Shocking enough, he visited exactly a week from lasts visit. He had to mean business on what he said with the stock. Quickly making your way to the infirmary, to avoid them going through it without you.

Once inside the infirmary, and since you already checked the stock many.. many times, you sat on your desk and were just doodling in your notebook. You kept that notebook on you almost all the time, there were doodles and sayings, but you also kept things special to you written in it, people’s names, items from your childhood, it was just a reminder for yourself that there are good things to think about in this new world.

You heard a knock at the door, assuming it was Rick you just said, “Come in.”, still doodling in your book. Once the door opened the footsteps that followed were heavier than Ricks. Your eyes shot up and instantly connected with the man just a few feet from you. Negan. “oh, i thought-“ You started but it would sound dumb so you didn’t finish. Closing your notebook and setting it aside.

“You thought..?” Negans eyebrows raise as he takes a slow, dragging, walk over to you. Intimidation tactic that didn’t quite work on you.

“I thought you were Rick.” You spoke truthfully, you didn’t have a reason to lie, but you did have a reason not to tell him. He nodded and leaned against your desk.

There was an uncomfortable silence. How to stop it, not sure. You felt him staring so you looked up at him. connecting with his hazel eyes, that you damned yourself for realizing the color of. “So Ricky the Pricky got you doing infirmary work?” Negans voice filled up the silence, you couldn’t tell if silence or his voice were worse.

“I enjoy it, and am probably the only one to actually know what they’re doing.. so yeah?” You said back, finally forcing your eyes out the window instead of at him.

Your peripheral though, kept him in view. you saw his face rise up and you glanced at him. he was smirking. Knowing a stupid remark was coming. “Are you calm around me, or are you just the shy type?” That wasn’t that you expected of him.

“What?” Your eyebrows stitch together as you looked back at him, this time his eyes trained on the floor.

He clicked his tongue before talking again. “most people here, would be glaring up a storm. talking me out of being in the same room as them.“ He finally met your eyes. He was smiling, his stupid usual smile. “Hell, some would flip me the bird by now. Not you, why?” He was one for always keeping eye contact, so you did too.

You took a little longer to answer, thinking of an appropriate response. “I don’t know.” You shrugged. What were you supposed to say? The reason people cower away is because well.. they’re cowards. You’ve been put in situation and Negan, as intimidating as he is to eveyrone, doesn’t intimidate you. “Why should i be scared, when all you’re doing is sitting… well leaning, next to me.” Was all the reason you could muster up.

This made Negan let out a laugh. “Honestly i’d get upset if you were scared of me.. you’re such a pretty (girl/boy) I mean, why would i want someone like you scared of me?” He flirted, you don’t know if it was to purposely make you uncomfortable, or just him being bored, hell maybe he just wanted to flirt with you. you didn’t know. Finally breaking eye contact to look down. “Ah, did i strike a little sensitive spot? can’t handle being complimented?” Negan was talking in a way that made you feel like you were being made fun of. He was just playing his game, this wasn’t anything to do with you in specific.

Your view was set onto the floor under your feet. Not looking back up at him. You didn’t want to reply until he took a gentle grasp of your jaw and made you look at him. “Don’t get all shy now.” His voice was low and raspy, purposely sending a shiver down your spine. He kept his firm grip, and stared into your eyes.

“I..” you started quietly, you don’t know what to say. “It was just..” You paused, not knowing how to word it. “I just don’t get compliments a lot, and it’s weird coming from you..” You spoke truthfully.

He hummed quietly, nodding. Still not letting go of your jaw. He wanted you to look at him. “You’re trembling.” He smirked, you didn’t even realize but when you did your mouth opened to say something, but Negan being faster. “I bet i could get you wrapped around my finger if i tried. Compliment you more.” His smirk increased as he leaned in. it was only teasing.. he’d never actually kiss you.

“Negan..” You whispered his name. He shushed you, his hand moving from grasping your jaw into pinching your chin in between his pointer and thumb. He lifted your head up a little.

Negan moved his body to standing before you, his grip still just as firm. Subconsciously your legs separated as you leaned back just a little, a way to get further away from him. He took this as an invitation, stepping in between your legs. His hand went to the table right next to your hip, leaning over you now.

“Do i scare you y/n y/l/n?” Negan spoke. Your breathing quickened. Maybe you were uncomfortable, or maybe you somehow found this attractive. He leaned over just a little more, his thighs rubbing against yours a bit.

Negan licked his lips. “No.. of course not.” You spoke, less firm than you wanted too. “I’m just…” You actually didn’t know what to say.

Negans hand slid from the table onto your thigh. His eyes went to his own hand before back to your eyes. “so if you’re not scared.. why is your breath heavy?” He smirked, knowing how he affected you.

Your eyes went to his arm, since his hand was still on your chin you couldn’t quite look completely at where his hand laid. Negan finally let go of your chin. No response from you.

“Speak when spoken to.” He spoke, you leaned up to sit a little more comfortably, even though getting closer to Negan. His thumb rubbed your thigh, made you even more speechless.

“I’m.. awkward, under the circumstances.” you whispered, you watched his thumb rub at your thigh. “Why are you doing this..?” You tilted your head.

He leaned closer now your lips only a few inches apart. “Because you’re letting me.” His gripped your thigh now instead of rubbing it. No one’s touched you like this and you didn’t know how to react. “Can i kiss you?” His voice was quiet, his eyes weren’t looking away from your lips.

You didn’t know, you wanted it but remembering who he was your hand went to his chest and gently pushed him back. “This is a bad idea.” Negan only smirked at your response. His hand stoped holding your thigh, grabbing the bottles of medicine and stepping back.

“Well i hope to see you around y/n. Keep me and what i just did in your thoughts.” He winked, leaving the infirmary. Instant regret with how you just rejected something that you most definitely wanted. You damned yourself for being scared.

tag list :)!!

@pinchofhoney / @starstruck-loner

[lynzishell]

The Present 💚 Copperdale

Prev // Next

Transcript under the cut:

Julian:  Have you read it yet? Phoenix: No. I don’t know if I can. I’ve just been staring at it for the last hour. Julian: Do you want me to read it? Phoenix: Um. Yeah. Would you?

Julian:

Dear Phoenix,

I’ve written this letter dozens of times over the years. I only hope I can find the courage to give it to you one day. You likely don’t want anything to do with me, and I understand that, but I want you to know how sorry I am. Sorry for abandoning you and your mom, for not being there for you as you grew up, or when she passed, for everything.

The truth is, I wasn’t capable of being the father you needed back then, and that wasn’t your fault, nor was it what you deserved.

I’ve debated many times over the years about whether reaching out to you would do more harm than good. I have a bad habit of taking from people, of sucking them dry, and leaving them worse off than when I found them. So, I thought maybe it’s best that I stay gone, leave you to live your life.

If you’ve made it this far, you’re probably wondering what’s changed. Why am I reaching out to you now?  Well, eight years ago, everything changed. Eight years ago, I had another son. His mother died due to complications during childbirth, and suddenly there I was, barely a year sober with a newborn baby in my arms and nowhere to go. The only person I had left to turn to was my sponsor. Luckily, his family had a ranch in Chestnut Ridge, and said we could live there as long as I took care of the house and the property and the animals. A lot of work for a single father with a baby. Those first few years were the hardest of my life, but we got through it.

I’m nine years sober now, and Danny will be starting fourth grade in the fall.

He’s been asking a lot of questions lately about family.

I haven’t told him about you yet. I wanted to reach out to you first. If you’re interested in meeting him or speaking to him, I’m sure he’d be thrilled. But, if not, if you prefer to be left alone, then I’ll respect that.

For what it’s worth, I’m not just reaching out for him. Every single day I look at him and I’m reminded of you. I see all the things I missed out on. All the things I was never there for. And it eats me up. I know that’s my doing. It’s mine to live with. But, on the off chance you’re willing to speak to me, I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere this time.

Sincerely, Joseph Vega

Phoenix: … Julian: What do you think? Phoenix: I don’t know. I hate not knowing what the right answer is. Julian: I don’t think there is a right or wrong answer. Phoenix: Doesn’t feel that way.

Julian: Look, all I know is, for the first time the choice is yours. Your whole life, other people have been making it for you. Whether it was your dad by leaving, or your mom by not allowing him to come back. But now, if you want to know him, you can. If not, you don’t have to. But for once, you get to make that choice for yourself. It’s not about deciding what’s right, it’s about deciding what you want.

Phoenix: I don’t want to know him. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a father, and that’s okay. I’ve made my peace with that. I’m not even angry with him anymore. He’s not worth the energy to be angry. I think it’s great that he’s doing well, and that he has a second chance to be a father. But he’s not mine, and he never will be. Dawn might hate me for it, but there’s no place for him in my life.

Julian: Okay, then we can toss this letter in the fire and never speak of it ag— Phoenix: But… Julian: But? Phoenix: The kid. Danny. I need to know he’s okay. And I need him to know that, if he’s ever not okay, I’m here, I’m his brother and if he ever needs help, he can come to me. I want him to know he’s not alone.

Julian: So, you want to call him? Phoenix: No, I want to see him. In person. Julian: You’re gonna go all the way to Chestnut Ridge? Phoenix: Yeah. Yeah, I am. Will you come with me? Julian: Of course.

[miamochi-writes]

Hi! I’m the one who requested the Vash x reader and Wolfwood x reader scenarios of them having nightmares. Thank you so much! You wrote it so beautifully, my heart couldn’t handle how cute and sweet it was! 💖

I wanted to request if you could do the same thing but how would Vash and Wolfwood react separately to the reader getting hurt by someone? Bonus if you write for Knives too? The way you write him is so beautiful too 😭💖

I'm so glad you liked it! <3 And I can definitely take a shot at this :) Hope you like it :)

The Guys Being Protective

Vash

The minute this man finds out you're injured, your well-being is his first priority. He needs to know that you're okay before he decides his next move. If it is a minor injury, like a bruise or no bleeding, he'll probably let out a sigh of relief or give you a quick kiss. Vash is more likely going to caress your face or hold you very close to him without hurting you. He's thankful that you're still breathing and still by his side. Yet, he will remind you to be more careful next time. Vash has already lost many important people in his life, and he's not going to lose you too.

Although, if this injury is serious, Vash's fight-or-flight is going to kick in. He is going to make sure you're out of harm's way and that you get the necessary treatment possible. If anything, he'll try to patch you up with what he has available or rush to find someone to take care of you immediately. Vash is already restless that you're hurt, but would be devastated if your condition got worse.

If you even dare try to brush off your injuries as nothing, you're going to make him feel worse. He's only okay with him doing that to others, not when you do that. He's already beating himself up that you got hurt under his watch and that he didn't prevent it. So be sure to give him lots of cuddles and kisses to reassure him before he spirals. Make sure you tell him that he's not at fault and that you stay by him no matter what he says. He's been through so much, so you comforting him and showering him with kisses should do the trick.

Afterwards, he's going to ask you who did this to you. This man will find and go after whoever hurt you. Because if Vash finds the culprit, this person needs to run for their life. Vash may be Love and Peace, but that goes out the window if anyone hurts the people he loves and cares about, especially when it comes to you. He values you way too much. If he catches the culprit, Vash will make sure they don’t hurt you again. If this person gave you minor injuries, Vash will try to warn them not to do it again. But if that fails or if this person gave you serious wounds, Vash will use his fighting skills or his gun, (no killing obviously) I’m sure of it.

Let me just remind you, this is the same man who took out a good chunk of the Badlands Boys when the people in the Sand Steamer were under attack. Don't forget, this is also the same man who threatened E.G. Mine to disarm the bombs or else he'd make sure he wouldn't get away unscathed. Have you seen Vash angry? He may be babygirl, but he will punch, fight, chokehold, and bite whoever hurts you. Period. Vash will fight for you and your safety until the end of time.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood

If Wolfwood finds out you got injured there's a bunch of scenarios of what could happen. But they all to lead one thing, him beating the hell out of whoever laid a finger on you. It doesn't matter if you got a bruise, scratch, cut, wound, or mark, this man is going to be worried sick about you. Despite how cold, stoic, or teasing he is, Wolfwood has a big heart for you. He's cares way too much to brush off your injuries. Although after a minute or two, this man will be seething with rage. No one hurts you and walks away it.

Of course he's going to check up on you and see how bad the damage is. If Wolfwood finds out you're lying about the pain or hiding any other injuries, his anger is going to boil over. Not at you, but at the person who did this to you. But, he would rather you tell him honestly. Wolfwood has the biggest soft spot for you and would hate it if you lied about being fine. This man has already lost Livio, and he refuses to lose you too.

This man is invincible, but you're not. He knows you only have one life and he's going to make sure you live it to the fullest with him. Once Wolfwood is done looking you over, he's hunting down the person who did this to you. He's going to give you the: "I just want to talk to the person is all." Which means, "I'm going to beat the living shit out of this person."

No one messes with The Punisher and his loved ones. Just remember that this man carries the heaviest and deadliest cross weapon in No Man's Land. So imagine the beating this person gets once Wolfwood finds them. It doesn't matter how much they run, Wolfwood will find them and make sure they know what happens if they hurt you or anyone else again. Let's face it, Wolfwood is not going to let this person live unless you or Vash stop or convince him.

Once Wolfwood settles things with the person who hurt you, you're not leaving his sight. He's going to be taking care of you to the best of his abilities and making sure you get plenty of rest. This man will need lots of reassurance from you that you're doing okay so he'll be sticking by you a lot more. Probably going to cling onto you with hugs and kisses and giving you his lollipops. Call him Nicholas from time to time in private and this man will be putty in your hands.

Knives Million

Knives is someone who rarely wears his heart on his sleeve. But if it involves you, he'll only show his feelings in private with you. So imagine what is going on with Knives internally when he finds out someone hurt you. That stoic face? Gone. Composure? Shaken up. His blades? Ready to cut someone up with no hesitation.

If you're a human, Knives knows that humans are delicate and don't live long compared to him. If he sees a cut or a minor scratch, he'll tell you to be mindful of your actions. He knows those kinds of wounds will recover in no time. However, if he even sees a bruise, any deep cuts, or bleeding, Knives is not going to let that pass.

If you're a plant and Knives finds out someone hurt you as mentioned above, there's no stopping him from seeking revenge. Knives will send Con'rad to tend to your wounds. If Con'rad doesn't do a good job of patching you up, the plant will have a long and menacing talk with him alone. If you can bring joy, solace, or even fill the lonely void Knives has within him, of course he's going to hold you in high regard. You are beyond special to him and will make sure no one lays a finger on you. Or rather, make sure no one takes you away from him.

Knives will demand you tell him who did this to you. If it was someone from outside his humble abode or lower ranking men that hurt you, he's going to off them immediately. Plus he never liked most humans, so less people for him to worry about. However, if he finds out it was one of the more important men like Legato, Con'rad, or any other high ranking follower...good luck. He's probably going to make their punishment slow and painful. Knives will reiterate what happens if they dare even hurt you and that they should consider themselves lucky that he's keeping them alive. He’ll probably make an example of someone if he catches them hurting you again.

Once he's done taking care of things, Knives will go check up on you to see how you're doing. He will take time out of his schedule, more importantly his alone time, to see you. Knives needs to know that you're doing okay and healing from your injuries. If you visit him while he's playing piano, he'll beckon you to sit with him and play you a song. If you try to play along with him, you're going to brighten this man's day.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

everyone else might have moved on from their baby fever but I’m still suffering through mine.

How about m6 with a kid who puts anything and everything in their mouth (totally not inspired by my younger relatives)??

The Arcana Mini-HCs: M6 when their kid puts everything in their mouth

Julian: doctor brain: "It's a normal stage. Toddlers do this to develop, it's up to us as parents to provide them with an enriching environment." parent brain: "MY LEECHES ARE NOT CANDY, NO NO NO -"

Asra: who's to say the adults are in the right here? why not try tasting all the things? sets out to put everything in their mouth that their kid does and then wonders why they get sick. the table has teeth marks now

Nadia: so stressed, because 1) telling her child 'no' is always met with an angry face, 2) they could eat something genuinely harmful, and 3) she doesn't want them to be haunted by embarrassing childhood stories

Muriel: he should probably be a little more concerned than he is, if only because he trusts Inanna's judgement on what forest floor items are sanitary a little too much. she thinks raw meat is fine if it's fresh (it's not)

Portia: the cottage is baby-proofed, each room has several teething toys that are safe to put in their mouth, and as tidy as she likes things to be, Portia's not worried about a few germs here and there. this kid is all set

Lucio: his instinct is to worry for his kid, of course, but he also finds it way too hilarious to see what all they want to taste. is the type to offer them a lemon slice or chili pepper just to see the reaction they have

[blazethecheeto]

let it out and let it go

Summary: Logan is angry. Logan has been angry for a long, long time. When things get worse, Patton steps in to help.

Words: 3,937

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdowns, Implied/Referenced Self Harm

|| ao3 link ||

___________________________________________

i am so, so angry, but it is caged.

can you blame me for taking a knife and hoping that if i cut long enough, deep enough, it will finally find a way to leave?

-

The argument is as familiar as the sun setting. Roman’s yelling about Logan cutting out ‘karaoke night’ from Thomas’s schedule, and Logan’s trying to address how little time they have left to finish their next commitment. There’s overlapping voices, there’s lots of swearing, and Patton’s about to step in to break up the fight when someone else does. 

“–So suddenly having a bit of fun is irrelevant in our schedule now?” Roman motions to Thomas’s general direction. 

Logan scoffs. “Having a ‘bit of fun’ is not the priority. Thomas needs to finish his work, the work he promised to get done by tonight. Then, and only then, can he fulfill other frivolous matters like karaoke.”

"Can't you see, Logan?" Roman gestures emphatically towards Thomas. "He needs a break, a moment of respite from the constant labour you put him through! He's not a machine . "

Unlike you.

The unspoken words linger for a brief, horrible moment between them, and Patton presses his hands together, cracking his knuckles nervously as he watches Logan’s face. He merely closes his eyes, clenching his jaw, before speaking again.

“We cannot afford any distractions tonight. He needs to take some responsibility for once .”

“Excuse me, he needs this, not only to improve his voice for tomorrow’s rehearsal, but to spend time with his friends.” Roman’s voice drops, becomes gritty and mean. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? You don’t have any .” 

The silence in the room seems to swallow the rest of the tension. Roman’s hand flies to his mouth, but the damage is done. The glass cracks. The stone drops. Patton’s eyes dart to Logan. He grinds his teeth together, and he can see the glare in his glasses flash a shade of deep orange. No . 

“Logan, I– I’m sorry–” Roman says first, his words choppy and hesitant, like he is trying to calm an unleashed beast. 

“Sorry? Oh, you’re fucking sorry. Now I’ll just sink out and let you have your way, right?” He says, his voice overlapping with a familiar wrath, his shadow on the stairs behind him growing and growing. 

Virgil appears, almost suddenly, scaring Patton out of his wits. He thought he had grown used to it by now, but it seems like he hasn’t grown used to anything. 

“What the hell is going on?” Virgil’s voice is multiplied, his eyes darting back and forth between the three Sides. 

“Roman said I don’t have any friends!” Logan’s words are clipped, almost in a sing-song voice. Like something had taken control, and none of them wanted to say it. “Interesting isn’t it, how you team up with me when it’s convenient, then lash out when I dare to contradict your egotistical views.”

He took a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself. The shadow crawling up behind Logan, waiting to strike. Virgil’s face goes pale once he sees it.

“Logan, of course you have friends, don’t listen to his bullshit. You’re better than him.” Virgil growls, his voice low and masking his terror, and Patton has a feeling he isn’t talking about Roman anymore.

“Do you think I’m angry about not forming interpersonal bonds? That despite it all, I am not a true part of this family?” He presses his hands against his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m not, I’m not .”

His voice distorts with every repetition, and Thomas and Roman exchange a desperate look. Virgil bites his tongue, cursing under his breath. 

Patton hesitates, then reaches out to him.

“Lo–”

He whips his head to Patton, and in that moment, his stomach drops with certainty. They had lost him. “ Fuck. You. Patton . You think you know what’s right and wrong, what’s good and evil?”

The figure laughs, his hair messy and his tie askew. He turns to face Roman, his grin tiger-sharp and his anger radiating off of his skin. “You don’t know true justice.” 

Virgil closes his eyes. Thomas backs away. Roman screams.

The figure pounces.

-

Logan isn’t quite sure what’s in his mind and what’s real until after he regains control. 

He remembers the feeling of skin in his hands, of flesh as it gets ripped off, of slaps and punches and screaming until his throat is raw. He remembers Patton holding him back, his blue eyes meeting him in one breath of air before he is drowning again. 

He is drowning in the orange haze, buried underneath years of repressed pain and ignorance. He feels as if he cannot breathe. He feels like he might die under the haze, underneath the blur of violence and horrid sounds he cannot control. He cries out for Patton, for Thomas, for Virgil. They don’t come. 

When everything subsides, he is in his room again, his hands tied down to the bed. His tie is askew, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he is physically alright. Of course I am, he reminds himself. He is nothing more than a figment of Thomas’s imagination. Even the damage dealt to the others will heal. He swears he can feel blood dripping from his hands, but when he looks, they are pale and dry.

A thorn twists inside him, but he knows they tied him up for his own good. With one grunt, Logan yanks the restraints off and sits up, the silence overwhelming. 

He sits and breathes in the smoke. His bed is made, smoothed and pressed as if it does not know anger. It does not know unrest, and never had one wrinkle in its navy-blue duvet. 

Logan knows better. 

He gets up, finally. He looks at himself in the mirror, at his tired eyes. He barely remembers what they were fighting about. God, Logan doesn’t even remember why he attacked Roman like that.

“Lies…” A familiar, vengeful voice whispers in his ear, but he flinches and turns away. “He was never your friend.”

Logan doesn’t care. He finds he doesn’t care whether they have hated him since he appeared in Thomas’s mind, a smudge of blue, data and information streaming through his eyes, his hands, his head, his soul. That was all he was supposed to be. Why couldn’t he stay like that?

He doesn’t know what he is doing wrong. He’s tried to push down any hint of frustration. He’s repressed his hatred, and any other semblance of emotion. The small jabs towards his appearance, towards his personality. How Thomas seemed to turn to Roman, Patton, even Janus now, for advice, while he clutches his papers to his chest, burning with an anger the algorithm never meant for him. He’s tried to fight him for so long. 

It never seems to work.

Logan remembers how he had resorted to drastic measures, hurting himself to quiet the voice, to release chemicals that made his soul twist inside out, pain in every fingerprint left on those cold, sticky, knives. He can still see them now, out of the corner of his eye, stuffed into the bin along with all the plans he made with Thomas on rare good days. 

“You can’t escape me unless you hurt them. Because you hate them, don’t you?” The voice hisses, norepinephrine flooding through his body. “The only way to stop it is to tear them apart.”

He shakes his head. “That can’t be the only solution.”

Without warning, the knife twists deep into his chest as he remembers what he did to them, what he screamed, what he felt when he lost control. The venom in his voice burns in his own lips. Logan hates it, hates his own hatred, hates that he can feel bile crawling its way up the very back of his throat, scalding the corners of his eyes.

He feels like a forest fire. Burning away, absolutely out of control.

“You wanted them to die. Admit it, it wasn’t just me. You wanted them to continue screaming. For them to never stop. You want to make them see you, not have their gazes glaze over you, no, but for them to listen. You hope they will burn till the end of time, and you will get to watch, conscious as they relive the pain they put you through for thirty-five long years.”

Logan presses his hands down on the dresser, looking away from his reflection. He was right. Of course he was right. Those were his darkest thoughts, the ones he saved for when he was in a dark room, his head bowed, hot tears running down his cheeks as he took deep breaths to stifle his pain. But he would never carry out those thoughts. He can’t keep hurting them like this, even if the results weren’t permanent. They were permanent to his soul, to Thomas’s soul.

He glances back at his reflection. For a moment, he sees himself with jagged claws and ripping teeth, eyes alight with rotten wrathfulness. Logan doesn’t look away, only grips the dresser tighter. A trick of the light, he tells himself, as that is the most logical solution. He blinks once. The image is gone. 

“This needs to stop,” he says softly, quietly, like if he said it any louder, someone would clap a gag around his mouth and drag him underneath the waves again. 

This needs to stop. 

-

Patton knocks first.

He knows he hasn’t always been good at that.

“Logan? I just wanted to come check in on you kiddo, can I come in?” He says, his head gently pressing against Logan’s bedroom door. It’s wooden and cold, a perfectly straight rectangle, with the exception of a blue splotch on the door handle. A sparkling star that is slowly fading, covered by the new coat of dull paint.

Patton remembers when Roman used to bug Logan to decorate his door just a little, to make their Mindscape look more like a ‘Homescape’. When he gave in, they had both decked out his door with glitter, planet stickers, courtesy of Patton, plastered against the wood, and swirling computer code written on the sides. Logan hadn’t liked it at first. He thought it was too distracting, meaningless, and ugly to look at. That had really hit Roman’s nerves, and they had one of their many fights. 

He screamed about how Logan never appreciated the beauty in anything, while Logan argued he didn’t want his door so fully drenched in sparkle, while Patton stood in the middle. After they had enough, storming off in opposite directions, Patton was the one to find Roman and convince him to apologize. 

In the end, Logan agreed to let one star sticker stay on his door handle, because he did appreciate the thought. Roman sprinkled extra glitter on that one, to ‘shine bright in his darkest days’, he had said with a smile.

Now, Patton swallows as he looks down at the sticker, covered by years of hatred. He can’t let that be his last fond memory of them before…before–

Logan opens the door. His hair is gelled back, tie tucked into his shirt, his collar smoothened. Patton wants to cry when he sees the dullness in his eyes, the slight tremble in his hands when they lean against the door. 

“Are you okay?”

“I am alright, of course I am. Thank you for the measures you took to ensure I did not hurt anyone.” He hesitated, then added, “I didn’t…hurt anyone, did I?”

Patton closes his eyes, remembering how he tore at Roman like a rabid dog– well not him , exactly, but it didn’t make things easier when it was Logan’s body. Thomas was horrified, so Janus took the reins and removed the memory from his brain, before taking control of the situation with a swift hand and a grave look. 

“Kinda? You hurt Roman, but it’s all impermanent. Jan stepped in before things got too bad.” When Logan sighs, turning away from him, he quickly adds, “I am sorry I had to tie you down like that, it’s not your fault–”

“I know. It is partly mine, though. I am more susceptible to his …attacks, because of this.” He motions to his general person, the dullness in his eyes quickly breaking into a vulnerable one. “I am going to hurt you one day, and it will be real.”

Patton’s hand instinctively reaches for Logan’s hand, but he stops himself, pulling his arm back. Boundaries, Pat. “Do you need help?”

Logan looks at him as if he had sprouted three horns, like he had just asked him a trick question, like when Patton had snapped at him to stop talking, a long long time ago. But then he looks down at his hands, taking a long breath. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he says very quietly, so quietly Patton isn’t sure he even said it. But then he looks up at him again and lets him in his room. 

He steps in tentatively, looking around. Papers and calendars are stacked in towers, sticky notes crumpled on the floor, and a dull white desk is shoved in the corner. Then he sees the knives. As the door clicks behind them, Patton turns back to Logan, pressing his hands together again. 

He wants to scold him for not telling him about this sooner. He wants to wrap him into his arms and whisper reassurance that everything will be okay. He wants to fall to his knees and apologize for leading him to this point. He does none of those things. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts, and winces. Patton has found himself saying those two words too often lately. “I’m so sorry for everything, Logan. You needed help, and we just…brushed you aside. We thought you would hold all of us up as we dealt with our problems, but we were never there for you.”

“I know you are,” Logan says, but his voice is still leashed, like he is trying to hold back his true emotions on the matter. “It frustrates me that I can’t control myself lately. I’ve always been…so good at it.”

This , Patton thinks, this he gets. The puzzle pieces fit together, not symmetrically, but like a broken mug, holding each other up after being shattered. He can see the loneliness and the isolation of feelings unsaid.

“I think I know the feeling,” he laughs sadly, his knuckles flexing as he speaks. “You tell everyone you’re fine, that the heartache and bitterness will stay inside you like blood because it’s where it belongs. You think it will just go away if it stays there long enough.”

Logan nods, his eyes so painfully hopeful. “Does it?”

Patton shakes his head, feeling tears press in the back of his throat when he sees Logan’s expression. The knives they hold look identical in the light. “No. You’re– you’re suffocating those feelings, burying them deeper and deeper until they kill you. You made a grave within yourself and locked the casket. You can’t keep repressing…you taught me that.”

Logan clenches his fists. “Then what do I do? The other option is purely destruction, and I can’t– I won’t hurt anyone.”

“I’m not asking you to. You can’t lock away your emotions, or they will eat away at you until there’s nothing left, kiddo.”

He sees his gaze twitch to the knives in the corner, and Patton shakes his head. He knows. The blades were meant to silence, and maybe it did, for a short period of time, but in the end, there is no relief, only guilt, only grief. 

“Blood does not quiet the pain, no matter how many times you spill it,” Patton says quietly. 

“I just want to make it stop. But I don’t want to give into that rage.”

“It’s the only way. You need to get it all out now, so that there’s less there when he tries to take the reins. He won’t have that ammo.”

Logan shakes his head, blinking back tears that involuntarily sprung to his eyes. “I’ve carefully maintained myself for so long, and now you’re telling me to just…give in? So what, the rage wins?”

“It’s okay to feel rage. You’re not giving into anything. You need to feel it, feel it in all its ugliness, and then let it out so you can let it go .” Patton explains vehemently, but Logan just shakes his head again, pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses sliding up on his face. 

“I can’t.” 

The illusion of stability is cracking between both of them, a mirror breaking beneath their feet. Patton is scared no one will be left to gather the remains. 

“I–” Logan stops at this, running a shaky hand through his hair, his eyes wet and blurry and devastating. “I don’t want to lose control.”

Patton sees him. He understands him. He sees his own terrified reflection in Logan’s glasses as he crosses his arms as if he could fold in on himself until he disappears. 

“Please.” He moves towards him, towards his folded body, and slowly places his soft hands on his shoulders. “You need to.”

Logan meets his eyes, his arms trembling as he uncrosses them. Finally, finally , he pushes Patton aside, as if he doesn’t want to hurt him. The anger burns in his eyes, but not flaming orange. No, this anger was deep, sad, blue. He takes a deep breath, turning away. He clenches and unclenches his fists. He stares at the bin of broken promises and sharp, temporary relief. 

Then, he screams.

-

Logan doesn’t want Patton to be there at first. 

He doesn’t want him to see his breakdown, the emotion more than he’s ever shown any of the Sides. He hasn’t even shown himself this level of vulnerability. 

“I hate you. I fucking hate you! ” He screams again, punching a pillow, his voice choked and raw. He doesn’t know whether it's aimed at Roman, Virgil, Thomas, or him.

He picks up the bin, the bin filled to the brim with schedules and lists Thomas promised to do. With a strangled cry, he throws it at the bedroom dresser. The mirror shatters, leaving him alone with thousands of glinting silver eyes staring up at him from the floor.

He wonders whether he has become nothing but an echo of himself, leaving behind ash and rage. It burns in his eyes, through his heart and legs and chest. He smashes and screams and hits and cries. But this, this is Logan’s pain. Not his , not Thomas’s. 

Logan’s .

He takes a textbook and throws it against the wall, the noise loud and disruptive. He hates it almost as much as he hates everything right now. The emotion is overwhelming, god , it’s so, so overwhelming. His hands tremble as he punches the wall.

“I– I wanna kill you all.” He sobs. “Do you have any fucking idea how you made me feel? How you made me feel for years ? I was nothing to you. I did everything for you. I just wanted you to listen to me.”

He grips his hair, his eyes closed tightly as he sinks to his knees. He can’t see Patton anymore, only the blurry image of his bed, of furniture trashed around him, of sticky notes ripped apart like snowflakes plastered to his skin. 

“I just– I just wanted you to listen.” 

He cries for hours, or minutes, or seconds, but Logan can’t tell. He just knows he stays pressed against his bed, his head buried in his knees for a long time. He’s so, so angry. 

Then, after an eternity, he feels Patton sit down next to him. His presence is comforting, until he realizes he had seen his entire meltdown. Logan wants to cry again. Instinctively he tries to wipe his tears away, but he remembers. 

Let it out, and let it go.

He lets the tears fall.

Loneliness had always been his crutch, a grave and an embrace that kept him company, tucked away behind numbers and data. Patton was right. It did feel like he had broken out of his casket. Losing control wasn’t so bad when it was his own anger– and he realizes with a start, that he hadn’t heard his voice the entire time he was breaking down. 

He finally raises his head, the unbearable weight that he had been carrying for years suddenly lighter. Patton is watching him closely, but with understanding, rather than malice. Logan is startled to see tears in his eyes too. He wipes his face, feeling his heartbeat slow, and his breathing grow steadier. After another silence, he asks seemingly no one, his face turned to the mess in front of them. 

“Does it ever get better?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Patton’s face looks rueful, his gold frames sparkling in the shadows of Logan’s room. He feels an overwhelming swell of gratitude for the man sitting beside him, who had witnessed him at his worst, who hadn’t touched him or tried any sweet words, which would have made his skin crawl with fury. 

Instead, he looks down at his hands, cracking his knuckles. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

Logan knows. He knew, he has known that they were all falling apart. Thomas was heading down a horrible path, and he didn’t know whether he could keep him out for another month, even with letting go of all of his own pent-up anger. And yet…

“We’ll find out together.”

The words pass over his lips, determined. Patton turns to him, his eyes wide. It morphs into a small smile, and he pushes himself up, standing above him. 

“Yeah. We will.” 

There’s one more thing though…the thorn is still twisting at his side. Logan remembers how he had screamed so hatefully, how he genuinely wished Roman was dead. He never wants to feel like that again, but for that to happen, he needed closure.

“I need to apologize to Roman. And Virgil…I think I gave them both a scare.” He chuckles, his brow furrowing in worry. 

“You don’t owe it to them,” Patton tilts his head, but Logan can see that he was hoping he would say that. 

“I do. I’ve been too angry at Roman for a long, long time. I think I’ve just been repressing it. I don’t want to hurt him again.”

Patton nods once, outstretching his hand to Logan. “Come on then, we won’t let that happen.” 

He allows one smile to pass his face, taking a look backward at his room. The smashed furniture, ripped books, and tears staining his sheets, chains hanging off the bed frame. He knows that everything will be perfect the next time he enters. It always is. 

But he isn’t. He never has been. As he looks back at Patton and his hand outstretched, it almost feels like a sincere apology. It almost feels like a fresh start. 

He exhales, smoothing his hair back. “Thank you, Patton.”

Patton’s eyes are a deep ocean of possibilities and sunlight. He smiles, like they had just fit two puzzle pieces together, not perfectly, never perfectly, but like a broken promise, holding each other up after being shattered. “Anytime.”

Logan knows the problem isn’t going away, if it ever does. But as he steps closer to the doorknob, his hand waving over the paint and letting the blue star glow, he knows that for once, he might be able to let it out and let it go, one day at a time. 

[itsabouttimex2]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE YOUR AU!!!!! IT'S SO GOOD!!! op, your ideas are fantastic, you're really creative and an awesome writer!! 💫🌟

The monkiefam dynamic is so fun to read about — and pretty sad in MK's case, the poor guy.

Hopefully it's not too dark of a question, but how brutal does MK get during the primal moon? If he gets too violent with reader, does Wukong or Mac try stopping him or would they just let the natural pecking order happen?

I feel so bad for him, he's is gonna have a hell of a time acknowleding all the stuff he did during the primal moon week :/

Thank you so much, that means a lot to me! I’m glad people like my silly little things! (UPDATED to add a few extra characters!)

Thankfully for Y/N, MK isn’t too brutal- I don’t think they’ll come out with anything worse than a sprained wrist or ankle. The trauma will persist far beyond their injuries, however. When the last green moon of the week fades, he’s positively distraught.

Lining his hand curiously up to a slap mark on Y/N’s cheek to check it, tears brimming in his eyes when it lines up too perfectly to be a coincidence.

I don’t know whether he heartbrokenly distances himself or tries to make up for it with extreme smothering. The poor kid just wanted to spend what was supposed to “just another green moon” with one of his best friends.

And as for Macaque, though he’d really like to help Y/N… he just doesn’t have the ranking. MK is above him in the hierarchy, so he genuinely can’t do anything to upset or piss him off. This only that accomplishes is him getting smacked around right beside Y/N. All he can really do for them is apply herbal balm and bandages after the fact. If he hasn’t had a seal applied to his powers yet, Macaque might think about trying his shadow portals, but… it’s probably better not to risk having two angry monkeys on his tail, demanding to know where he’s hidden their beloved cub/rookie.

Sun Wukong is crazy delusional under the moon’s influence- to him, Y/N getting thrown and tosses all around is just “playfighting”, so he won’t interfere until after things get genuinely harmful. The moment he hears his little “cub” scream and start to cry, Old Sun is there in a second, bringing them into his arms and cooing softly. If they come to him begging for protection and use a “Bàba” to sweeten the deal, they’ll have his shelter for a number of hours, so it’s not impossible to get away from MK… just very hard.

And even after learning that something as severe as a broken wrist has occurred, Wukong coddles MK and forgives him on your behalf, writing the whole thing off as an accident. Not that you get any less smothering then him- you’re now stuck in bed with stiff bandages and surrounded by young mountain monkeys and sweet fruit. In a way, it saves you from any further rough play.

All three of them are dangerous in their own ways, of course. None are outright above “disciplining” you, with slaps or bites or shoves. There’s no (intentional) bone-shattering or flesh-tearing, but they make you afraid that there will be.

———————————————————————

After the Primal Moon ends, there’s a lot of patching-up to do afterwards. For example…

Pigsy has to come down from the constant self-drugging, taking more than a few hours to compose himself and make the rounds with his friends, calling them all up in short order. Once he’s gotten through everyone- Tang, Sandy, Mei, even her parents… then he spends a few minutes making sure he hasn’t gored any holes into his restaurant. Unlocks the windows and doors, but doesn’t flip the open sign.

He’s not up to deal with customers right now. All he wants is to check on his kids.

He’ll take MK and you out to eat today, he thinks. You’ve both earned it, after a week of isolation up in your shared room, under strict instructions to stay inside and come down for no one and nothing.

Red Son is always horribly humiliated when everything is said and done, a groaning and red-faced mess of shame. Another week of essentially devolving into a child, desperate for love and attention. Another, slow, grudging week of constant begging for skinship and words of praise. Needless to say, he’s pissed off and looking for an outlet, and beating on the numerous Bull Clones just doesn’t seem all too enticing… when he’s got a much squishier target who’ll actually squirm and yelp?

Sure, he’s not going to outright mangle you. No permanent burns. No shattered spine. And he’ll take pity on you eventually and stop with the torment. After a few months, he might even start to like you.

Let’s hope you get there mostly unscathed.

[the-owl-house-takes]

I absolutely hate the argument that Luz can be excused for her actions and people have no right to dislike her just because she’s neurodivergent. I struggled immensely in school both academically and socially in large to my own “neurodivergence”-can I just say I hate that word-but I was never so stupid as to think about bringing live animals and fireworks inside my school. The fact that Luz, the 14-year-old daughter of a veterinarian, saw a bunch of living, breathing animals and thought-‘yeah, I’m gonna use those as props! My book report is gonna be so cool! I surely can’t just use rubber snakes!’ Which probably why they were so damn aggressive! Because snakes only really bite and attack when they’re threatened, or stressed, or pissed off! Which really does not paint Luz as being a very caring or thoughtful person!

“But that’s the point! She needs to get better and she does!”-No she absolutely fucking does not. Instead of realizing that she can’t just run away and live in fantasy-land, the show again and again reaffirms that Luz can do no wrong, everybody else never should’ve felt angry about her reckless idiocy-because that’s what it is, idiocy-she gets to live out her little fantasy world and do whatever she wants. The way the show acts like the principal giving the summer camp pamphlet was some horrible evil thing, how could anyone do that? B I T CH LUZ IS FUCKING LUCKY that she weren’t expelled or arrested! She brought EXPLOSIVES WITH THE INTENT OF SETTING THEM OFF INSIDE A SCHOOL BUILDING. In an area of mass shoring fears and schools prohibiting anything can looks like or emulates(even if it is just a foam sword or something), Luz really should’ve just taken two seconds to think to at least leave the fireworks. Course at 14 I would think that a person who have the common sense for that to never be a thought.

And no, “neurodivergence” is not an excuse. It pains me when characters in media doing stupid shit and senseless(especially when it gets on the audience’s nerves) gets pinned on having autism or ADHD like it makes it okay, and that the character can’t be blamed or held accountable for it. Why do people hold those with these conditions to such low standards? When this happens, it feels like people are saying, “Yeah, this could’ve easily caused grievous bodily harm or death but they’ve got anxiety and autism, so we can’t be mad, they couldn’t possibly know better because they’re simply not on our level, they’re too stupid to understand!” Hell no. Stop giving excuses! The “I’m literally neurodivergent and a minor” attitude does not work in court!

And maybe if they understood this and actually challenged Luz on being very episodic on learning her lessons and that she did in fact run away to avoid consequences of her actions and reality won’t bend to her interests and she can’t treat everything like it’s a fanfiction instead of beating the dead horse with another dead horse about how Luz ““““helped”””” Belos when all she did was teach him one glyph and got used as bait by someone who she KNOWS tricked her. By that logic Lilith is just as responsible for Belos meeting the Collector as Luz is. Yeah she’s 14 but did it really have to stretch through the entirety of season 3?

Because season 3 is where I officially knew that Luz hadn’t learned a thing. The way the show frames the art teacher giving Luz the side eye like it’s wrong for her to distrust the kid who used the art supplies-that she probably paid out of pocket for-to infest the school with spiders and snakes and then would’ve blown it up if she hadn’t gotten sent to the principal’s office is so out of pocket. She has every right to view Luz with suspicion! People don’t tend to like others who make a mess in their areas with their stuff, shocker. I’ve already said a bit about the summer camp thing, but seriously, a summer camp that teaches teens about mortgages, how to manage a bank account and checkbook, do taxes, etc is literally the best thing Luz could’ve gotten out of that situation. She would’ve learned something many people complain wasn’t taught to them at a young age AND would’ve met people who she could easily befriended. Yeah, it’s boring and Luz probably would’ve checked out of the situation but it’s better than juvie! Also boring stuff is apart of life, it’s part of the way we can live the way we do because everything is easier said than done. Also with Camila, it’s a dumb retcon to have her not understand anime or Luz’s interests in Season 1 and 2 but a secret nerd who just got put down by the man in season 3. Like, Camila had to make a change with Luz, because 14 is not far from 18, and if Luz did do something stupid that ended up being a crime, she could very well be charged as an adult.

Then the whole ‘I just wanna be understood!’ Luz, honey, you’ve been surrounded by people who understand you and don’t get mad when you mess up, even if it’s spectacularly. Your girlfriend literally immediately told you she essentially wanted to spend the rest of her life by your side right after you got revealed as a liar which you promised you wouldn’t do anymore. Your best buds have always been on your side even when you’ve gone behind their backs. Your mom was sending you to that camp bc she had too, even though she originally believed it would expose you to kids with similar interests that could be befriended. And again, her hands were tied, because you were being reckless to the point of danger. But oh wait, it’s all okay now because you’re ‘understood’.

Not finding that happy balance where you can express yourself but not act like an idiot or endanger yourself and others, just some vague ‘understanding’ by an anonymous ‘them’. Do you mean everyone, all the time has to understand you the way Camila, Eda, King, Willow, Gus, Amity and Hunter do? Because that’s not how real life works.

And this isn’t a character hate-though I do hate the way Luz was finished-this is on the writers for not going through with the themes of Fantasy Vs. Reality they had going that could’ve taught Luz that balance and management; which in my personal opinion, would’ve been a better arc for a person with ADHD.

-