#Why am......... Here like this suffering...

[bonebabbles]

Toshiro Dungeon Meshi really said "I am an autistic man and I've suffered quietly my whole life, the way I'm supposed to, the way that's expected of me. The way you're supposed to, the way that I expect of you. It infuriates me that you don't. It envies me that you don't. I've never expressed this before because I don't know how and I snapped and all of my emotions came tumbling out and I said it in a way I don't actually mean, just like how you never mean it."

And then he said, "And then we fought. And you won, of course you did, and now we're talking openly because you're someone I CAN talk to. I always COULD talk to you. I just never DID. Of course you're taking this seriously. And you know I take it all seriously. Why are you like this? Why do I RECOIL every time you speak to me, even when you aren't doing anything wrong? How can a person even be like this?? Why do I sometimes wish that I could be like you?"

AND THEN HE SAID, "Wait. Please. I need you to know I do care about you. I can't tell you that directly because I have been taught my whole life that to love someone is to lessen their burden, to BE less of a burden, shrink yourself, don't have demands, don't have needs, don't eat more than the bare minimum to sustain yourself. I'm working on that now, because of my family, because of her, and because of you, but I still can't bring myself to settle the full weight of my being onto another person. Here is a magic bell that will let you safely become my burden. I will not lose you too."

The magic bell rolls around in Laios' bag and rings constantly because Toshiro didn't think to stuff it with a piece of paper before giving it to the most physically active fighter in the group who does all the runnining aroundening.

The one he JUST brawled for being imperceptive.

Blurting out that he would help him escape the Elf Cops took priority. He NEEDED Laios to know this so bad. I just know he was thinking about putting that bell in his hand as soon as he started sharing how he wished that he'd told Falin how much she meant to him sooner but was trying to think of the right moment. He was absolutely BESIEGED by the autistic swagger of the Touden siblings. How can you not start scratching the furniture thinking about it

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling a friend about a job I know for certain is terrible?

I have a degree in a creative field of work. Years ago I applied for a job in a city out of state, for a small business. I lowballed on the expected salary because I was desperate to get the job and get established before I moved. I figured once I got my apartment squared away I could look for a better, higher paying job.

Well, I got the job, and it turns out I actually really enjoyed working there. It was a pleasant work environment, I had cool coworkers, the boss was understanding and generous. So I stayed despite the low pay. I did get yearly raises, but even with those I was still below the average salary for my position.

That all changed earlier this year, when the old boss decided to sell the business due to health reasons. The new bosses made their fortune in a completely different industry, and knew nothing about our industry. They are in way over their heads.

They don’t fill out orders correctly. They take on orders that are physically impossible and expect us to do them anyway. They buy expensive new machines, don’t train us on them, and immediately start taking huge orders for them when we haven’t ironed on the kinks. We can’t focus on any complex orders because they’re constantly making us switch gears to personal projects, or forgotten orders, or different huge rush orders. The wife has a habit of rearranging our spaces and messing them all up, sometimes when we’re still in them trying to finish projects. They switched to a new shop management system that is counterintuitive and has too many moving parts and as a result mistakes have been piling up. Did I mention I was the only person in my particular department? Because I am.

It got to the point where I was having breakdowns every day. I have reached the point of total burnout. I finally decided enough was enough and turned in my two weeks’ notice plus however long it takes to train someone new.

Well, my “two weeks plus whatever it takes to train the newbie” has turned into six weeks and counting. They didn’t realize how cheap a date I was. They’ve interviewed people, but they’re all asking for twice the salary they’re offering. Which, good for them, get that scratch, but it means I’m languishing here, still suffering.

Now here is where I feel I MBTA. I have a Facebook friend, an acquaintance I met on another creative project, asking around for any local jobs in (creative field). He also lost his job recently, so he’s pretty hard up. I told him about the position opening up. I did not give him any details why I was leaving, or the pay, or the clusterfuck environment.

I feel like I’m leading him into a trap. But I’m so desperate to leave. I don’t want to leave without a replacement in place, because I like all my coworkers and without that one department the whole business will go belly up and they’ll all be out a job.

Am I leading him into a trap? AITA?

[damiansgoodgirll]

period comfort with damian priest?

i definitely needed this request

damian priest x reader

‼️mention of period cramps and blood

comfort

waking up you felt immediately something was off. when you felt wet between your thighs and some lower abdominal pain, you connected the dots, realising your period started a few days earlier.

you scoffed, not wanting to wake up and leave the comfort of your bed but at the same time you couldn’t handle the pain and the acknowledgment of being dirty down there. luckily you didn’t get damian’s sheets dirty but your pajama pants were a dark shade of red, your panties as well.

damian was currently in the gym, finishing his workout and when he realised that it was past 10 am and you still didn’t greet him with a good morning kiss, he knew something was off too. he thought about two options, either way you were still sleeping in or you were sick. he didn’t really think that you were sick as last night you were okay so he imagined you wanted to sleep a little more.

he took his time to take a shower and prepare some breakfast for you. twenty minutes later he got into your shared bedroom only to find you gone.

from the noise that came out of the bathroom, he quickly guessed where you were but it was only when he saw your face in distress that realised something happened. he slowly laid your breakfast on the nightstand “are you okay amor?” he gently asked when he met your eyes.

“that time of the month…” was the only thing you said before coming back to bed with a clean pajamas.

he knew how painful it was for you that time of the month so he always tried his best to make it a more enjoyable for you, at least, he would try to ease the pain and make you feel better.

“why don’t you eat some breakfast i made for you while i prepare your medicine and your hot water bottle? how’s that sounds?” he smiled at you.

“please…”

“okay princesa, here’s your pancakes and coffee, i’ll be right back” he kissed your cheeks before leaving the room only to return ten minutes later with painkillers and your fluffy hot water bottle “did you like your breakfast?” he smiled at you.

“i loved it…thank you” you genuinely smiled at him. he was the first boyfriend you had that had no problem being around you while you had your period. your ex always said you were “too moody” or “being too dramatic” so you always suffered in silence but with damian was different.

he’s been supporting since the beginning, always making sure you weren’t in too much pain. but sometimes it wasn’t just the pain making you feel uncomfortable. it was everything else. the greasy hair, the dry skin, your lack of sleep, mood swings, you going from being cold to being hot in just a few minutes. damian learned to deal with your pain as well. learning the difference from when you were just in pain or when your whole body, emotional and physical, was in pain.

“take some pills, they will ease the pain a little bit, you can keep resting if you want” he smiled, sitting on the bed next to you.

“thanks…” you accepted the pills and threw it down without fear “i’m not tired tho…maybe we can cuddle a little and watch a movie?”

“that sounds perfect, do you need me to open the window a little?” he asked, seeing the way you were violently kicking the blankets away.

“please do…i feel burning” you chuckled making him laugh.

it was actually a pretty cold day outside. damian usually didn’t care about the weather, even if it was cold, he could handle it. you, on other hand, couldn’t stand being in hot places and cold temperatures as well so seeing you so desperate for cold air made him smile a little “here you go…tell me if it gets to cold okay?”

“i will, i promise, now come to bed i wanna cuddle with you”

“okay okay i’m coming” he chuckled “here’s your hot water bottle, this should help with the cramps”

“it usually helps…thank you so much for everything dam, i appreciate it so much…i love you” you said snuggling into his chest while positioning your hot water bottle over your lower belly.

“you don’t have to thank me mi amor, i love taking care of you” he genuinely said making you smile.

you didn’t how you found someone like him but you did and you felt like you were the luckiest person in the whole entire universe.

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

hello hello I have a request if yoy wanna write rn ofc it might sound interesting but fairy reader x vox with some hade's and persephone vibes? you don't have to ofc but interesting concept!

Enchanted (Vox x faerie!reader)

Part two ->

Word count: 8739

Note! There’s more to this, I just thought it’d be overwhelming to have it all in one post. This is part one, let me know if yall wanna see more!

In the bustling streets of Hell, where chaos reigned supreme and every soul seemed destined for torment or redemption, Vox, the flamboyant and sharply dressed media overlord of the underworld, found himself unexpectedly intrigued by a newcomer. Amidst the swirling miasma of souls and demons, a faerie, radiant and ethereal, wandered with an air of curious wonder, my delicate wings shimmering softly against the stark backdrop of sin and suffering. At least, that’s how I liked to imagine it.

He had seen many strange creatures pass through Hell's gates, but none quite like me, apparently. Intrigued by my seeming innocence and purity in this bleak landscape, Vox approached with a grin that was both charming and predatory. "Well, well, what do we have here?" He asked, his voice cutting through the noise of the streets, drawing my attention.

“An annoyed individual who’s not afraid to bite y-” I paused for a moment, looking up at him. I furrowed my brow and frowned. “Why do you have a TV for a head?”

Vox chuckled at my bluntness, his grin widening with amusement. "Well, aren't you a peculiar little thing?" He leaned in slightly, his eyes flashing with a mix of curiosity and mockery. "It’s awfully rude to ask someone why they look a certain way, but… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to know considering having TV for a head is rather odd. It's my signature look, darling. I am the media mogul of this realm, so having a television for a face just seemed fitting, don't you think?"

He studied me with an appraising gaze, his eyes lingering on my soft wings. "And you are?" He asked, his tone laced with mild mocking curiosity.

“You first,” I said, raising a skeptical brow. “May I have your name?”

Vox let out a scoff, his mockery shifting to a hint of irritation, but his sly smile remained. "Alright, fair enough," he said, feigning nonchalance. "I am Vox, Overlord of Hell's media scene, and the mastermind behind VoxTek. Happy now, little faerie?"

“Very,” I said with a mischievous grin. A soft glowing string appeared, wrapped around my finger and tied to his. Magic. It faded after a moment, the pretty red hue nowhere to be seen.

Images flashed before my eyes of him, his life- both living and his time in Hell. Everything from snippets of his childhood to arguments to important meetings- all core memories and key events. There was nothing more than a general idea, just a little tip so I’d have something to work with. “Thanks for the name, Vincent,” I purred.

Vox felt a pang of annoyance as a glowing string appeared, tying them together. "Excuse me?" He tried to move away, but found himself physically unable, tethered to me by the ephemeral magic. "Hold up a sec! What the- what did you do to me?" He exclaimed in genuine surprise, realizing that I, the seemingly innocent and naive faerie, had somehow bound us together with a spell.

As his gaze fixated on me, his irritation turned into a mix of curiosity and intrigue. "You know my real name? And what was that string thing? Some kind of faerie magic?"

“I asked for your name, and you gave it. Names are special- they’re what allow a faerie to cast a spell on a person. I asked for yours, and you gave it. It’s mine now, and so, to some extent, you’re also mine.” I twirled my finger, making the string appear again, tauntingly. “Eyes are windows to the soul, but your name? It’s directly tethered to your very being. Congratulations, Vincent, you just got played.”

Vox's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief as he processed the revelation. I’d had played him, using something as simple as his own name against him. It was a clever trick, one that he had to admit he wasn't prepared for.

He clenched his fist, trying and failing to break the magic string. "Well, isn't that just brilliant," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I made a simple request for your name, and now I'm your...whatever you want to call it."

“Boy toy?” I asked, raising a brow with a smug grin.

He looked at me with a mix of irritation and reluctant respect. "Alright, what's your game here, princess?"

“Nothing much…” I said, tugging him closer. “To be honest, I haven’t decided. This realm is just as interesting as I thought it’d be- a nice little change from before…”

He gave me a look, as if to say ‘what the fuck’, but not being able to put it into words- too busy trying to process everything else I’d just implied so casually.

“So, I basically own your soul now, don’t I?” I asked, tilting my head at him. “Forgive me, but I’m not well practiced in how souls work for you demons- I do know they’re important down here, though. It’d be rather embarrassing if word got out that a powerful overlord such as yourself belongs to a pretty little faerie like me.”

The thought of his reputation being tarnished by belonging to a faerie infuriated him, but he couldn't deny the truth in my words. He had willingly given his name, thereby giving me power over him. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

"Yes, alright, you basically have some kind of ownership over me now," he grumbled, his pride wounded. "And if word gets out that I'm a faerie's plaything, it will be a massive blow to my reputation. So, what do you plan to do with this power you have over me then, princess?"

“Like I said before, I don’t really know yet,” I said with a shrug. I started walking down the street, making the string invisible again so as to not draw too much attention. I didn’t need other sinners noticing and putting his reputation at risk already. I still tugged him along with it, though. “I think I’d like for you to show me around. I’d like to know Hell a little better… oh, and try to be truthful, would you? Faeries don’t take kindly to liars.”

"Oh, fantastic," Vox muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. He followed me, the invisible string tugging him along like a reluctant puppy on a leash. "Show you around, sure. Whatever. But don't expect a tour guide performance worthy of a five-star review."

He mentally cursed to himself, hating the fact that he was now basically at a faerie's mercy. And what did I mean by truthful? He always lied. Always. But...there was a hint of uneasiness in his expression.

“You’re a businessman, aren’t you?” I asked, looking over my shoulder and eyeing him up and down. “I’m sure you can afford to add some spice and energy to it- and if anyone asks why I get special treatment, say it’s an attempt to get more faeries to visit. We’d be a valuable asset to all the denizens here, and I’m sure it’d make sense with your… track record.”

"Hmm," Vox considered my words for a moment, the gears in his head turning. I had a point. Appealing to the faeries was a smart move, and it would look good for his reputation. He could use it to his advantage.

"Alright," he said after a moment, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "I can spin that. And yes, I'm a businessman, so adding a little flare will be child's play. Shall we begin our tour then, princess?"

“Be my guest,” I said, gesturing for him to take the lead.

Vox chuckled and nodded. "Alright then, let's head down this way." He took the lead, striding confidently down the bustling streets of Hell. I took note of the glowing ports in the back of his head and smiled to myself.

"Welcome to Pentagram City, the city of sinners, the cesspool of the damned," he announced dramatically, looking around. "Home to all sorts of sinners, both famous and infamous- mostly the latter."

“I assume you fall into the latter group as well?” I asked teasingly.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "See over there?" He pointed to a tall building in the distance. "That's my corporate headquarters, VoxTek."

“Oh, that explains why it’s so pretty,” I said, with a bright smile. I looked at the glowing shades of blue, humming softly as I followed behind him. “It’s like you.”

Vox raised an eyebrow at my compliment, a hint of surprise on his face. He was used to praise, but my casual nature intrigued him. "Like me?" he repeated, a hint of mockery in his voice. Apparently he didn’t know how to take a goddamned compliment. "Are you saying I'm 'pretty', now?"

“What? Am I not allowed to compliment a person?” I asked, confused. I tilted my head at him inquisitively, genuinely curious. “You’re a well respected and successful businessman, you’re CEO of your very own company, you literally own that building. You’re known for your charismatic and charming attitude, your confidence, and it’s part of why you’re so popular. Is it really unbelievable that I’d notice these things and point them out?”

Vox was taken aback by my straightforwardness. my compliments sounded genuine, and he wasn't used to such sincere praise. He paused for a moment, studying me, trying to figure me out.

"Well, I suppose you have a point," he admitted begrudgingly. "I am all those things you mentioned. But I'm not used to being complimented in such a...sincere way I suppose. Usually, people praise me because they want something."

“I’m not quite sure what I want,” I said, walking past him to continue the tour. “Oh, but for the record? Faeries can’t lie. I can be deceitful, sure, but I’ll never lie to you outright. Hopefully that eases some worries you may have…”

Vox watched me walk past him with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. The fact that I had to specify that I wouldn't lie to him was a bit unnerving, but my words still held a ring of truth.

He followed me, trying to keep up his confident demeanor but feeling a bit off-balance. "So, you can't lie, huh? That's...interesting."

He paused for a moment, a sly smile appearing on his face. "But you said you can be deceptive, right? Maybe we'll have to test those boundaries sometime."

“Mm,” I said, a little distracted. I paused- causing him to bump into me, though I didn’t notice nor mind much- and looked at a different building. Glass, plants everywhere, in various shades of pink purple and blue, a sign with three Vees perched at the top. It was luxurious and pretty. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing to it. The middle V was bigger and in blue. “Do you own that one too?”

Vox halted behind me and followed my gaze to the building I had pointed out. "Ah, that would be the place where my associates stay," he replied. "Valentino and Velvette. That's their building, the Vee's headquarters I guess you could call it. A bit extravagant for my tastes, but oh well.”

I snorted at that last part, not believing it at all. “Don’t you live there too, then?” I asked, looking up at him. “Can you bring me there? I wanna see it up close. It looks so nice!”

Vox couldn't help but chuckle at my eagerness to see the building. "Eager, aren't we?" he said, amused. "But yeah, technically I do live there, though I have my own floor."

He turned to start heading towards the building, with me in tow. "Come on then, princess. I suppose a closer look won't hurt."

I followed along, right at his heels, a beaming smile on my face. “Thank you!” I said lightly- I paused for a moment, rethinking- almost surprised with myself. Then I nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Thank you,” I said, softer.

Vox looked back at me, a hint of surprise in his eyes. He wasn't used to people genuinely thanking him so sincerely. It was...kind of nice. He returned my smile faintly, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

"No problem," he replied, his tone a bit softer than usual. "Just try not to break anything while we're in there."

“I wouldn’t dare,” I said seriously. “That’d be awfully poor etiquette, wouldn’t it? Tell me, how much do you know about faeries?”

Vox chuckled at my comment, appreciating my awareness of etiquette. Not many demons cared- most just blew up walls as they pleased. He walked alongside me, considering my question.

"Well, let's see," he began. "I know that faeries are creatures from a different realm, often associated with nature, magic, and trickery. They're known for their enchanting beauty and unpredictable nature. What more is there to know?"

“We value being truthful and polite,” I said, matter of fact, purposefully ignoring the ‘enchanting beauty’ part he’d mentioned. I didn’t think it was relevant, nor was it up for discussion. “And in being fair, but that’s… I feel like that one’s rather obvious.”

"Ah, the importance of honesty and politeness, how quaint," Vox said with a hint of mockery. "But fair? You mean being fair in the sense of giving something of equal value in return, is that it?"

“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “That’s why I won’t be abusing my power over you. You gave me your name, you put yourself in this situation, sure, but I was deceitful. Because of that, it’s a basic requirement that I not force you to do anything absurd or serious. Just small little favors is all I ask of you.”

Vox raised an eyebrow at my response. "Small little favors, huh?" he echoed. "That doesn't sound so bad. But forgive me if I have a hard time trusting the word of a fae."

He led me into the lobby of the building, his gaze flicking around at the luxurious surroundings. "And what kind of 'small little favors' do you have in mind?"

“Well, you make a fairly good tour guide,” I noted, looking around curiously. I paused for a moment, once we were in a quieter space, and turned to him. “I’m not sure what I’ll be doing- but I would like to know what you’ll be using your favor for.”

Vox smirked at my compliment, enjoying the boost to his ego. "A good tour guide, eh? Why thank you, princess," he replied with that usual air of arrogance.

He leaned back against the wall, considering my question. "Hm, what will I be using my favor for, you ask. That's a good question."

He looked at me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'll tell you what. I'll save my favor for when I need it."

“Yes but- goodness, do you even know why I owe you a favor?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. I put my hands on my hips, expectant. “I hope you know that the reason I owe you determines what kind of favor you can ask for.”

Vox chuckled at my slightly annoyed expression. "Of course I know why you owe me a favor," he replied, a smirk on his face. "You used your power over me, and I gave you my name. According to your principles, that means you owe me a favor, right?"

“No, no, no!” I muttered, exasperated. “You gave me your name, I have a certain amount of power over you. You gave me your name, and in return I keep you safe so long as you do me some favors. I don’t owe you anything else for that.” I made the red string appear again. “This,” I said, pointing to it. “Means it’s even, we’re even, that little interaction is sorted out.”

He leaned a little closer, his gaze meeting mine. "But I'm curious, what kind of favor would depend on the reason? Do tell."

I paused for a moment and sighed. “I owe you a favor because you’re bringing me here,” I said, gesturing to the building. “It’s something I asked of you but didn’t have the power to force you to do with your name alone. You chose to oblige, and then I thanked you. A thank you means I owe you for it, that’s why saying ‘thank you’ is typically taboo when it comes to faeries.” I looked back up at him, somewhat annoyed. “Now I owe you a favor equal to that. I’d say bringing me here was a medium show of kindness, so I owe you a medium sized favor. Fair is fair.”

Vox raised an eyebrow as he listened to my explanation, a bit taken aback by the intricacy of my principles. "You have a very strict set of rules, don't you?" he muttered, his tone a mix of amusement and annoyance.

He considered my reasoning for a moment, his expression one of mild irritation. "So you're telling me," he began, his annoyance very clearly creeping into his tone, "that saying 'thank you' to you is like a binding contract?"

“It’s faerie etiquette,” I muttered, heat rising to my cheeks as I looked away. “I don’t make the rules, okay?” I crossed my arms, then uncrossed them and tried to adjusted my hair to hide my pointed ears- knowing they’d be bright red.

Vox couldn't help but find my reaction amusing. The way I stammered and flushed pink was almost endearing. He smirked, a glint in his eyes.

"Aw, is the little fae embarrassed?" he teased, a hint of mocking in his voice. "All flustered because you accidentally thanked me, and now you owe me a favor? How adorable."

“Stop that,” I mumbled, now trying to hide my face instead. My ears twitched and moved back against my head. I muttered something incoherently. “Have you decided what it’ll be, or not?”

Vox couldn't help but chuckle at my flustered state, enjoying how easy it was to rattle me. He hummed in thought for a moment, watching my attempt to hide my rosy cheeks under my hands, and the way my ears twitched. It was far too amusing.

"No, I haven't decided yet," he replied, enjoying the power he held over me in this situation. "And do you know why I haven't decided?"

“Because you hate me,” I said, under my breath.

Vox chuckled at my muttered reply. "Oh, I wouldn't say I hate you, princess," he said, his tone mocking yet playful. "But you are a pain in the ass, that's for sure. I'm just enjoying watching you squirm, all flustered and embarrassed."

“Oh fuck off,” I said, nudging him lightly. I walked ahead of him, trying to explore more of the tower and get my mind off things.

I was fuming, desperately trying to get ahold of myself. These weren’t just rules I could break, I didn’t get a say in them at all. I was being made fun of for abiding by them despite the fact I didn’t have a choice in the matter- I was physically incapable of going against them! And he was upset at me for it- at least, it felt like it.

Vox chuckled as I walked ahead of him, enjoying our little banter. That’s what he thought of it as, nothing more. Not that I knew at the time. He followed along beside me, a smirk on his face.

"Feisty, aren't we?" he commented, watching me explore the tower with curiosity. "Admit it, you're enjoying this little game we're playing."

“It’s not a game! I’m following the rules- and being rather nice, by explaining it all, mind you!” I huffed and walked quickly, trying to lose him. Unfortunately for me, he was tall and had long legs.

Vox followed after me, his strides effortlessly matching my quick pace. He chuckled again, finding my frustrated demeanor adorable.

"You're so serious, princess," he teased. "It's like you can't have fun unless everything is orderly and polite."

“It’s just basic etiquette!” I said, unintentionally raising my voice. I glared at him, then continued walking- almost stomping- through the labyrinth of hallways. “Why don’t you get that? I’m being normal, you’re the asshole who can’t be honest or graceful or- or anything else, really!”

Vox found my outburst amusing, his smirk widening into a full-blown grin. He followed along, not missing a single step as I stormed down the halls.

"Graceful? Honest?" he repeated, his tone dripping with mock surprise. "Who gave you the right to judge me, princess? You're the one who can't even utter a simple thanks without owing someone a favor."

“I’m not the one trapped in a fiery cesspool of failure for all of eternity like you,” I spat, not even looking at him anymore. “My biggest accomplishment will be something better than ‘renowned businessman among humanity’s worst’. Look at yourself! You pride yourself on being top of your stupid little hierarchy down here, but really you’re just boasting about being the worst of the worst- another embarrassment, just slightly less embarrassing than the people around you!”

Vox's smile faded at my harsh words. Though he tried to maintain his cool, my comment clearly hit a nerve. The words stung, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of irritation.

"Excuse me?" he said, his tone sharp. "Watch what you say. You have no idea what it takes to survive and succeed in this place. I've done what I have to do to get to where I am. And it's not a 'little hierarchy'. It's a damn kingdom.”

“Ha!” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “As if anyone down here would know what a real kingdom looks like, or what it’d take to rule.”

“You know nothing about honesty or hard work, you got where you are based on a foundation of lies and shortcuts! Don’t you dare try to talk to me about survival when you’ve had it easy your whole life, Vincent,” I snapped. “Not everyone was born in a nice little mansion on the hill like you, Mr. Sterling. Some of us had to actually work and make sacrifices to even get by- you didn’t. You had it all right in front of you, the opportunity to live a good life, and you chose to throw it away! You chose to lie and deceive people, using religion as a front to get what you wanted, you chose to kill people when they questioned your authority, and you chose to run away when faced with the consequences of your actions! You landed yourself down here in hell with a stupid TV for a face, so don’t you even start.”

Vox's jaw clenched as I continued my verbal assault. He tried to keep his cool, but my words stung, hitting a little too close to home.

"How dare you," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't know anything about me or the choices I've made. You sit there on your high horse, acting like some saint, when you're just as manipulative as the rest of us. You use your words and your twisted rules to play mind games with people. And you have the nerve to talk about honesty and work ethic. You're no better than me."

“I literally can’t fucking lie, Vincent!” I yelled, turning on my heel, getting in his face. “You hear me? I can’t fucking lie! I can use word play to spin the truth, but I can’t fucking lie! I live among other faeries- a little wordplay doesn’t get you anywhere! There’s no deceit between faeries, because we’re all too fucking wary of one another to even give it a shot. I learned magic on my own, I became heir to the Autumn Court on my own fucking merit. I built myself from the ground up and all you’ve ever done is dig your own fucking grave. I don’t* want to hear it.”

Vox stared back at me, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief. He clenched his fists, struggling to find a response to my words.

"You think you're so much better than me?" he growled. "You think that just because you can't lie, that makes you some sort of saint? News flash, princess- not being able to lie doesn't mean you're incapable of deception."

“You- You’re not even listening are you?”

He took a step closer, towering over me. "Shut up. Don't think for a minute that I didn't have to struggle to get where I am."

“Fuck you,” I muttered, pushing him harshly. I turned away from him and disappeared- literally. I wasn’t in front of him, I wasn’t in the same hallway or floor as him anymore. I was gone.

Vox stumbled back slightly as I pushed him, his eyes widening in surprise. Before he could even register what happened, I was gone.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where I had been standing just a moment before. Anger and confusion swirled in his mind.

"Where the hell did she go...?" he muttered, looking around the hallway.

He grumbled under his breath, frustrated at my sudden disappearance. Just when he thought he had me figured out, I found a way to surprise him.

"Of course she has to have some kind of teleporting power," he muttered to himself. "Just my luck."

He looked around the hallway one more time, hoping to spot any sign of me, but I seemed to have vanished completely.

I looked around, and damn near yelled in frustration when I realized I’d teleported to his bedroom. I was still tied to him, I couldn’t go far, so my magic had kept me in the tower, just a few floors up higher than before. And in his room.

“Fucking fantastic!” I muttered, throwing my hands up.

I would’ve destroyed something if I could. However, it was poor etiquette and as a faerie, I was literally incapable of breaking the rules. So, instead, I flopped onto his bed and angrily hugged one of his pillows, with no other way to vent my frustration.

Some time later, Vox made his way to his bedroom, exhausted and still fuming from our earlier argument. He was looking forward to collapsing onto his bed and trying to forget the whole thing.

Imagine his surprise when he opened the door and saw me sprawled out on his bed, clutching one of his pillows and seething with anger.

Vox paused in the doorway, watching me for a moment. He hadn't expected me to be here.

I had my back to the door, I hadn’t seen him come in. I wasn’t exactly mad at him anymore, I was more so mad at myself.

Vox leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he observed me from the doorway. He could sense my frustration and anger, but also a hint of self-directed rage.

After a moment of watching me, he cleared his throat, announcing his presence. "Are you planning on hogging my bed, princess?" he said in a light, teasing tone. He was trying to- making an effort to keep it casual.

I made a small squeak of surprise, jumping up, startled. I looked at him, then looked away. I scooted over, making space for him. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Vox smirked as I scooted over, making space for him. He could see the guilt in my eyes, and my muttered apology only made him smirk more.

He sauntered over to the bed and sat down beside me, his weight making the mattress dip slightly. He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze flicking towards me once more.

"You know, you could have just stayed down on the lower floor," he commented, his tone lighthearted but with a hint of amusement. "Didn't have to teleport all the way up here."

“I didn’t mean to,” I said quietly. My ears twitched, then went back to how they were when he walked in- drooping slightly. “I meant to leave but- magic. I’m tied to you so it brought me here. I don’t know enough about Hell or even this tower to navigate it by myself. I’d probably die within moments if I stepped out the door without you.”

Vox watched as my ears drooped, a hint of guilt creeping into his chest. It was odd to see me so... Defeated. He liked it better when I was feisty.

"Ah, so you're stuck with me, are you?" he said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Guess that means you can't escape my charming presence, princess."

I sighed, hugging the pillow tighter. “I’m sorry,” I said, softer. My voice sounded strained, as if I was trying not to cry. “I’m sorry about earlier, I shouldn’t have yelled. You didn’t deserve that. Any of it. I’m sorry.”

Vox's smirk slowly faded as he heard my strained voice. He hadn't expected me to apologize, especially not so sincerely.

He looked at me, my face half-hidden in the pillow, and he felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He'd expected me to continue arguing, not this... This vulnerable side of me.

"Hey," he said, his tone softer than before. "Look at me."

“Mmm,” I whined softly, burying my head against the pillow. I hated eye contact. Especially at times like this.

He chuckled lightly at my response, finding it oddly endearing.

"Oh, come on, princess," he said, reaching over and gently tugging on my shoulder. "Look at me. I can't see your face if you're hiding behind that pillow."

I made another noise, then looked up at him, my face being the pinnacle of worry, nervousness, guilt, and discomfort. “Vox,” I whined, the first time I’d used his Hell name rather than his old one.

Vox watched as I looked up at him, my face a mix of emotions. He couldn't help but be slightly taken aback when I used his Hell name, his real name. But he didn't show it.

He raised an eyebrow at me, his expression still soft. "Ah, finally using my real name, are you?" he teased. "I must be growing on you."

“No! Vincent is your old name, but- and-I just- mmph…” I groaned and tried to bury my head in the pillow again. “I was trying to be polite. Or nice or whatever.”

Vox chuckled softly as I tried to bury my head in the pillow once more, finding my struggle adorable.

"Ah-ah-ah," he chided, gently tugging on my shoulder again. "No hiding. Look at me. And I prefer Vox. It fits me better. Vincent is so..." he trailed off, waving his hand dismissively. "Boring."

“I don’t think it’s boring,” I said with a pout. “I think it’s cute. Vincent Sterling. Do you have a last name anymore? Or is just Vox?”

Vox blinked, a bit caught off guard by my comment. Cute. No one had ever called him cute before. Especially not when he was called Vincent.

He chuckled softly, his smirk returning. "I don't have a last name anymore. Just Vox. It's less cumbersome than 'Vox Sterling' anyway."

He paused, studying my pouting face. "You called me cute," he said, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“It’s just the truth,” I said quietly. “How many times do I have to tell you? Faeries can’t lie. I’m physically incapable of saying anything untrue.”

Vox chuckled, his smirk widening into a small smile. He couldn't help but find my honesty endearing, even if it had been a pain in his ass earlier.

"So I'm cute, eh?" he repeated, his tone playful. "That's a first, princess. Most people down here call me a lot of things, but cute is not one of them."

“What, do they have cooler words describe an attractive person?” I asked, raising a brow. “Would you prefer hot, sexy, or handsome? I thought the words cute and pretty summed it up fairly well. I think it’s more endearing.”

Vox's smirk turned into a devious grin as I listed off the different words I could use to describe him. He couldn't deny that he liked the sound of them, especially coming from me.

"Ah, so you think I'm attractive, do you?" he said, his tone playful yet laced with a hint of arrogance. "I'll take charming, attractive, and sexy. Cute and pretty are more... Endearing, like you said. They suit you more, princess."

“N-” I was about to protest but stopped short. I bit my lip and muttered something under my breath. I couldn’t say ‘no’ because that’d be a lie.

Vox watched me bite my lip and mutter under my breath, his smirk growing wider as he realized what I was trying to do. He leaned in a bit closer to me.

"What was that, princess?" he asked, his tone still playful. "You were going to protest, weren't you? Maybe deny that you find me attractive?"

“No! I was going to say that the words cute and pretty aren’t good descriptions for me,” I said honestly, looking back at him quickly. “But apparently that’s a lie. So I can’t.”

Vox let out a laugh, amused by my frustration. I couldn't lie, and damn, it was entertaining to watch me struggle.

"Ah, so you don't think you're cute or pretty, huh?" he said, still grinning. "Seems like your own magic is disagreeing with you there, princess."

“Unfortunately,” I mumbled, fidgeting a little bit. “I think… interesting is the word I would use to describe myself. Nothing too definite, you know? Plenty of room for change.”

Vox studied me for a moment, his gaze flickering over my fidgeting form. I seemed uncomfortable with the idea of being either cute or pretty. He couldn’t help but find it adorable.

"Interesting, huh?" he repeated, his tone still playful. "Nothing definite. Just... Changeable. I suppose that works. You're definitely a unique one, princess.”

“Why do you even call me that?” I asked, searching his expression for the answer. “Do you have a set pet name for everyone you talk to? You seemed to decide on mine pretty quickly.”

Vox chuckled, his expression a mix of amusement and arrogance. He leaned back against the headboard, one knee bent, his arm resting casually on it.

"It just suits you," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "You're so uptight, so serious. But there's something... Innocent. Almost naive, about you. That makes me want to call you princess. It fits you."

“I’m not naive,” I said with a huff. Then I paused and grinned. “See? Not a lie! The magic agrees with me.”

Vox smirked at my declaration, his eyes glinting in amusement. He couldn't help but find my stubbornness and the way I seemed to constantly prove a point endearing.

"Oh, really?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "You sure you're not naïve, princess? Because you certainly seem to have a lot of faith in that magic of yours."

“I am physically incapable of telling a lie,” I said flatly.

"So you've said," Vox replied, chuckling. "Over and over again."

He shifted closer to me on the bed, leaning in slightly. A teasing smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"But just because you can't lie, princess, doesn't automatically make you right."

“Yes it does,” I said, looking back up at him again. I squinted. “You just don’t like to be wrong.”

Vox chuckled again, his smirk growing into a cheeky grin. He loved my stubborn determination, even when it was directed at him.

"Oh, I'm not the one who doesn't like to be wrong, princess," he retorted. "That would be you. I'm perfectly fine being wrong every now and again, especially when I get to see you get all flustered and angry."

“I’m not flustered!” I said quickly- too quickly. To my annoyance, heat flooded my face again. Now I was flustered. “And I’m not angry! I’m just mildly annoyed with your inability to grasp the concept of honesty simply because you can’t go five seconds without lying.”

Vox chuckled, his smirk widening as he noticed the heat rising to my face. He loved how easily I got flustered, especially when I tried to deny it.

"Mildly annoyed, huh?" He repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Is that why you're looking so flustered right now, princess? That red blush on your cheeks says otherwise."

“Oh shush,” I said, looking away. I snapped my fingers and the lights in the room went out. Unfortunately for me, he had a TV for a face, which meant it glowed and vaguely lit up the room. At least, whatever was closest to him.

Vox chuckled at my attempt to hide my flustered state by dimming the lights. Unfortunately for me, it hadn't worked in the slightest.

"Nice try, princess," he taunted in the darkness. "But your little trick didn't work. You're still blushing." He shifted a bit closer to me, the soft glow from his screen illuminating his face.

My breath hitched and I sort of froze for a moment. “You’re close,” I mumbled, my eyes going wide. My pupils dilated and I leaned in closer to him, like a moth to flame. I had a small smile on my face- absolutely ensnared by the light of his screen.

Vox smirked as he noticed it all, even the way my eyes widened slightly. He couldn't deny that my reaction amused him, and fueled his playful nature.

As I leaned in closer, captivated by the light of his screen, he chuckled softly and leaned in even closer until we were almost face to face.

"That's right, princess," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "I'm right here, glowing just for you."

“Glowing,” I repeated softly, the tension leaving my body. I moved closer to him, almost in his lap, just staring. I felt a small itch in my back and unfurled my wings without thinking- not really caring, either, despite how fragile they could be. He had me mesmerized.

Vox chuckled softly as I moved closer. The sight of me unfurling my wings, delicate and fragile, didn't escape his notice. But my entranced expression, as if enchanted by his screen, made him feel a strange sense of power. He hadn’t had any power since he’d first given me his name and now… well, he wanted to use this to his advantage.

He raised a sharp-clawed hand, gently stroking along the edge of my wing. "Careful, princess," he murmured, his tone still playful but softer than before. "Those wings are delicate, aren't they?"

“Mhmm,” I mumbled, with a slight nod. A shiver went down my spine but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I hummed lightly as I stared at him. “You’re pretty.”

Vox chuckled again, my honest words and entranced expression only boosting his confidence. He continued to gently stroke my wing, feeling another shiver run through me.

"And you're adorable, princess," he teased, his smirk widening. "All flustered and mesmerized by my screen. It's quite endearing, really."

“I wanna touch it,” I said, my gaze flicking to actually meet his eyes this time. “Please let me touch it.”

Vox raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by my request. But he had to admit, the thought of me touching his face was intriguing.

"My screen? You want to touch it, princess?" he asked, amusement and curiosity in his tone. "Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're just looking for excuses to touch me."

“Mph,” I said, my expression falling for a moment. I rolled my eyes and just leaned closer instead, still not touching him. We were hardly an inch apart at this point.

Vox chuckled softly as I leaned even closer, our faces almost touching. He could feeling my soft breath against his screen as I rolled my eyes at him. He found my irritation and stubbornness to be oddly… cute.

"What's the matter, princess?" he taunted. "No witty retort this time? Just going to try and press yourself against me instead?"

“Please,” I said again, softly, breathlessly.

Vox's smirk widened as he heard my quiet plea. There was something about me being this close to him, practically begging to touch his screen, that made his ego soar.

"Please, what, princess?" he asked, his voice low and smooth. He continued to stroke my wing, enjoying my reactions. "Use your words."

“Mmn..” I made a low humming sound as he touched me, relaxing all over again in an instant. “Please let me touch your screen.”

"Touch my screen, huh?" Vox repeated, his smirk holding strong. He chuckled softly, his gaze still locked on my face, enjoying the effect his touch had on me. He knew he had me completely entranced.

"And what makes you think I'll let you touch it, princess? What's in it for me?"

“Vox,” I whined softly, as he moved away slightly. I couldn’t stay upset at him while he was touching my wings like that, though. I thought for a moment, then smiled. “A kiss?”

Vox chuckled again at my soft whine, his smirk softening at my innocent offer. A kiss, huh? Not what he was expecting, but he couldn't deny that the idea intrigued him.

"A kiss, princess?" he repeated, still stroking my wing. "You think offering to kiss me will convince me to let you touch my screen?"

“Mhm,” I said, finally moving to sit in his lap. I was still looking up at him with wide eyes. “You called me cute and pretty.”

Vox chuckled again as I moved closer, touching him, without a care in the world. Just me, him, and my utterly mesmerized gaze fixed on him. He placed his hands on my hips, steadying me. My sudden boldness caught him a bit off guard, but he was entertained by my eagerness.

"So you're trying to use my compliments against me, huh, princess?" he teased. "Using flattery to get what you want from me? How devious, for a faerie like you."

“Not really,” I mumbled lightly. “If you were talking to another, you’d be skinned alive and draped across their parlor floor like a new rug.” The words slipped out before I could stop myself, too caught up in the enchanting glow of his screen.

Vox's smirk widened at my unexpected comment, the image it painted in his mind making him chuckle once again. "Now, now, princess," he said, his tone only slightly admonishing. "That's a bit gruesome, even for me. But I appreciate the sentiment."

He continued to hold me, enjoying the way I looked at him with my wide-eyed gaze, my face flushed and my wings gently draped behind me. He couldn't help but taunt me a bit.

"You seem pretty entranced by my screen, princess. What is it about its glow that you find so captivating?"

“Moth,” I said softly, fluttering my wings for emphasis. I was a moth faerie, we liked bright lights and blue light especially. Also just shiny things in general.

Vox chuckled once again, understanding now why I seemed so fixated on the glow of his screen. It was my faerie nature calling out to him. Seemed like a rather odd weakness to have- easily exploitable. It seemed like a miracle to him, that I hadn’t been killed already.

"Ah, that explains it, huh? You're a little moth drawn to the glow of my screen. How fitting, for a princess like you." He continued to hold me, his grip on my hips tightening ever so slightly as he teased me. “So naive..”

“Please let me touch it,” I said again, quietly.

Vox raised an eyebrow at my continued begging, amused by my eagerness and insistence. He chuckled once more, his smirk growing wider.

"You're quite determined, aren't you, princess?" he teased. "You really want to touch my screen, huh?"He paused, pretending to consider my request for a moment, before speaking in a playful tone. "Alright, princess. Go ahead."

I smiled and let out an excited squeak, then kissed him. As apart of the deal. Though I won’t deny, it was nice.

Vox chuckled softly as I kissed him- thinking for a moment it was only out of pure excitement- enjoying the taste of my lips on his own. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him in his lap as the kiss lasted for a few moments.

Electric would be a good way to describe it. Tiny little shocks flitted through me as he wrapped his tongue around mine.

When I finally broke away, he let out a low, pleased hum. "You keep surprising me, princess," he murmured, still holding me close to him. "And making deals that seem to benefit me more than you."

“Mmm,” I mumbled, my gaze still fixated on the glow. I smiled and pushed him down against the mattress within seconds, laying down ontop of him, nuzzling my face against his screen with a content hum.

Vox chuckled, caught off guard by my boldness once again. I was lying directly on top of his chest, as if he were my very own mattress. Me nuzzling my face against his screen sent a shiver through him, both from my delicate touch and the unexpected position we were in.

"You're full of surprises today," he teased, his arms still holding me loosely around my waist. "First, the kiss. Now, pinning me down and nuzzling up on me."

“I’m never letting go,” I purred, not moving in the slightest. I made a small buzzing sound- a moths equivalent to a purr- and fluttered my wings happily as I continued to nuzzle against him.

Vox chuckled again, the sound rumbling through his screen. my buzzing, purring sound and happy wing flutters were adorably cute, even for him. He watched the way my ears twitched, a fond smile on his face. Maybe he was as enchanted by me as I was by him. He had to admit, my unabashed affection was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.

"Is that so, princess?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You're never letting go, huh? Gonna keep nuzzling up on me like this forever?"

“Yep!” I said with a grin. I shifted a little, getting comfortable, then paused. “Are you cold?” I asked softly, actually looking him in the eyes this time. “Do you need to charge?”

Vox raised an eyebrow at my question. Despite my apparent obsession with his screen, I still seemed to care about his well-being. He thought… well, he thought that he’d had me completely mesmerized, wrapped around his finger- but this proved otherwise. He didn’t know that I could just tear away my focus from the light at any moment, he thought he’d had me hopelessly entranced. It was awkward for him to realize, but he quickly gathered himself.

"Cold?" he repeated with a smirk. "No, princess, I don't feel cold. But I do need to charge from time to time. Why do you ask?"

“Mm,” I said, getting up for a moment. I rummaged around his room for a moment before finding the plugs that went into the back of his head. I returned to the bed with them and lifted his head, plugging him in without a word. “There. Now we can continue.”

Vox watched me with curiosity as I went about finding the plugs and then carefully lifting his head to plug them into the sockets with ease. He shivered at the sensation of me touching him so gently, with tender care. He wasn’t used to it- he wasn’t even used to others plugging him in. He usually did it himself.

"Thank you, princess," he said with a nervous smile, as I finished plugging him in. He shifted into a more comfortable position, his head still resting against the pillows. "Now, where were we?"

“Like this,” I said, getting back into position and nuzzling my face against his again. “You owe me a favor now,” I noted with a smile.

Vox chuckled and smiled at my comment, enjoying the feeling of me nuzzling against his screen again. My happy buzzing practically reverberated through him. He found my carefree nature and playful attitude strangely satisfying. It was a weakness he usually hated but here… somehow he couldn’t bring himself to.

"Oh, do I, princess?" he teased, pretending to be offended. "And what kind of favor do I owe you, exactly?"

“Undecided,” I said softly. “It’s a small one, though.”

Vox chuckled again at my vague statement. A small favor, huh? He wondered what kind of insignificant but amusing thing I might ask for.

"A small favor," he repeated, still holding me close to him. "You're really making me curious here, princess. What kind of insignificant little task are you gonna make me do for you?"

“Mmm,” I mumbled, avoiding the question.

As I began making the soft buzzing sound and nuzzling against him again, Vox found himself relaxing. The feeling of me against him, my warm body and gentle touches, was surprisingly soothing.

As I began to drift off to sleep, nodding off, he chuckled softly, feeling my body grow heavy against him. "Looks like the princess is tired," he teased, his voice low. He ran a clawed hand through my hair, gently stroking it as I slept.

Despite himself, Vox found comfort in my presence. my weight against him, my wings slowly rising and falling with my breathing, was strangely soothing. He continued to run his clawed hand through my hair, careful not to wake me. Why did doing that feel so good? It was like a stress reliever. Almost natural.

For the rest of the night, he let me sleep on top of him, my face resting against his screen, my wings spreading out to cover us both like a blanket. He found himself listening to my soft breathing, his smirk softening into a more relaxed expression.

As the hours passed and the night slowly turned into morning, Vox continued to hold me. He wasn’t used to this level of closeness with anyone, much less a faerie, but something about me made it feel natural. Familiar? As if it was an inevitable thing, something bound to happen that he couldn’t avoid. Like coming home after a long day of work.

He watched as the first rays of sunlight began to peek through his curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. It was time to wake up, but he found himself reluctant to disturb my peaceful sleep.

(Tag list: @vvzhyxx @your-silly-vox-stan @noodlemaaaan @alexartink )

[aziraphales-library]

Hello!

I cannot thank you enough for everything you do for the fandom. It’s so incredibly kind and amazing and cool of you to do this :) I know that this might be a bit specific, but I’d still like to ask if you could recommend any fics where Aziraphale has either been hurt or has gone through something traumatizing but he hasn’t told Crowley about it, because he thinks that it doesn’t matter, but eventually Crowley finds out and comforts him. (Like in not alone by Lalaland666) it would be awesome if it could also not be a AU, but it can be.

Thank you so so so so much, I hope that you have a wonderful day :D

Hi! Here are some fics in which Aziraphale is struggling, Crowley finds out why and comforts him. Mind the tags and warnings on a few of these!...

A Shadow In The Light by VinnieTheDuck (T)

While having a nice walk in Saint James Park, then having quite the homophobic encounter, Crowley says something during it that accidentally triggers Aziraphale.

let your guard down, for me by ineffableserpent (T)

Aziraphale has never fully calmed down, per say. He’d been able to reign himself in back to a state of functioning, trying to busy himself with other tasks to avoid spiraling once more. Crowley, the angel had discovered, was an immense source of comfort. … He didn’t wish for the demon to find out about his anxiety, as much as Aziraphale oh so desperately wanted to confide in him. But that would lead to Crowley becoming upset, and inevitably, upset with Heaven — considering that Upstairs has almost always been the source of the angel’s anxious responses. Aziraphale has always been able to keep a brave face — to appear as the guardian he was made to be. No matter how many nights he spent alone and gasping for air, begging for his body to cooperate, he always made it out in the end. Until tonight, that is.

Father of War by AraniWrites (T)

There were three things Crowley could depend on every day with complete certainty. One, that Aziraphale loved him utterly and completely, just as much as he loved him in turn. Two, that he could consistently count on the angel to be present within their shared flat above the old bookshop, engrossed in his books for days and weeks at a time, only broken by Crowley’s presence. Three, that they had agreed not to lie to one another again, and both had upheld their agreement faithfully. He had never had reason to doubt these three truths. That is, until today.

The Penitent Man by charliebrown1234 (M)

"I believe that very few men are capable of estimating the immense amount of torture and agony which this dreadful punishment, prolonged for years, inflicts upon the sufferers; ... I am only the more convinced that there is a depth of terrible endurance in which none but the sufferers themselves can fathom... I hold this slow and daily tampering with the mysteries of the brain to be immeasurably worse than any torture of the body; and because its ghastly signs and tokens are not so palpable to the eye and sense of touch as scars upon the flesh; because its wounds are not upon the surface, and it extorts few cries that human ears can hear; therefore the more I denounce it, as a secret punishment which slumbering humanity is not roused up to stay." - Charles Dickens on Solitary Confinement at Eastern State Penitentiary, 1842 Aziraphale and Crowley become trapped in an elevator post-Apocalypse, which brings back bad memories for Aziraphale. The resulting flashback is debilitating, and Crowley helps to walk Aziraphale through it.

useless, helpless, hopeless (safe) by Anonymous (M)

Crowley picked a bad day to drop by the shop. Gabriel had already gone, thank goodness, but the bruises on Aziraphale’s face most certainly had not, and the truth came out. Gabriel was raping Aziraphale, and there was absolutely nothing that Crowley could do about it.

What I Am by Anonymous (E)

Aziraphale knows what he is, in Heaven. He’s dirty, and tainted, and easy. He’s good for working off stress. He’s a lower angel, a demoted Cherub banished to Earth and forbidden from saying no. He’s Gabriel’s favourite, though he doesn’t understand why. He knows all too well what he is. But it doesn’t matter. Because Heaven is good, and all that they do must be good in return. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much he hates it. Heaven cannot possibly be wrong. Right?

And the one you mentioned...

(Not) Alone by lalaland666 (T)

Aziraphale had lost track of the days quite some time ago. He’d been counting the seconds in his head, before. Heaven was always bright, always lit by perpetual sunlight, and the Room was brighter than the rest of Heaven, too, so it made it quite difficult to keep track of… of… Aziraphale had lost track of the days quite some time ago. Aziraphale is punished by being put in solitary confinement. Eventually, Crowley finds out.

- Mod D

[iamnmbr3]

Who's alphard black and why do you ship him woth tom riddle? I'm just curious

*Gasps* What? What do you mean you don't know who Alphard Black, the star of this singular line in the whole series is?

Jkjk. Ok so Alphard Black gets mentioned once in the books (in the above line from Order of the Phoenix) and also appears in the offical Black family tree here:

Obviously that makes him a very minor character. Although it is interesting that we know he never married and produced children as would have probably been the norm for purebloods (*cough* "confirmed bachelor" *cough*) and that he never left the family/was disowned over ideology the way Andromeda or Sirius were, but also doesn't seem to have been mentioned as one of the ones who was actively involved in the Death Eater cause, apparently maintained something of a relationship with Sirius and even left him money even though he'd already left home and broken with his family over their politics (which apparently angered Sirus's mom so much that she burned him off the tapestry, and thus obviously wasn't the expected thing). He also is in the age range to have attended school with Tom Riddle.

That all provides some interesting fodder to work with. Which but for a twist of fate I never would have thought twice about or even noticed because once upon a time I, like you, would also have said "who is Alphard Black and why would anyone ship him with Tom Riddle?" In fact I did say just that to myself when I came across the fic Amulette d'amour by @therealvinelle and @thecarnivorousmuffinmeta.

I can't even remember how I happened to stumble across it. It was purely by chance. "What a wild and random concept for a pairing" I thought with a level of naivety and hubris that would shortly spell my downfall right into rarepair hell. "I'll just take a look out of curiosity" I thought.

Well the fic was both amazing and hilarious and contained a brilliant characterization of Alphard (and Tom) and a fascinating relationship dynamic which I have now decided is canon and I am now stuck shipping an extremely rare pairing to the hilt and having to explain to people why one of my all time favorite characters is mentioned precisely once in 7 books. You should totally read the fic though so that you, too, can suffer. Tom & Alphard are dysfunctional soulmates and Alphard is also genuinely a fascinating character (as he now exists in my head and in the few fics he appears in). It's canon in my heart. I am also deeply entertained by the humor potential of the ship.

[jasntodds]

Penance [2]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 8,134

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, some canon violence

Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: I hope you guys like this chapter!! It's just the beginning of what's to come!! lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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By the time the next day rolls around, Jason still doesn’t know Dick has asked you to help out. He thinks it’s just him which does have him wondering why Dick didn't ask you. It seems a bit odd given your whole friendship with Tim anyway but he chalks it up to maybe you being busy. Molly mentioned you were working on a case that kept you pretty busy. Maybe you've just been preoccupied with that to actually help. Jason isn’t sure and he isn’t entirely sure why it matters. It doesn’t. It shouldn't.

Jason gets ready to go find Tim. Dick sent him the time Tim should be arriving in Gotham with the specific instructions Dick gave Tim. Jason thinks about how if only Tim knew how lucky he was that Jason is going to be there. Tim has almost no training at all and Dick has basically thrown him to the wolves, or so Tim will think. And Jason can’t help but even feel a little excited over this whole thing. The last time he saw Tim, he was lying on the ground dying. Because of him. This is how he can start to repay Tim for the damage he caused him and his family. It is the least he could possibly do. Tim might not like him after, but he will be prepared and he will be a good Robin. Jason will make sure of it.

Jason heads out to find Tim, daunting his Red Hood gear and helmet. The drive isn’t too far from his safe house but it is raining tonight, on and off. Yesterday was nice, warm and no rain. It’s a bit of a depressing contrast between the two days. The street lights reflect off the wet pavement and Jason isn’t entirely sure what he’s going to do when he gets there. All he knows is Tim will probably need help and he’ll just take it from there. It’s not exactly how he wants to approach any situation but he’s not sure what Tim will even be doing.

Jason pulls up to a building across the street from an alley where some, surely, illegal deal of sorts is going down. Apparently, Tim is supposed to be here eventually so Jason parks the bike in the dark of his alley before he uses a grappling hook to get to the roof of the building just so he can see better. And then he waits.

Meanwhile, you’ve made your place on the roof overlooking the alley with the van, knowing this is where Tim will be. And you can’t help but feel excited to see him. You miss him a lot even if it is a little hard to be happy it’s under the circumstances of Robin. There’s also the bit of dread and excitement over seeing Jason, working with Jason.

Seeing him means there’s going to have to be some sort of conversation over the two of you being unable to pick up a phone and call each other. There’s going to be some sort of conversation about everything that happened. It’s going to bring back all of the pain all over again. Will you even be able to pick up where you left off? Or will you fall into an awkward dance where you both just fumble over each other until Tim leaves? Or will it be worse? But, seeing him, being around him, always felt the most like home and you really hope he’s okay and happy. You’re excited just to see how he’s doing.

You’re laying on your stomach to take cover while you watch over the ledge but your fingers tap wildly against the pavement at the thought. It’s the hope this goes okay, that he doesn’t hate you. That Tim is happy to see you both. That Tim doesn’t get killed in the first five minutes of being Robin. Excitement, dread, and anxiety flood your system. Why did you agree to this?

Commotion starts from below you and you see Tim on the top of a car while the goons are loading their van. Even in the low light, you can tell the suit is a little different than Jason’s and Dick’s. The cape definitely is with its jagged edges and it’s longer. It fits him actually. You stand on the edge of the roof, grappling hook in hand and knife in the other, ready to slide down the second things get out of hand. 

Tim handles himself okay at first but then they outnumber him and they’re faster than he is and better. You know Tim has had a few training sessions but by the looks of it, they could not have been very long or helpful. Things start looking pretty bad for him so you use the grappling hook to lower yourself down but before your feet even hit solid ground, shots ring through the alley, taking out one of the men and then the other. Just as your feet hit the ground, you nail the last one with a knife, turning to face down the alley with your arms crossed. And there he is, walking confidently with a gun in hand.

Of course, he beat you to it.

Jason’s eyes widen behind his helmet. He did not expect to see you tonight. Kind of like last night, seeing you throws him off. It’s a bit jarring somehow. Gotham might be a big city but you travel in the same circles, it was bound to happen. Just…two nights in a row seems…odd.

“I had that covered.” You state through your mask.

Jason can taste his heartbeat in his throat as he keeps closing the distance between you. Your mask always muffled your voice a little but it’s still his favorite sound. He can feel his cheeks burning and a smile desperate to cross his lips. Jason bites it back, trying to keep his composure.

“Where the fuck did you even come from?” Jason quips back.

He is eternally grateful for the helmet. You wre always best at reading him. You could read every expression that ever washed over his face no matter how subtle it was. It was as if you could read each other's minds half the time and he is so glad you can't see him. His eyes are scanning you over, noticing nothing too new in the suit. It still fits you just as it always did, perfectly fitted in the all right places. His eyes go back up to your face, the hood is pulled onto your head. He catches the yellowing around one of your eyes and he almost asks what happened before he swallows it down. It's not entirely his place to ask at the moment but he thinks you're still just as beautiful today as you were the first time he saw you and the last time he saw you.

You point to the roof. “Clearly. And you?” You question, keeping your voice flat and curious, trying to conceal your own nerves.

Jason points a thumb over his shoulder. “Clearly.” He echoes as he stands next to you.

It all clicks then, this was definitely a setup by Dick. Of all fucking people, Dick Grayson is doing this shit? Jason swears up and down this is getting ridiculous. Bruce, Molly, Gar, Dick? They are all trying to get you two to communicate and…maybe they have a point even if Jason never wants to admit it. Not when two of those people are Bruce and Dick. But, he can’t focus on that or how this is sending his head into a tailspin.

He needs to help Tim which means he can’t let his feelings for you get in the way even if ignoring them is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. He has to act normal and like being next to you doesn’t make him want to explode. He needs to keep his cool, keep the smile from ripping apart his lips because even if this is a setup and he should be mad, he misses you so fucking much it physically pains him. He can’t find himself to be mad because you’ll never abandon Tim so even if you don’t speak to Jason while you help him, at least he gets to see you as you. Like old times even if it doesn’t last and for that, Jason is happy.

Jason reaches behind his head, releasing the helmet before he takes it off and you swear you swallowed your heart. He looks so good. “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Jason calls, eyes locked on Tim and you think you’ve melted at the sound of his voice.

His voice is somehow better than you remember it. A little calloused, a little rough, but not too deep. It always fit him so well and you’ve never been so thankful to have a mask that covers the lower half of your mouth because your lips are curling into the most uncontrollable smile. Every piece of reservation you had about seeing him completely flies out of the window.

Jason Todd has always had his type of gravitation pull like a planet lost in the universe and you’ve just been sucked right back into it.

You miss him so fucking much.

Tim looks down to his chest, right at the R symbol before he looks back to Jason. “I’m Robin.” Tim states as if Jason should have known.

The subtle hint of a smile comes over Jason’s lips seeing someone else in the Robin suit. It’s weird because it almost feels…hurtful. It hurts a little seeing someone else in a position where he was, not in a jealous way but in a way that he is reminded that was him. He was Robin and he fucked up and now he’s not. It hurts in the way he’s reminded of it being ripped away from his bloody hands. The suit is different, Jason clocks almost every difference in the first few seconds but it is similar. Jason was beaten to death in something similar with the same mantle. There’s almost this part of him that even worries about it. Robin didn’t work for Dick. He didn’t die as Robin but it didn’t work for him. Jason was killed. Where’s that going to leave Tim?

On the other hand though, there is something about someone else taking up Robin that feels good. Jason died but Robin didn’t. Robin never had to die with Jason and he shouldn’t. The people need a Robin and he doesn’t really know Tim but you do and Gar does. He trusts you both and Tim looks thrilled to be here. It’s a mix but there is something kind of nice seeing the resurrection of Robin.

“Hey.” You chime as you walk closer to him.

Tim’s smile splits his face. “Hey, how’d you know I’d be here?”

“Molly tracked you the second a Robin showed up. Knew it was you.” You laugh softly before you pull him into a gentle hug. “You should have told me.” You say as you pull away, your hands coming to his shoulders as you look over the suit, noticing all the difference between this one and Jason’s.

“Yeah, I thought I could handle this.” Tim chuckles sheepishly, realizing he was a little in over his head tonight but not lacking in any of his confidence to do this job. 

“Clearly, you were wrong.” Jason closes the distance between you. “You’re lucky we showed up when we did.” Jason stands right beside you as you drop your hands from his shoulders, maybe you looking over the suit makes Jason want to chew his tongue out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I got that.” Tim nods his head. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The smile reaches your eyes as you beam back at Tim.

Jason’s eyes narrow at you slightly. You seem awfully happy. He knows Tim is your friend but you just seem overly happy or maybe he’s in his own head about it. He just remembers that day picking you up from Titans Tower and it was…similar. It’s like he’s getting stabbed in the chest and the base of his throat knowing you were not happy to see him tonight. The very thought of your feelings disappearing makes him feel like his rib cage might collapse on itself. So, he pushes it away as far as he possibly can and bites back his own words, trying to just be relieved you look happy instead of pissed off Dick set you up. He’s just thankful you haven’t run away. Yet.

“What’re you doing here anyways?” Jason asks with the nod of his head at Tim.

“Dick sent me.” Tim starts before explaining this whole fake plan thing Dick sent him on while you and Jason pretend to act as if you have no clue what he’s talking about.

Jason nods his head. “Well, it's getting pretty late. I got a place. Come on.” Jason jerks his head down the alley before he starts walking, not even waiting for a response.

“Wait, really?” Tim asks with hope.

“Before I change my mind.” Jason states, his back fully towards you and Tim before he puts the helmet on.

Tim’s eyes are wide with excitement. He gets to work the Red Hood?! He knows it’s Jason but he was the second Robin and he doesn’t even know much about him. Gar and you talk about him and he met him a few times but this is totally different. Red Hood is going to help him with this?

“You can ride me with. I’ve got an extra helmet. I figured you’d need a ride.” You put a hand on his shoulder before nodding towards Jason. “My bike’s not far.”

The three of you make your way to Jason’s bike that’s closer and then to yours before you and Tim follow Jason to his safe house. It’s the one you took him to when Crane kidnapped him. You stare up at the building for a few seconds, feeling something a bit bitter in the back of your throat over it. Jason can move on, you hope with everything in you that he is, but as someone who cares about him, it's your job to be bitter and pissed about everything Crane did to him forever.

Tim and you follow Jason into the building, now the three of you in your street clothes after taking a detour to change. You've almost had your eyes practically glued to Jason ever since. And it’s taking everything in Jason to focus on the task at hand and not stare at you with a million questions.

The hallway is messy. There’s stuff on the floor everywhere and even though Jason is walking ahead of you, you can’t help but narrow your eyes at him. Surely, he has time to pick up the floor instead of kicking things to the side as he walks by. Jason is always so meticulous with things he likes but he just can’t help the mess in a hallway or his room for some reason.

“Venta?” Jason asks, keeping his steady pace ahead of you and Tim.

“Yeah.” Tim starts. “He lives down on Harbor.”

“Never heard of ‘em.” Jason states, walking through the hallway where he has a laptop set up before he starts typing away at something.

“Dick says he’s got information on the Organization.” Tim explains as he stands beside Jason, resting his arm on the open counter space.

“He sent you to get intel on the Organization?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Tim says casually, but almost like he wants to be offended you'd question it but then he looks between you and Jason. “Maybe we could team on this.” Tim suggests. “The three of us.”

Jason looks to him, struggling not to glance at you before he turns around and starts walking away swiftly. “I don’t team anymore.” Jason says as the laptop makes a noise, you peaking over at it as Tim trails after Jason.

Security system, and a nice one, too. It looks at least similar to the one used at Wayne Manor and in the Batcave. There seems to be some sort of cloaking system to shield his location from anyone who might be looking for him. You've heard he’s made several big-name enemies in Gotham already which is not surprising. Gotham’s newest crime lord is going to take some heat. Of course, he's protecting himself. You're actually relieved by the system. Maybe the security system lets Jason get some sort of sleep.

“Security activated.” The computer sounds through the speakers above the three of you.

“You don’t understand.” Tim defends while you move to catch up with them. “Brother Blood put my boyfriend in a coma.” Tim watches as Jason climbs the stairs before he quickly follows suit, you right behind him.

Jason knows he has to play this off, even if Tim is going to nag him all night. If Jason immediately jumps to help him, Tim won't learn a damn thing and he'll probably figure it out. Jason has heard all about Tim's intelligence and detective skills. If Tim is going to be Robin, Jason's not going to make it easy.

“How long you been doing this Robin thing?” Jason asks.

“Um…” Tim stutters as him and you enter one of the rooms with Jason, Jason still several feet ahead of you. There’s workout equipment, monitors, a fridge. It looks like this is where he trains and keeps his eyes on Gotham. “Not long.” Tim says.

“A couple weeks?” Jason asks as he looks over his monitors on the far end of the room.

“Not quite.” Tim states, looking around the room.

“A week?” Jason asks.

“Last night was my first night.” Tim admits, almost sounding defeated.

You nearly cackle. “Sorry, what?” You spit back as Jason turns around. The two of you exchange a look of surprise and confusion. Dick did not say Tim had no training.

"Yeah..." Tim looks between you and Jason, unsure where you're going to take this conversation. He hopes it'll get you both on his side. He could use the help.

“Oh, the suit did look fresh off the rack.” Jason states. This is going to take a lot of time and effort. “If I were you, I’d get out of Gotham. Take some reps in like Tucson or some shit.” Jason states as he leans his lower back against the table with the monitors, his hands holding the edge of the table.

“Shit’s been quite a bit messy lately and the Bat’s outa town.” You explain as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Dick sent me here to find Venta.” Tim nearly cuts you both off.

“Your funeral.” Jason shakes his head. “You can crash here if you don’t have plans.” Jason gestures a hand out, offering his place for Tim. “I mean, there’s eggs, beer, cheese.” Jason gestures quickly to the fridge sitting on the wall facing Jason on the opposite side of the room.

“That is a lovely diet, Jason.” You mutter back, earning you a bit of a glare from Jason.

It's not exactly like Jason to not have some sort of variety. Generally, he eats pretty healthy in order to maintain the muscle and physical fitness to do this whole thing but eggs and cheese aren't exactly the healthiest thing, especially with the addition of beer. You know he's been busy with Red Hood, helping Barbara. But, you wonder if this is one of those things Molly and Gar are worried about. You make a mental note of it to ask later.

“Been busy.” Jason quips back, almost gauging how you’ll respond.

“I can see that.” Your eyes widen as your hands gesture around.

“Thanks.” Tim interrupts you, unsure if this will be an argument or some weird banter thing you two do. Tim sets the case with the suit against the wall and that’s when he sees a clear board with a cipher on it that looks like Jason’s been trying to crack. “You working on something?” Tim gestures towards it as he starts walking towards it.

“No. I’m paying the fucking cable bills.” Jason quips back.

“Need some help?” Tim asks, his hands in his pockets as he looks over the cipher.

“Since you’re being nosy,” Jason starts before he walks over to Tim, you joining on the opposite side. “Shimmer’s been pulling off high-end heists all over Gotham.” Jason explains. “Sending ciphers as clues.”

Tim looks over the cipher a bit more and he’s got it. He reaches over for the eraser next to the board and starts erasing some of the code Jason has cracked.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jason questions.

“You got your A right but your coding’s off.” Tim explains making you stifle a laugh.

“Fuck you.” Jason defends as he watches Tim.

“It’s a Fibonacci Sequence.” Tim states. “Each number is the sum of two numbers that precedes it.” Tim explains. Jason and you take a step back to watch Tim work. “K-L-E-I-D-S-C-O-P-E.” Tim spells it out, writing each letter. Tim takes a step back, a proud smile on his face while the three of you look over the word.

“Kaleidoscope.” Jason states. “Oh, shit.” Jason starts, rushing over to this phone sitting not the table beside the board.

“I just had fresh eyes.” Tim states, still looking at the board.

“Right, nothing to do with being a genius or anything.” You quip back.

“Hey, Babs.” Jason says with the phone now pressed to his ear. “Uh, Kaleidoscope Auction House. That’s the target for Shimmer’s next hit.” Jason explains before he pauses, looking back at Tim for just a second. “And I’ll take my usual percentage.” Jason says before he hangs up the phone. “So, you are really smart.” Jason states.

“Told you.” You mutter.

“It’s nothing, really.” Tim brushes it off.

“Right.” Jason nods his head. “So, what’s your plan anyways? Stick around Gotham until you find this guy?” Jason asks before he walks over to the fridge, you pull up a seat by the monitors.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Tim shrugs. “I asked around tonight but no one seems to know what I’m talking about.”

Jason nods his head, beer now in hand before he opens it. “Want one?” Jason asks. "Water, Gatorade?" Jason offers before his eyes go back to you. "I have other shit."

You roll your eyes, pathetically putting your hands up in defense, keeping your mouth shut this time. For once, you can't quite tell if your subtle jabs are actual jabs or if it's what you usually do. At this point, you're too afraid to ask because either answer sounds a bit too much.

“No, thanks.” Tim states.

Jason pulls a blue Gatorade from the fridge before crossing the room and offering it to you. It wasn't even a thought Jason had because you've always been someone who will not accept an offer of a drink and then drink his. It was more of a reflex to grab the Gatorade for you. A gentle smile pulls at your lips as you take it softly from him, careful not to let your hand brush his.

“Asking the wrong people probably.” Jason answers as he leans against the table in the space right beside you. “Or they don’t you seriously.” Jason uncaps his beer with the remark.

“Second one.” You state as you uncap your bottle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tim looks back at the both of you.

“You got your ass kicked tonight.” You state. “I got a feeling you aren’t very good at being intimidating.” You shrug your shoulder casually before you take a drink.

“Hey,” Tim gestures toward you. “I figured out all of you guys and got you to cave about it. I’m pretty good, I think.”

“You’re my friend and I felt bad for lying.” You chortle before you take a sip. "I was at no point ever intimated by you."

“If she didn’t want you to know, she never would have led you to believe otherwise.” Jason takes his own drink knowing damn well you could have, at the very least, hid your own identity from Tim if you really wanted to.

“Still, one of them would have told me! I’m Robin.” Tim tries to defend himself, his voice almost defensive until it finally hits enthusiastic with the mention of 'Robin'.

The way he says it makes you burst out laughing. The amount of times you've heard the words 'I'm Robin' with so much pride and enthusiasm makes it funny. It’s the innocence and confidence Robin brings. Tim isn’t as…cheerful, enthusiastic about it as Jason was. Tim has seen the horrors already but…there is something familiar about it that makes you laugh. You hope he's able to keep that.

Jason thinks he’s melted into the ground with your laugh. The hard part of this whole thing is not going to be training Tim. That’ll be easy. The hardest part is going to pretend like it isn’t killing him to act like this is all fine with him and you. It is killing him not to poke fun at you or ask about everything. This is going to be torture.

“That what I sounded like?” Jason asks quietly.

“Kind of.” You nod your head at him, a soft and beaming smile directed right at him.

“What?” Tim questions.

“Nothing.” You brush it off. “Okay, look, why don’t you stay here with Jason for tonight and I’ll come by tomorrow. We’ll go look together.”

“You do teams?” Tim quips.

“No.” You shake your head, knowing that is a bald-faced lie. “But you’re my friend and I help my friends.”

“Okay, yeah, cool.” Tim smiles widely. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” You nod softly before clearing your throat. “I’m gonna head out then. Uh…” You pause for a second before you get to your feet. “Molly is probably waiting for me so I’ll just text you what time to be ready.” You offer Jason a nervous nod and closed-mouth smile.

You make your way to Tim, giving him a quick hug before you head for the door. Jason almost lets you. But, seeing you and feeling this way? It’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want you to be here just because Dick asked you. He doesn’t want you to be here just for Tim. He can’t just pretend this is all fine.

“I’ll, uh, walk you out.” Jason pushes off the table, earning you to turn around, raising a brow at him.

“Uh...yeah, yeah, okay.” You nod slowly. “Thanks.”

“Don’t touch anything.” Jason warns Tim before catching up to you.

You and Jason walk side-by-side out of the room and your stomach is swirling, turning into a goo. You're nearly vibrating from nervousness being around him again. And he looks so good. He looks healthy. The last time you saw him, he was covered in scrapes and bruises but there aren’t any on his face. You know there have to be some under his clothes but his face looks good and his cheeks aren’t as hollowed as they were before. His hair is fluffy just as it always was. He looks good.

Jason glances at you and Jason Todd is not one to get nervous but he is so nervous right now he’s stuffing his hands in his pockets just because his hands are sweating too much. It’s you and he has no reason to be nervous but his heart is thundering in his chest and he wants to smile ear-to-ear. Everything is different but it almost doesn’t feel that way. His heart is beating for you right now just as it did from day one to day 100. It only ever beats for you.

The two of you reach the door, standing and facing each other. There should be sort of 'see you later' exchange that happens but neither of you entirely know how to do that. Not with each other. You were friends, then friends with benefits, then together, and now you're exes. A handshake still feels far too professional given the intimacy that stands between you and the horrors you've endured together. A wave feels fucking pathetic. And a hug seems a bit out of the question.

It's not even like either of you want to do this whole 'see you later' thing. You both have endless questions and if tonight ends, tomorrow will begin and it might be different again. Jason doesn't want to risk anything in this. So, instead of fumbling his way through a goodbye that would haunt him in his sleep for the next ten years, he starts conversation just to stall you a little.

“What’d you do?” Jason jerks his head, pointing towards the bruise on your eye and he almost touches it. He has to force his hands to stay in his pockets.

“Oh, uh,” You smile softly, touching the yellow with your fingertips. “Molly, actually.”

“No fucking way.” Jason chuckles.

“Yeah, uh, been training her a bit.” Your brows furrow just for a second before you lick your lips. “She asked just to be prepared walking home or some shit. Um…and uh, obviously, you taught her a thing or two. But, she actually fell and I got an elbow to the face.”

Jason lets out a booming laugh and you forget how to breathe. It sounds just as lovely as it did before. Booming and loud, thunder shaking your rib cage free of all its pain.

“It was an accident?”

“Yeah.” You nod quickly. “Fucking painful one. This shit is two weeks out. My eye was swollen shut for like two days!”

Jason keeps laughing and his nose scrunches. You swear he’s still the cutest person to ever walk the earth. How could anyone not be in love with him?

“Sorry, you alright?” Jason asks, but the smile is still ripping across his face as he licks his lips.

“I am fine, thank you.” You nod your head, a soft smile on display. “You, uh, you look good, Jay.”

The nickname sends his head into a spiral. He can’t believe after everything you’ve done to each other and the time that’s passed, you can still make him feel this way. You make him feel like everything is gonna be alright somehow. And he makes you so happy. Something so simple and it’s just joy.

“Thanks.” Jason nods his head. “So do you.” His eyes soften with the ease of his words.

“Thank you.” You pull in a breath.

There’s a silence that falls over you and something hits you both. This is a request from Dick. It wasn’t supposed to be a reunion for you. It just happened to work out that way. Jason still did all of that and you still hurt him and betrayed him. Neither one of you had the courage to call the other. It took Tim coming here needing help. Something about that really hurts. Your minds take over even as happy as you are to see each other, to feel the love blossom through your chests. But, you look at each other and wonder how you could ever ask for forgiveness, especially with each other looking so good. So, you don’t. You punish yourselves.

“Molly’s helping me, by the way.” You blurt out on purpose, knowing it’ll piss him off.

You aren't trying to hurt him, you're just pissing him off. Jason will snap and fire back and you think you'll deserve it. Jason Todd has been very good at pushing everyone away and you've been very good at running. But, you know Jason expects you to run. If he ever wanted to forgive you for some reason, he'll know exactly what to do. So, you take a page out of his book and push. It'll catch him off guard, piss him off, and it'll be what you deserve anyway. You push.

Jason shakes his head, eyes widening. “What the fuck does that mean?” He snaps, searching your face for any indication this is some sort of joke.

“She helps me as Bluejay.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Why the fuck would you let her do that?!” Jason nearly demands as he crosses his arms.

Molly is his friend, too. He knew something was going on but he didn’t think Molly was actually helping. At this point, he's pretty sure the two of you have lost your damn minds. Molly didn't even agree with Batman and Robin and now she's helping? All people do in this path is get hurt or worse. Jason isn't going to give it up and he'd never ask anyone to. But, why the fuck would you let Molly help you? If he knows you at all, he knows you shouldn't be happy about it.

“She asked.” You keep your voice nonchalant, knowing that'll irritate him even more.

“Oh, so fuck it, right? She asked and you’re just gonna let her? And what the fuck are you gonna do when someone figures it out, huh?” Jason seethes as he tosses his right arm to the side.

“Oh, but it’s fine for Tim, right?” You question back as you blink at Jason. He doesn't seem to have a single issue with Tim, just Molly which is some of the ammo you were looking to get out of this.

“He wouldn’t leave any of you guys alone!” Jason defends, his hands shooting out to his sides. Molly and Gar have said they're worried bout you and while he's getting pissed off, he's also growing worried. Starting an argument with him is very uncharacteristic. “Molly isn’t a fighter! You’re putting her in harm’s way!” Jason shakes his head before clocking the Tim remark entirely. “I don’t have a fucking say on if Tim’s Robin, by the way. He’s your fucking friend, too! The fuck are you mad at me for?”

“But you were the previous Robin!” You snap back and you aren’t even sure why you do it. You don't want Robin to be the topic of the argument because that isn't fair. You just can't help it, your mouth is moving faster than your guilt and reason. “You’re not bothered by it at all but I have Molly working on a computer and that’s not fine?” You spit back.

Ow.

If there's anything Jason knows about punishing himself, it's what pushing looks like. He's not entirely sure what is setting you off but there's something. You're hitting a low blow bringing Robin into it and while he doesn't want to fight, it hits an exposed nerve. Jason Todd has always hated feeling exposed.

Jason shakes his head with a bitter laugh. “You haven’t fucking talked to me in over a month but now you think you know how I fucking feel about a Robin?” Jason lets out a scoff. “And yeah because Molly doesn’t need to be in the fucking middle of some bullshit you won’t be able to handle. You’ll get hurt or some bullshit, go to her, and you’ll be tracked. You don’t have a security system, bet your locks are shit, what’re you gonna do, huh?”

“Yeah, well, phones work both ways, Jason.” You spit back, choosing to ignore the second half of the argument. He isn't wrong and you know it. “Molly wouldn’t leave me alone about it and ya know, in my experience, the more we let people not help when they are adamant, they do it anyway and then they die or get hurt.” You scoff back. “Seemed better this way.” Sam nearly mutters it bitterly.

Jason can feel his heart breaking again because this isn't about Molly. He knew it wasn't but it's still about him. He's thinking you're not over the fact that he died which you should not be. But, it almost feels like you're choosing to blame him for his own death and that's something he never thought you would do.

“The fuck is that supposed mean?” Jason asks, his voice rough and angered but he’s not yelling. That’s always the most hurtful form of Jason Todd.

Too far. Too far. Too far.

You never intended to hurt him. It's just...maybe there's a lot of unsaid things from both of you because you both were always so worried about fucking it up. What's left to fuck up now?

You backpedal anyway because it is not fair. It's not his fault. “Nothing.” You shake your head.

“No, tell me what you really mean.” Jason keeps his stance, his voice unwavering.

Jason sees it as you blaming him but that's not true. The way you see it, if people want to help, maybe they're better off to help. Jason and you were held captive and dropped from a Skyscraper because you wanted to help and Dick said no. Jason wanted to be Robin and help and Bruce ripped it away. Tim wanted to help but everyone said no. Anytime someone really wants to help, they do and then they get hurt or worse. Molly was going to try and help one way or another. This way, you can keep an eye on her. Though, you can't quite bring yourself to explain it all.

“You. Me. Tim. Dick. Gar. Rachel.” You explain. “All of us.”

“And we were fucking thrown into this shit. All of us.” Jason argues his side. “I sure as shit didn’t pick it--”

“But you would have!” You scream back because it all just hurts again. He's lying to himself if he doesn't think he wouldn't have picked Robin if it were a choice. “Don’t pretend like Robin was some burden thrown onto you because he wasn’t! You loved it. You still do. Bruce may have weaponized you but he offered it to you and you took it.”

He knows you're right. Of course, he would have picked it. It was the coolest and greatest thing to happen to him at the time. He was useful and he was enough. He was finally fucking good at something and he was finally good for something. It made him feel like he belonged somewhere even if it didn't last. Of course, he'd do it again. As hard as it is, as tortuous as the last few months have been, he doesn't think he'd do anything differently.

“Fine, what about you?” Jason quips back. “Dick gave you a fucking choice. I remember that.” Jason scoffs. “You’d take it all back? If you knew how this ended.”

“Of fucking course I would, Jason!” Your voice finally cracks. “Yeah, I’d never fucking ask you to help me and I never would have went after Deathstroke with you or Jerry or any of this shit. If I could go back, I’d undo it.” You pull in a shaky breath and lower your voice. “It hurts all the time. I’d undo it.” You give him a sad and defeated shrug.

It hurts to say it but a part of you, really thinks you'd undo it if given the chance. Maybe you would just tell Dick no. Maybe it wouldn't be like this today. But, there is a larger part of you thinking you wouldn't be able to undo it. A lot of good came out of you being a Titan. You found this family and maybe had you just said no, it wouldn't be like this. You've been able to save a lot of people since being back on Gotham and doesn't that make it all worth it? The greater good should win.

You're looking at Jason and you wouldn't undo that. A lot of good came out of you being a Titan. Finding a family and new friends, Molly, learning how to properly fend for yourself and knowing you don't have to. It's all good. And Jason. A lot of good came out of being a Titan and Jason is so intertwined in that, you'd never be able to undo it without undoing you two.

You would never be able to.

You don't want to and this whole argument was just so stupid.

Jason looks to the ground and he knows what you mean but so much of you is intertwined in doing this that undoing that, almost feels like undoing you two. He knows that's not what you mean and you're angry over something Jason isn't sure what. You've talked about it. It's just harder today. It doesn't stop it from hurting though.

“Why put that on Molly then?” Jason brings his voice back down.

“Because you’d do it all over again.” You say softly. “Because Dick would do it over again. And Bruce and Tim and Kory and…all of them without even thinking twice about it. I think even Gar would. Molly won’t regret it and you know that.” You strengthen your voice.

This is stupid. He’s supposed to be doing better here but he fights you anyway. The punishment to himself and you started it. But…it doesn’t feel good to be here again. He doesn’t want to be here. He has fought tooth and nail to be alone and now that he is, he doesn’t like it too much. It hurts to be here alone. It hurts to be here without you. Jason promised you he’d make it up to you one day and yeah maybe he could have called and you could have called. But, neither of you did. Jason tells the voices in his head to shut the fuck up and he bites back at them.

“Just…make sure she’s safe.” Jason swallows thickly, catching you off guard. Jason never backs down. “You’re probably right. Molly can be pretty persistent.” He backs down for himself and for you. He won't let you punish yourself this way. You never let him.

“Yeah…” You trail off, tugging the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands as guilt eats away at your bones. “I didn’t want her help.” You whisper, caving, too. It doesn’t matter what you think you deserve and don’t deserve. Jason doesn’t deserve someone to push him away if he’s trying. That’s not fair. “But…it doesn’t work telling people no so…I make sure she’s okay.” You nod your head. “She is only my eyes in the sky. No one even knows I have someone on the inside.”

“Good.” Jason nods his head. “Yeah…” Jason trails off, his stare going to the floor, the white streak hanging loosely over his forehead.

One of you has to bring it up. One of you has to bring up the time you’ve spent apart. One of you has to say something besides the unsaid words that are nearly strangling you both. It will always feel giddy with a sense of dread and awkwardness unless you do. You always apologize.

“I’m sorry for not calling.” Jason states, catching you off guard and it’s like he’s just stacked twenty more pounds of guilt onto your pile. A lump grows in your throat and not once did you ever actually blame him for not calling you. You think he shouldn’t in order to protect himself. “I just…got busy and I don’t know.” Jason shrugs his right shoulder. “Should have.”

“I-I’m sorry, too.” You nod your head. “I, uh…yeah, busy.” You nod your head, swallowing the lump in your throat and biting back tears.

He has nothing to be sorry for.

Jason’s heart sinks because there’s something wrong. There is always something in the way you stutter around him that gives it away. It got to the point where you almost never did. You almost never tugged your sleeves down. It’s more of a nervous tick than anything and now you're doing it again. You're too exposed around him again and Jason can’t help but feel it’s all his fault and it’s too late. The thing you had, that strength that ruins mountains, has just wilted away. He thinks it might be his biggest regret.

“I’m really sorry.” You say more clearly this time. "For, uh, f-for not calling and uh, arguing with you just now. I, uh...I-I don't know." You tug the collar of your hoodie down just a bit, feeling suffocated by the fabric but then Jason sees the silver of a necklace around your neck.

You still wear it?

You open your mouth to talk but Jason cuts you off.

“Is that the necklace I gave you?” He blurts out before he can even process it.

He needs to know.

You look down, seeing the chain stare back a you before you pull the pendant from your hoodie and Jason wants to combust.

“Yeah.” You state, the infinity charm staring back a you. “Uh…” A smile pulls at your lips. You never take it off even when it all feels hopeless because maybe, just maybe, it's not just the cliche of infinity of you but some sort of symbol of hope that you'll find your way back to each other one day. “I know we haven’t talked and this shit feels awkward and shit but uh, I don’t know.” You lick your lips. “Figured Molly would call if you something happened and then…you’d know.”

You're realizing how dumb this whole thing. Maybe you can’t have what you really want. Maybe that’s not how this is meant to be. But you know he checks up on you and you know he knows you do the exact same. It’s silly and ridiculous for you to tiptoe over each other as if you haven’t witnessed each other at your best and worst. You held his lifeless body in your hands. Jason saves your life. Being a part from each other…not worth it.

A smile pulls at his lips before it turns into a smirk. “Someone’s gotta be prepared with your habit of being kidnapped.” Maybe it gives him hope, too.

“Shut the fuck up.” You groan. “It’s been months.” You can't help the smile that crosses your lips.

“You’re due.” Jason quips back.

You let out a laugh, sending a chill down Jason's spine. “I am good on that thanks.”

Jason tilts his back, feeling the same as you. This whole thing is fucking stupid. He needs to swallow his pride and he just doesn’t want you to leave. Despite his habit of spiraling into self-deprecating thoughts, he knows there has to be something left between you. Since the very first day, there has been something there. So, maybe you try this friend thing again. Maybe it'll work out.

“This is fucking stupid, right?” Jason laughs. “Not talking and shit.” He clarifies.

“Yeah.” You nod with a laugh. “Molly and Gar and Tim and Dick have been telling me that.”

“Molly, Gar, and Dick.” Jason groans. “Fuck, even Bruce.”

You let out a laugh. “Okay, you know it’s bad when Bruce is over here giving you advice on this shit.”

“Right?” Jason lets out a scoff. “We good?” Jason asks with hopeful eyes.

“Always were, Jay.” You smile softly at him and in that moment, you make a silent promise to yourself that you don’t care about your heart but you will guard his with every knife you have. “Friends who actually talk and act like it this time?” You question.

“Yeah, need someone to nag me.” Jason sticks his hand out.

“Oh, well, if you insist. Clean this fucking place, it’s a mess!” You take his hand in yours, shaking it softly.

“Since we’re friends, you could help.” Jason quips back, looking at the hallway that resembles the aftermath of a tornado.

You take your hand back. “You could go fuck yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jason grins back at you with furrowed brows.

Your brows raise with a splitting smile. “Ask your hand.”

Jason let out a chortle. “Fair.”

“Okay, seriously, I gotta get back. Molly will have too many questions if I stay any longer.” You nod your head, already mentally preparing for the amount of questions Molly will have and knowing none of them will actually pertain to Tim. “I’ll be back tomorrow, you gonna come?”

“Nah.” Jason shakes his head, figuring he'll let the two of you catch up by you showing him the ropes alone for a bit. “You guys go. Dick call you?”

“Mhm, you?” You pretend like you don’t know, mostly to keep the peace between the batboys.

“Yep.” Jason nods his head. “Setup?”

“Absolutely.” You laugh. "Dude still hasn't told Kory but he's setting us up."

"We have to repay the favor then, I guess." Jason offers you a wild and menacing grin.

"Oh, definitely." You nod quickly.

Jason shakes his head with a laugh. "Just gotta get Tim into shape first."

“We’ll get him ready in no time.” You beam back at him with the scrunch of your nose.

“We’ll start training when you guys get back tomorrow but follow my lead.” Jason offers, already ten steps ahead with a plan.

“Because Tim can’t know.” You finish.

“I got an idea.” Jason nods.

“You always have a plan.”

“Always.” The word babe almost slips from his lips.

“Okay, Jay.” Your cheeks burn, sensing it, too. “I will see you tomorrow.” You nod once before you turn on your heels and exit the building.

Jason watches you and his thinks he’s breathless. There’s something reminiscent of the first day he met you. Not entirely knowing much about you. He knows about you today but there’s a gap of time he’s missing. There are two actually because he doesn't know all of the details in the time he died. There are voids he’s missing and what’s changed about you because of them? It almost feels like that first day because his bones are vibrating with excitement and he can’t wait to see you again. It feels like it did then and he would love to keep chasing that feeling.

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[chicgeekgirl89]

Summary: While responding to a multi-car pileup, Carlos is involved in an accident that leaves him fighting for his life. A/N: This was a request from @rubinsteinsilva126. They requested: I’d want a Carlos Whump story! Carlos getting injured, riding in the ambulance that TK responds to the call of, and then TK later holding Carlos in the hospital bed because Carlos was in pain and needed comfort 🥺 (Also, they requested this almost a literal year ago. So I am no longer taking requests because I am clearly bad at following through on them! 😂)

Read on AO3

T.K. does not want to be at the scene of a multi-car pileup. T.K. doesn’t want to be at work in general today. What T.K. wants is to be at home, in his bed, with the covers pulled up over his head, his moody playlist blasting in his ears.

But unfortunately his work schedule doesn’t care about his feelings in the slightest and instead he’s arriving in an ambulance at said multi-car pileup in the middle of the highway.

And his husband is here. Because of course he is.

T.K. spots Carlos directing traffic around the accident as soon as they pull up in the rig. Usually this would be a delight. Usually he would smile and wave and feel a rush of joy at seeing Carlos during a call. There’s something special about working together to save lives. 

But today he is not thrilled.

“Oh look, there’s Carlos,” Nancy says as they jump down from the rig and start gathering supplies. “Are you going to go say hi?”

At that moment Carlos sees them, his eyes locking with T.K.’s. Neither of them smile and after a second Carlos looks away, focusing on directing a blue Toyota around the mangled mess of cars.

“Well that seemed a little frosty,” Tommy says as she steps up next to them.

“Frosty? That was downright arctic,” Nancy says, eyeing him curiously. “Trouble in paradise?”

T.K. shifts the backpack on his shoulders, annoyed at how the straps are already digging into him after only a few seconds. “Carlos and I,” he says testily, “are in a fight.”

“Well that explains it,” Nancy says with a roll of her eyes. “You’ve been grouchy all day.”

“No I haven’t,” T.K. snaps back at her in annoyance. The only thing worse than being pissed off at your husband is having your friends point out that you’re pissed off at your husband.

“Sweetheart if looks could kill we’d both be dead,” Tommy says gently. “Several times over.”

“Well I’m—” T.K. huffs, “I’m mad at him.”

“Yeah that doesn’t mean the rest of us should have to suffer,” Nancy says. “What are you so mad at him about?”

T.K. turns his hands into fists, squeezing them tightly as all the feelings of the last twenty-four hours bubble just underneath the surface of his control. “He keeps turning the thermostat down.”

Tommy and Nancy both blink at him. When they don’t speak he presses on. “I turn it up and the next thing I know I come back out and it’s turned down again. It’s like he doesn’t even care about climate change at all!”

“Haven’t you two lived together for like, a long time now?” Nancy asks. “Shouldn’t you have worked out the temperature of your living space at this point?”

“We had to replace the thermostat last week,” T.K. says. “It’s all different now.”

“I understand that must be frustrating, but I’m not sure it’s worth having a fight about,” Tommy says.

“That’s not the only thing,” T.K. continues. “It’s the pillows.”

“The pillows?” Nancy asks.

“He buys allllll these throw pillows and puts them all over the place, but guess what? Are we allowed to touch them? Lean on them? Use them for what they’re intended for? No. Why? Because they’re ‘decorative’ and if I lean on them they’ll ‘lose their shape.’ Isn’t that insane? Why do we have them if we can’t use them?”

“Okay, yes, that does seem kind of annoying,” Tommy says, but T.K. is on a roll, and now that he’s started airing his grievances to the public he can’t seem to stop.

“Also he got his hair cut too short last time!” he gripes, glaring at the back of his husband’s head.

“Um, his body his choice dude,” Nancy says.

“I know that!” T.K. says with a scowl. “But he knows how much I like his curls and he didn’t even tell me he was going to do it, he just showed back up at the loft looking like a sheep after shearing!”

He can hear the words they’d hurled at each other even now, as if he’s reliving them.

T.K. had come out of his shower, still toweling off his hair when he’d heard the whoosh of the AC system kicking on. Eyeing the thermostat on the wall he’d sighed. “Seriously Carlos?” he’d said, turning to look at his husband, who was reading in their bed.

“What?” Carlos asked in confusion.

“You turned the thermostat down. Again.”

“Yeah…” Carlos said slowly. “It was getting stuffy in here.”

“You know that air conditioning is a big part of the issue with our carbon footprint.” This shouldn’t have been a big deal to him, but T.K. had come from a meeting grumpy and in the mood for a fight.

Carlos set his book down and scoffed. “I don’t think using the air conditioning that was built into our home long before we moved in is that big of an issue T.K. We live on the top floor. Heat rises. It gets warm up here without it on.”

“Then open a window.”

Carlos bristled, rising to the bait T.K. was laying out for him.“It’s ninety five degrees outside! The air is so stagnant out there it’s like opening an oven door! Why are you freaking out about this?”

“I’m not freaking out, I’m just asking you to think about the environment and our electric bill!”

“Our electric bill is fine! What do you want me to do, plant a tree every time I turn the temperature down a degree?”

“That would be a start.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “It’s my home too T.K. I should be allowed to have a say in it.”

“Oh, like I have a say with the throw pillows?” T.K. snapped.

“That’s totally different!”

“How Carlos? How is it different? You want to use the air conditioning, I want to use the throw pillows. It’s exactly. the. same.” He gestured sharply with his hand to emphasize his point.

“Because the air conditioning doesn’t lose shape and color when you lean against it! I picked them all out, I’d like them to stay nice so that when people come over they don’t look like shit!” Carlos’ eyes flashed dangerously, a sign that he was well and truly pissed off.

“You think our friends are judging us for our misshapen throw pillows? Wow you really are a control freak.” 

“You don’t care if our friends think our home is nice?”

“I really don’t.” That wasn’t true, but it felt good to say it in the moment.

Carlos rolled his eyes.“Okay. Sure. Next time we have game night we’ll just let our all friends sit against lumpy, flattened pillows.”

“Do you not hear how insane that sounds?!”

“Oh, is it as insane as keeping mealworms in our refrigerator next to our food so they last longer?”

T.K. gapes at him. “You said it was fine!”

“I said it was fine. I didn’t say I liked it,” Carlos said, his lips pressing together into a thin line.

“So you’d rather Lou II starve? Is that what you want?”

“No, of course not T.K.! It is unbelievable to me that you would even say that after all I’ve done for that stupid lizard!”

They’d gone on for another fifteen minutes before descending into frosty silence after T.K. declared he hated Carlos’ new haircut. Both of them refused to move to  the couch so they laid angrily next to each other until they fell asleep. The silence had persisted through the morning as they readied for work, ending in a terse, “Love you, be safe,” from both of them before they headed out the door.

“You’re comparing your husband to a sheep?” Tommy asks, an amused smile on her face.

“Yes!” T.K. gripes. “And that’s not all. He also—“

There’s a screech of tires and a car, a silver Honda, pulls out of the line of vehicles that are waiting to pass the accident and tries to zoom around them. Time slows and T.K. sees what’s about to happen and realizes there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

The Honda clips Carlos and sends him spinning, his body whirling like a top before he collapses to the ground, unmoving. 

“CARLOS!” His husband’s name tears from his lips and T.K. is running before he can think, feet flying over the ground to reach Carlos’ side. He skids to a stop and drops to his knees, backpack falling to the ground beside him.

Carlos is flat on his back, eyes wide, mouth gaping as a harsh, rasping sound escapes from his chest. He looks shocked, terrified, and T.K. can tell his own face is a mirror of the same horror. “Carlos, Carlos, hey, hey talk to me,” T.K. babbles out, hands hovering, afraid to touch, all his training completely gone from his mind as panic takes over.

“T.K.” His name comes out on a whimper and T.K.’s heart shatters inside of his chest. He’s never heard Carlos make such a terrible sound in his entire life.

The world around him feels like it’s moving through sludge, everything slow, muffled out of focus. The only thing he can see is Carlos’ pained expression. And then there are hands on T.K.’s back and everything snaps into real time as Nancy and Tommy join him on the ground.

“T.K. back up,” Tommy says sharply. “Give us some room to work.”

T.K. shuffles back awkwardly, hands clenching into the knees of his uniform pants to stop them from shaking. 

“Carlos, baby, where are you hurting?” Tommy asks as she takes scissors to Carlos’ uniform shirt.

“My…chest…” The words barely come out, strung together on forced gasps that sound terrible and painful. “Leg…”

“He’s not moving air,” Nancy says, a stethoscope pressed to Carlos’ chest. “I think it’s a pneumo Cap.”

“Okay, we’ll have to decompress him,” Tommy says. “Grab the kit. And a splint, he’s got a tibia fracture in his left leg.”

“On it.”

It’s all moving so fast, everything a blur, and T.K. is struggling to keep up with it all. It doesn’t feel real, this can’t be happening. Not to them. Not now. Not again—

“T.K. come hold his head,” Tommy orders.

In hindsight he’ll wonder if she really needed his help or was just giving him something to do so he didn’t come apart at the seams on the asphalt of the highway, but in the moment he does exactly what she asks without question, his hands, cloaked in blue gloves, cradling Carlos’ head just above the c-spine collar they’ve put on him to keep his neck stabilized.

Carlos’ terrified eyes look up at him, boring deeply into his own and T.K. should offer some words of comfort, tell him he’s going to be okay, that they’re taking good care of him, but he can’t. The words won’t come.

He can tell when they finally shove the needle into Carlos’ chest, feels relief when air hisses out and Carlos takes a huge breath. “That’s it, keep breathing Carlos,” Tommy says as Nancy slips an oxygen mask over his face. “You’re doing great. Just relax and let us take care of you.”

She glances up her eyes finding T.K.’s and usually he would grab onto the calm he sees in them, but he can’t right now. His spirit feels wild, like it’s been torn loose from his body and is whirling around in an uncontrollable storm. “T.K., you with me?”

“Yes,” he rasps out. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Good. Because I’m going to need your help getting him onto the backboard.”

They roll Carlos on and then get him into the ambulance. Later T.K. will find out the entire event took less than ten minutes. In the moment it feels like hours. 

T.K. sits in the back of the ambulance with Tommy as Nancy drives. He watches as Carlos’ body finally starts to relax, morphine doing its work as it drips into his veins. 

He looks up into T.K.’s eyes and it’s only then that T.K. realizes he’s crying, his eyes a darker brown color than usual that only comes when tears are falling. T.K. reaches down and carefully wipes them away.

“I’m—“ Carlos’ voice is breathy and muffled behind the mask, but he pushes the words out anyway, “—sorry.”

T.K. shakes his head his own tears falling now, droplets landing in his lap and soaking into his pants. “You don’t need to be sorry,” he says, brushing a hand gently through those short curls that he said he hated last night and now he loves more than anything in the world. “I’m sorry.”

“Call…my….mom?”

T.K. nods. “As soon as we get to the hospital and you’re checked in okay?”

Carlos’ eyes close and T.K. thinks the medicine and the pain have finally pulled him under, but then the blinks them open again, and they spear him with a terrified intensity. “Scared.”

Oh god. Oh god this is going to break him. “I know you’re scared,” T.K. says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks and resuming brushing his fingers gently through Carlos’ hair. “But you’re okay. You’re stable and we’re almost to the hospital. They’re going to take good care of you and soon…soon all of this will just be a memory. We’ve got you. Tommy’s here and Nancy and…and we’ve got you.”

He hopes that will be enough.

Within fifteen minutes of arriving at the hospital Carlos is taken off to be prepped for surgery. That’s when T.K. finally loses it, collapsing into a chair and sobbing into his hands as Nancy rubs his back while Tommy takes over the task of calling Andrea and his dad.

“He’s going to be okay,” Nancy says, but T.K. can hear tears in her voice too. “It’s a pneumo, some bleeding, broken bones, it’s all fixable. He’ll be all right.”

“What if he’s not?” T.K. cracks out. “What if this is…what if he…and the last thing we did was fight about the thermostat?”

“T.K., Carlos knows it was just a fight,” Nancy says. “Couples have fights. About important stuff and stupid stuff.”

“She’s right.” Tommy sits down on his other side. “Just because you were having an argument, it doesn’t negate everything else. Carlos knows that. And you do too.”

“It was just so stupid,” T.K. says, sniffing and wiping ineffectually at his eyes which will not stop crying. “How could I have been so stupid?” He struggles to push the next words past his throat. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“I know,” Tommy says. “Let’s not go there yet though, hm? Let’s have faith. Carlos is strong. He can pull through this.”

Andrea and his dad arrive and T.K. pulls it together enough to be strong for his mother-in-law who needs to believe that she’s not going to watch her only son die when the loss of her husband still feels so fresh. T.K. explains what happened, interprets everything the doctor told him on arrival, discusses what the surgery will entail, and the possible outcomes. 

It’s exhausting and he takes himself off to the bathroom for another crying jag about two hours after they arrive, returning with red, swollen eyes that they both can see. Andrea immediately folds him into a hug and they stay that way until the doctor finally returns.

He reports that Carlos’ surgery went well. They repaired his lung along with some other internal damage and set his leg fracture. He’s also got three broken ribs and a concussion, but overall he’s in good shape considering. It could have been much worse.

Somehow that phrase doesn’t feel like a comfort.

Tommy and Nancy leave once Carlos is settled into a room. He’s very out of it, the sedation and heavy pain medication taking a severe toll on his ability to stay awake. He manages a hello to his mom and Owen before lapsing back into sleep again. It’s brief, but it goes a long way toward reassuring them all that he’ll be okay. 

His dad heads out after that to grab some things from the loft so T.K. doesn’t have to spend the entire night in the hospital in his uniform and Andrea decides to go to the chapel for a little bit. T.K. is grateful for the space.

He sits in the chair next to Carlos’ bed, picking at a stray string on the cuff of his shirt. God he fucking hates hospitals. They’ve spent more time inside these walls the last few years than any human should have to. If he never has to come here again it will be too soon.

“T…K.?”

The croak has him snapping his head up to find Carlos struggling to open his eyes, pain lining the tension in his limbs, the darkness of his eyes, the creases of his forehead. He has medication onboard, but it’s like his body still knows how broken it is, even if he can’t fully feel it.

“Hey.” T.K. sits forward and forces a smile that feels like it’s straining his face. “Hey baby.”

Carlos swallows, the pain mixing with confusion in his eyes. “Am I—?”

“You’re okay,” T.K. says. They filled him in the first time he woke up, but it’s clear that it didn’t stick. “You were in an accident. Your lung was collapsed and you have a broken tibia and some ribs, but you’re going to be okay.”

Carlos nods, his eyes closing briefly as if he’s struggling to take it all in. “I’m okay?” Carlos asks, like he’s really not sure.

“Yes,” T.K. says firmly, reaching out to cover the back of his hand. “Yes, you’re okay. It’s going to be a long recovery, but you are okay.”

Carlos’ next breath is shaky and full of tears. “I’m not—I don’t want to leave you.”

God damn it just when he thinks he can’t cry anymore. “You’re not leaving me,” T.K. manages to choke out, squeezing his hand. “You’re not—you’re not dying. I promise baby. I promise.”

“I love you,” Carlos is crying in earnest now, like he has absolutely no control over his emotions. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” T.K. soothes, sliding the chair closer so he can run his hand up and down Carlos’ arm. “There’s no need for sorries.”

“I wasn’t safe.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Carlos swallows hard like it hurts him to do so. “Do you want some water?” T.K. asks and when Carlos nods he helps him sip a little bit.

When he’s done he licks his lips and meets T.K.’s eyes. “We can turn the thermostat up.”

T.K. chokes out a laugh, his eyes still damp with tears. “I don’t care about the damn thermostat.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Me neither.” T.K. grabs a tissue and uses it to gently wipe the tears from Carlos’ face. “We’ll bring in a neutral third party to deal with the thermostat setting. Paul can do it.”

Now Carlos manages a small huff of a laugh. “And we can use the throw pillows.”

“Thank god,” T.K. says, trying to lighten the mood. “I was ready to sign the divorce papers on that one.” He reaches up and brushes a hand through Carlos’ hair. “And I love your hair. I love all of you. All the time. Any way you are.”

“I love you too.” He shifts a little bit, trying to get more comfortable. “Was my mom here?”

“She’s in the chapel. I think she needed some time to herself,” T.K. says. “My dad was here too. He went to grab us some stuff. If there’s anything particular you want from home I can text him.”’

Carlos shakes his head. “Just you.”

“I’m here,” T.K. says immediately. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you.” Carlos closes his eyes and a shudder runs over his frame.

“Are you cold?” T.K. asks. He knows all too well that blood loss brings on a special type of chill. One that settles into your bones, that you can’t get rid of no matter how hard you try.

“A little,” Carlos says, shivering again and then letting out a small, pained sound as the movement jars his injured body. “Can you…can you hold me? Please?”

He shouldn’t. There’s barely any room in the hospital bed. And Carlos is covered in bandages and IV’s and the cast on his left leg. But honestly, T.K. needs some physical reassurance as much as his husband does right now.

So he carefully maneuvers himself into the bed, moving so slowly that it’s almost painful, tucking himself up against the railing so that his touch against Carlos is practically featherlight. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep,” he says quietly, running his fingers gently over Carlos’ stomach in a soothing motion. 

It always helps Carlos sleep to have his back rubbed, but this will have to do for today. He watches as the tension slips out of his husband’s body, sleep pulling him down and T.K. breathes out. They’ve survived. Again.

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello,

I’ve found myself entangled in a bit of a situation, and I’m hoping you can help me make a decision.

I am what is known as a boroboroton. I am, specifically, a twin sized pale coral futon, of quality make with silk innards, if you can believe it. I’m not a full set, I’m ashamed to say- lost my mattress - but I get by. I manifested some fifty years ago (roundabout the time of my mattress’s loss) and since then have changed owners a handful of times.

I like to learn new places thoroughly so I don’t often smother my sleepers right off, but I was getting bored and there was a shop down the street that did second hand and my owner was getting on in age, you know how these things go.

Anyway! Once I was in the shop I was purchased by a young man from the United States. It’s been quite the exciting move, to be honest- I don’t get slept on nearly as much as I used to save for the family cat, but I do get used for television and games, so I’ve come up to date on all sorts of media, and I’ve even gone outside for a picnic! It was lovely.

None of that’s why I’m writing, though. My new sleeper is, as I said, a young man. He was in Japan for a religious trip, a- a mission. He was a missionary, from- I believe they’re called Mormons? And to each his own and all that you have to take a long view of things when you’re half a sentient futon with a bent for murder, but I don’t think it’s good for him.

See, he keeps looking up information about leaving, and then deleting the searches. There’s another person who messages him often and I think it might be his lover. His lover’s name is Steven, which I am certain that these Mormons- and more importantly his parents- would not approve of. They keep making noise about sacred duties and marriage and temple sealing and someone named- Crystabeth? Crystal Meth? I can’t quite tell, I learned English rather on the fly.

It would of course be much easier for my sleeper to leave a religion that no longer fulfills him if his parents were out of the way and it wouldn’t be hard, just a nights’ work. I might be sold again or put in an attic but I have my ways and I’m an adventurous sort. Only I’d hate to interrupt all the researching he’s doing.

I could smother him, then he wouldn’t need to worry about what might happen if he left, but where would that leave Steven? Steven sends the loveliest late night texts.

Is it any of my business? Do I just let it lie? He’s been a good sleeper, brought me across a whole ocean AND looked up the best way to keep me clean! I hate that he’s so miserable.

For what it's worth, I think you're quite right in your assertion that your owner would be better off out from the clutches of people who are stifling his sexuality and pushing him to place duty to their church over his own freedom.

There is a reason many people consider Mormons to be a cult. They are a high-control group which expects – and enforces – an unhealthy degree of power over their members, using the threat of ostracisation and punishment to curtail their liberty. I'm not at all sure I would apply the otherwise admirable sentiment of “to each their own” to such a group.

With that said, I'm afraid I can't agree that leaving the church would necessarily be easier for your owner if his parents were to suffer some kind of tragic, nocturnal “accident”. Rather, I worry such an emotional blow would in fact leave him more vulnerable, and give others in the church leverage to use against him – the phrase “it's what they would have wanted” looms darkly upon the horizon.

Your suggestion of smothering your owner himself is also rather wanting in nuance. The goal here is to support him to make his own choices, not to remove the question of choice altogether. I can't help but wonder if your perspective might be a little limited by your form. To a man with a hammer, everything's a nail. To a sentient murder futon, everything's a potential futon murder.

Fortunately, it sounds as if he might be well on the way to making this difficult decision for himself – which is, after all, the only way this change can come about. If he's already doing his own research about leaving the church, and developing a support network separate from his church contacts, then it seems only a matter of time before he takes the plunge and leaves for good.

I'm afraid there's not much you can do right now to help him come to that point any faster. He needs to find his own path, and to find it in his own time. The best thing you can do for him right now is offer him just what you've always offered – a safe, supportive place where he can take a breath, research his options, and relax. The rest – so to speak – is up to him.

[saintsenara]

For sure and fair play, HP was a long project! But yeah, JKR fiercely defending her inconsistencies almost forces us to fiercely point them. Out of spite. I do get that many issues were out of Harry’s radar and understanding, but JKR trying to convince the audience through interviews that the wizarding world doesn’t have the same prejudices as the muggle world just makes me conclude that she must be herself incredibly unaware of the privileges herself and people in her circle possess. Plus the whole HIV parallel that just sounds so misguided and sours the text to me. Yet here I am! Love your blog xx

the lycanthropy-as-aids metaphor is extraordinary in how tone-deaf it is and it pisses me off...

especially because it doesn't make sense at any point in the story. the complete transformation of how house elves think of their enslavement between chamber of secrets [in which dobby mentions whisper-networks of politically-engaged elves decrying their treatment at the hands of wizards] and goblet of fire is really fucking irritating, but it has some slight defence in the narrative shift that the series undergoes after prisoner of azkaban from children's boarding-school literature to something approaching folkloric epic.

[that is, chamber of secrets needs to wrap up with dobby being freed, the malfoys getting their - comparatively benign - comeuppance, and everything being well, because children's stories always end with that everything back to normal vibe, and so the fact that harry has just learned that the wizarding world has institutionalised chattel slavery and been remarkably unbothered by that fact can be shelved by the genre conventions. after prisoner of azkaban, the books end more ambiguously and are more interlinked, as they start moving towards their big conclusion in deathly hallows, and are also darker in tone. and yet she decided to use this shift in tone... to make elves love being enslaved...]

which is to say, perhaps the lycanthropy-as-aids metaphor could be justified as a standalone plot device within prisoner of azkaban - since the reader does hear lupin explain not only the shame and stigma wizarding society's poor understanding of his condition causes, but also how the state's callous discrimination against werewolves impacts his ability to access healthcare, education, and employment - which then doesn't work after the series' narrative shift, when jkr wanted to introduce characters like fenrir greyback...

except it doesn't work even then! because at the end of prisoner of azkaban lupin turns into a rampaging monster who has a desperate, primal urge to eat children - and reveals his condition to be legitimately dangerous to an extent which entirely justifies why parents would feel uneasy about him being employed in a school.

[and - especially - being employed without dumbledore appearing to put any safeguards in place to keep both lupin and his students safe.]

one part of the tragedy of the aids crisis is baseless social stigma at an individual level, absolutely, and lupin - who is a nice [ish] man who doesn't meet the stereotypes wizards appear to have of untransformed werewolves - suffers from this.

but another is the way this stigma drove a state-sanctioned looking-the-other-way and refusing to act while the bodies piled up - something there is no parallel for in the series' worldbuilding around werewolves, not least because it tends to have a positive view of states and their institutions [state corruption is always located in individuals - fudge, umbridge - rather than in the structures which enable them, which are seen as fundamentally sound, for example] which i would imagine most people who know even a cursory amount about the official response to the aids crisis are unlikely to share...

and another is that - since hiv has a very, very long asymptomatic period - it was spreading without anyone knowing it existed for years, if not decades, before it burst into the public consciousness with death on wholesale scale. and then it continued to spread in terror and confusion - for years, you couldn't know if you had it until you started getting sick, and then, when you could access tests [if you could access tests], you were told it was a death sentence, and you would be unable to pinpoint when and by whom you'd been infected, and you would be unable to know how many people you might have infected in turn.

nothing about the series' presentation of lycanthropy corresponds to this.

but, with this said, i think there are two parallels between the conditions which could be interesting in the hands of someone who approached them with care.

the first is to see lupin's role as the series' one "good werewolf" as a mirror to the fact that public opinion became considerably more sympathetic to those living with and dying of hiv/aids when it began to emerge that people [white! "respectable"! heterosexual!] had been infected via blood transfusions and treatments for haemophilia. queer men and intravenous drug users could be dismissed as having brought their infections upon themselves... but not someone [white! "respectable"! heterosexual!] who went into hospital for a routine operation and came out slowly dying.

lupin - the son of a prominent civil servant [with all the class status that entails], bitten as a child through no fault of his own, hogwarts educated, connected to establishment figures like dumbledore - makes a great poster child for a milquetoast "werewolves aren't all bad" campaign which manages not to offend the state's sensibilities by asking it to stop demonising pretty much every other werewolf in history...

the second is to think about the generational divide.

in countries where access to appropriate medication is widespread [and that there are many countries where this isn't the case shouldn't be forgotten], hiv is easily treatable, easily manageable, easily rendered untransmissable, and easily preventable. the quality of life - and the life expectancy - of hiv positive people is now broadly equal to that of their hiv negative peers. the number of aids-related deaths worldwide annually has more than halved since 2010 and, in 2024, it is possible to say that virtually nobody who is newly diagnosed with hiv will go on to develop aids.

this is - sincerely - one of the single greatest achievements in the history of medicine. and it's completely changed how we think and talk about hiv, what it means to be diagnosed with it, what it means to live with it, and what it means to know [and to love, and to fuck] someone who has it.

if we imagine that there are similar advances in the treatment of lycanthropy - with the wolfsbane potion, which seems pretty bare-bones, replaced with something which made the impact of the werewolf's transformation even less severe [or which prevented it altogether] - then being a werewolf in the 2020s would mean something very different than it did in the 1980s.

and if - say - lupin is right, and teddy inherits his condition, thinking about how enormously different his experience being a werewolf might be from his father's [even at a very basic level - not having to turn down invitations based on the moon cycle, for example], and how he would come to understand himself and understand lupin through this different experience, would be a genuinely fascinating premise for a fic.

but not if jkr was writing it.

[mlmarint]

hello to the bridgerton fandom: here is my thoughts about what happened.

first, i am a bridgerton fan since 2015/16 when i read the books, i was active on facebook and twitter about it back then, so i am not even a little surprised how much hate we saw in the last hours.

i remember VERY clearly how much racism there was involving casting people of color back when the cast was announced. i stopped being active on the fandom, i left the facebook groups, i stopped following pages, all because i hated seeing so much hate and racism. i remember how much hate regé had to endure “because simon wasn’t black”. honestly, i remember being confused about how they would handle casting poc in a history drama like bridgerton, but i LOVED the ideia of embracing history inaccuracy like they did it with the tv show. we need more of that on media.

but back on regeé, he had to suffer with “not looking like simon” and then being absurdly sexualized int he show. AND before anyone says “oh it’s an explicit show everyone was sexualized”:

1 - rewatch simon’s scene and compare them with others characters

2 - read the comments and the way people (specifically white woman) said about him

3 - also, read an article about the sexualization of the black body by white people

so, no i don’t believe that regé left the show because “he wanted to try other things”. this fandom it’s so so disgusting and has been for a long time.

when i met john, i saw a lot of people saying he was ugly. he’s a handsome man.

people loved the idea of lesbian!eloise, but it had to be with a white woman. the moment michaela appeared on the scene most of you didn’t hate her because she wasn’t michael, most of you hated because she was a BLACK WOMAN and that made frannie bisexual. probably if michaela was white the amount of hate would be less then we have right now.

listen, i am a fan of the book and frannie’s it’s one of my favorites loosing only for eloise’s and daphne’s. i was SAD that i wouldn’t had michael on the screen, but i also like the idea of michaela. i know sometimes they have to change things on adaptations, and when they change it to people of color or make someone queer?? i love it even more. “oh but don’t change a character for it, create another one, i want this one”. he have millions of straight histories out there, let’s tell queer stories in shows with audiences like bridgerton. let’s make a history drama not be about two queer people that suffered and died without being able to show their love. let’s make this because it’s necessary and beautiful.

and its okay to be sad about “losing” michael, but ask yourself: why am i truly sad about it? at what point this sadness it’s becoming hate?

now, about the fact that “this changes frannie storie and i don’t like it”. it only changes a little bit and honestly they have a possibility of changing for even better.

i personally didn’t like francesca’s reaction when she met michaela. one very important thing about her history and biggest one it’s that she wasn’t attracted or in love with michael when she was with john, she learned it was okay to want and love michael after johns death and THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL. i really hope they don’t go towards a infidelity plot (cheating it’s not just kissing or sex, it can be a lot of things) john was her first love, she loved two people, but she loved and was happy with john. now, if that was just a bi panic moment? don’t care about this, fine, it’s okay and understandable. i just don’t want her having sex dreams about michaela while with john. please don’t do this.

that being said.

the whole “infertility plot” can be EVEN more powerful on her season. why? she would loose john’s baby. she wants to be a mother. if she stays with michaela? she won’t have a baby. later she can realize that she can adopt and there’s more than one way of being a mother, but that would be something to work towards it. she would have to abandon her dream (again, later realize she can still have it) in name of being in love and happy again. THAT IS SO POWERFUL.

the queen probably will give some permission to michaela be the earl, michaela could fight for the titles go to woman’s too. again, it’s not a historical accurate show.

in queen charlotte’s story the society had to deal with poc be included in society, in frannie story they’d have to heal with queer people be included on it.

frannie story can be so more powerful and beautiful and important.

yes bridgerton it’s a not perfect show, it’s not a 100% good adaptation, but it can be a powerful show. having poc and queer representation on it would be so more important than having your little story book become real on tv.

i don’t think that they’ll change eloise’s story specifically because we already met her *male* love interest, maybe she can have a fling with a woman next season, but honestly she needs to grow up before her season.

i don’t honestly know about benedict’s season. i don’t think they’ll genderbent sophie, but if they did it i would like it too. i honestly think they only made him bisexual (and frannie too) because they saw it the fans liked the idea.

BUT i think they can change hyacinth’s and gregory’s histories too. AND i would love to see it two. imagine hyacinth doing crime with a woman, IMAGINE gregory STEALING the GROOM from the altar (said groom having to be force to marry a woman despite being gay). i would love to see it.

honestly, i stoped hoping for book accuracy since anthony’s season and as much i didnt love it at the beginning, i learned to love it with time as a different and separate thing from the books.

you can be sad. just don’t spread hate. don’t be a racist. don’t be biphobic and/or queerphobic.

it’s so beautiful to have something like this happening in pride month don’t ruin another thing.

and if you want to “stop the show, it’s ruined for me” go ahead and do it. honestly? it won’t change a thing, people will still watch and it will still happen. queer people will continue to fight and love, and queer histories will continue to be told.

[princesssascha]

Summer Glow Up Action Plan (1/3 - Health)

As I mentioned in my previous post, we are going to have the best summer of our lives.

I was depressed for years, but during the summer, in just 2 months I became truly unrecognisable.

I did it unintentionally, but I believe I cracked the code to glowing up insanely fast. That is, if you're willing to get out of your comfort zone for a few weeks. But what's worse? Being uncomfortable for 2 months doing something that is good for you OR suffering for years? I'll let you answer that for yourself.

Thanks to my experience I made an action plan to make this summer even better and I'd love to do it together with YOU.

1. Mental Health

If your soul is shattered, your body will reflect that. By taking care of your mind you will automatically want to take care of yourself in every other way. Not because you think you're not pretty enough or smart enough, but because you deserve to be healthy and educated.

Get out of your comfort zone

Whatever that is. Last year I went abroad all by myself. I was so insecure about my English and I was soo socially awkward, but I did it. And when I tell you it was the most special feeling in the world. It was stressful at first, but I came back as a new person. I think it was the main factor that contributed to my mental glow up.

Obviously, you don't have to travel to a different country to glow up, but think about what's something you'd like to try that you're afraid to do. Maybe it's bungee jumping, going out to a restaurant alone, coming up to someone on the street. It is supposed to make you uncomfortable, it's called exposure therapy and it is really one of the best things that I have ever stumbled across.

Meditate

It's popular for a reason. Quiet your mind, control your breathing. You can also do yoga, as it requires the same things as meditation, however you also get physical exercise! Start with 5-10 minutes a day and work your way up to whatevers comfortable for you. You can try guided meditation/yoga for beginners.

Go outside

There's a reason why people tell you it's so important.

First, you get physical exercise, you get fit, you get healthy and everyone's happy.

Like actually happy. Physical exercise (the kind you enjoy ofc!) and being outdoors is proven to be good for your mental health. So go out. You can go somewhere crowded or somewhere isolated like a forest. You can take your pet on a walk if you have one.

Self development content

Especially YouTube, I get that some people can't get themselves to read books, but nowadays there are so many ways to educate ourselves. I will mention this topic again in this post, but I love watching YouTubers that post self development & mindset videos.

My favourite YouTubers are:

TheWizardLiz,

Mae Alice Suzuki,

Tam Kaur

If you like reading I recommend Brianna West, she's incredible.

Affirmations

I am such a fan of affirmations! If you feel bad about yourself start affirming the opposite? You feel insecure? "I am confident" etc. You don't want to affirm out loud. You can do it in your mind or listen to affirmation tapes. Even if you don't feel like it's doing anything KEEP PERSISTING! Your mind will conform.

2. Physical Health

This chapter focuses on health, not beauty, although they are connected. If you're unhealthy you won't be that attractive, because we find health attractive. So here I'll share more advice on being healthier rather than getting a sexier body. Healthy>sexy because HEALTH is SEXY!!

Vitamins and supplements

You can't be healthy if you have a vitamin deficiency. Get a blood test and start taking supplements for what you need.

Here's a little cheat sheet, although please do your own research to be safe and be mindful of what dosage you can ingest!!

Visit a doctor regularly!

If you are getting a disease it's important to diagnose it as soon as possible. In some cases it could save your life!

You need to go to your doctor at least once a year, but you should visit them at least twice a year and whenever you have any concerns. That includes a dentist, gynecologist, dermatologist etc. Although I understand not everyone has free healthcare and there are many reasons why it could be difficult for you to get there, at least go to one doctor once a year or when you suspect something is wrong.

Check up on yourself every month

Of course, you're not gonna go to the doctor every month, so it's important to do a little check up yourself every month. Here are a few things to keep in mind:

- what does your skin look like?

Are there any new moles? Maybe some spots? Just because you have a mole doesn't mean it's dangerous, but a mole could turn into skin cancer, so please be careful! Here are a few tips for recognising if a mole is actually a melanoma:

Melanoma is more likely the paler you are, but no matter what your skin color is you should always wear at least SPF30, although the higher the better. If sunscreens are too greasy for you or leave a whitecast I recommend Missha All-around safe block

Look at your skin, did anything strange appear? Something that wasn't there before? Don't forget about the inside of your mouth or between your toes. Although not very common, melanoma can also appear in your eye, in which case you need to contact a doctor ASAP!!

oral health

I don't think I need to tell you to wash your teeth, but I will still share some tips for those pretty teeth:

Oil pulling: get a spoonful of coconut oil and oil pull for 10-20 minutes. After that rinse your mouth thoroughly.

Wash your teeth for at least 2 minutes after every meal and after waking up, HOWEVER if you eat something acidic wait for at least 30 minutes until you wash your teeth. If you can't wash them rinse your mouth with water, but you should still wash them when you get home.

Use a tongue scraper! Like one of those steel/metal ones and scrape that bad boy. It is honestly disgusting how much bacteria sits on your tongue. There are also 2in1 tongue scrapers and flosses but it won't scrape anything off, so save your money. Also, only use flosses when necessary.

CHECK FOR CAVITIES!!

Seriously! I don't think it needs any explanation. Open your mouth and show your teeth. Look at how they look. If there's anything concerning contact your dentist.

skincare

Although it also suits the beauty part, what we find beautiful is just healthy. No skin conditions, clear glowy skin. What skin concerns do you have? Acne, hyperpigmentation, redness etc. Visit a dermatologist or find some skincare yourself, although do it carefully. Just because something is trendy doesn't mean it's good. Everyone's skin is different, so be mindful.

Also, there are different kinds of pimples, so check which types you have and how you can heal them. You can have just one or multiple kinds.

One universal thing: SPF! CANT STRESS THIS ENOUGH!

haircare

Just like with skincare, healthy hair is what we find beautiful. That's why I emphasize health so much. If you're healthy you are beautiful.

I won't talk about styling right now as it has nothing to do with health, but haircare is 80% of the job.

Is your hair greasy or dry? Keep in mind it can be both, your scalp could be greasy but your ends could be dry. Do you have thick hair or thin hair? Curly or straight? If you bleached your hair it means your hair is damaged (because it's dead), but your hair can be damaged nonetheless, so think about what you need and find products that were made for your concerns.

Learn how to wash your hair correctly. A lot of you guys don't know how to do it. Just because you rub shampoo on your head doesn't mean you're doing it right. And when you're not it could do more harm than good. I recommend theblowoutprofessor on YouTube, he explains it well.

Healthy eating

This is a pretty obvious one so I won't get into details, however if you guys want me to make a post dedicated to healthy eating lemme know in the comments!

Eat veggies and fruits, limit Ur sugar intake. Don't starve yourself, you'll have uncontrollable cravings and you'll get it all back.

move your body

Although good for you both mentally and physically, it's important to choose something you like. Here are my favourite forms of physical activity:

Dancing,

Yoga,

Pilates,

Walking,

Horse riding.

If you don't have a favourite right now, experiment. It doesn't have to be expensive, there are many sports that you can do at home with no equipment.

Try to move for at least 30 minutes/day.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Thank you for your consistently detailed analysis and speculation which have frequently calmed me down when I was concerned about the direction of the show. As long time VC fan, I'm not gonna lie, this show has often left me heartbroken- and not in a good way. I've been trying to get through it in hopes when we will finally get to see the real Lestat. But honestly, for me, if the drop is left in, than the character is done. There is no way to redeem him. And it just hurts because not only is it something that Lestat would never do to Louis, but it's something that was actually done to *him*. He suffered for years from that fall and it was one of the main reasons he went in the ground. It's important for his character development. I just don't understand the justification for leaving it as is especially since it isn't canon. I don't think I can take another 2+ years of Lestat being called an evil domestic abuser. How can audiences be expected to root for him. They won't. He will be condemned as the monster who dropped his partner from the stratosphere. Leaving it also ruins the L+L QotD flight. I just don't see the point in irrevocably damaging the main protagonist of the entire story. I'm heartbroken and furious. Please, help me understand.

*sighs* (Sending you a big hug.)

So. Emotions seem to be very high on this already, and it hasn't even aired yet. I'm just pointing that out because... what we have right now is hearsay - maybe directly, maybe over a few people in the middle... but ultimately we haven't watched it yet, right? Other people have. Other people, with their own understanding, and their own takes.

And yes, it was done to him. Exactly. And as just said in another ask, he has not told his side of the story yet. The trial, so also that part of it... will definitely be scripted. And we already know that what we were shown... cannot be trusted. Not a 100%.

Let's watch first and then judge, please.

Because so far this show has excelled at elevating the source material.

Which is not to say that they cannot make mistakes, obviously. And who knows, maybe I'll be disappointed AF after. We'll see.

But... there's a reason why they revisit all that. There's a reason. And, given that we're segueing into s3... and therefore Lestat's story?

I don't know how they re-contextualize it. I don't. But I think we need to see the bigger picture - and that won't be done by s2. (And I have a feeling like it might not even be done by s3...)

IF they follow the book IWTV here... then Lestat will testify against Louis and Claudia at the trial, seemingly out of revenge (but actually under duress), he will witness her burn, he will have the yellow dress. Louis and Armand will break up. Lestat and Louis will meet in the later contested NOLA meeting. Louis will end up alone at the end of the novel.

I don't know how the revisit fits with the trial. You probably know my feelings wrt the diary and the pages etc but it seems they are not used as heavily as anticipated.

IDK. Given the in-universe publication of the book IWTV I think they will follow the beats above - and episode 5, and the drop, are likely part of the accusation then.

Now, we know that it will be revealed later that this was done with manipulation and torture. That it was Lestat who was thrown off the tower later, and who needed decades to heal. Which fits with the "mind call" in 2x05, doesn't it.

IDK. I just want to point out that even if... EVEN IF THAT DROP STAYS FOR NOW - there is a lot more to it and they have already hinted at that.

So.

Yes, I can very well do without another 2 years of shit-show by some people, especially those unwilling to take the step back for the bigger picture. But ... I have become much, much better at blocking.

And I am not going to let them take away my joy. Especially... ESPECIALLY that we know - WE KNOW - that TVL is up in s3. They already confirmed that.

Don't let an unfinished puzzle or some asshats take your joy either, dear.

[valentine-cafe]

Another (probably dark inducing) idea for the 209s.

So... Imagine that the reader is as much as they know are just a totaly normal worker/assistant/"bring me coffee" person. But one day they notice that their body is started to turn invisible.

But for now it's only partial and places they can cover, like upper parts of the limbs, torso, and maybe feet since its in the shooe. (Like if they pulled up their shleev there would be a big pach of nothing.)

When they realised what's going on they filled the form to quit but there is still that little time before they can actually not come anymore. And so they are super paranoid about this stuff spreading because if the bosses notice it...

It way already weird for their collegues that they wear more clothes than before, but they lied about having some condition that makes them feel more cold an that passed.

But just a little before they could be looking for another place the boss calls them...

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ verse 209 rishen & jìngyí

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍪 ꒱ spider monster x reader, mantis monster x reader, moth monster x reader, mad scientist x reader, villains x reader, yandere x reader, cw: biting and marking, blood mention ⊹ ۪ ࣪

Oh Rishen would be the first one to call for you, his voice almost echoing through the hallway as he approached you slowly. heels clacking against the marble floors. leaving the anxiety rising rapidly.

you’d look over your shoulder very discreetly with the one half of your face that wasn’t slowly becoming invisible and you swallow hard, clearing your throat and smiling at the man approaching you.

but dread runs deep. when you hear the voice of your other boss calling for you on the other end of the hallway. The end that of course, faced you directly.

“Mr. Herrera, Dr. Herrera — what can I do for you?” you stammer quietly, with an attempt to hide away as much as possible. they approach you slowly, the pace of walk almost turning into a stalk.

“We’ve been getting a few concerned notices from some of your co-workers, dear, dressing a little too much in summer. people are worried you are going to give yourself a heatstroke.” Rishen would mumble, reaching out to you and placing a hand on your shoulder.

you don’t move, you don’t dare move. If you move, who knows what will happen — are they both onto you? or are they simply here out of concern. No not when it is the both of them. They don’t do that.

They only do that when. . .

“And though you suffer from this condition of yours, this was never stated when you first signed in.” Jìngyí hummed out and stood close to you, caging you between the wall, Rishen and him.

“I don’t know what you are entailing Dr. Herrera, I am simply dressing for a condition I’ve recently developed, that is all — “

“Then why have you not come by the clinic?” He inquires, with a brow raised and a dissatisfied expression on his face.

“Now let us not mention the abrupt notice that you no longer wish to work here, what could we do to make your experiences here better hm?” Rishen asks on the side, tilting his head and tightening the grasp on your shoulder.

“I think you’re hiding something else.” He whispers, maroon eyes gliding down to your neck. Nothing, there is nothing.

You understand now — he had tried to shift the fabric of your shirt to see any speck of skin you would use to show.

“Oh dear, would you look at that. Is that not something, we should sit down and talk about a bit more. In the clinic?”

[greenqueenhightower]

I can understand why people like Rhaenyra. I can understand why Alicent isn't to everyone's taste. I still don't understand how she is so hated for behaving like a human considering the gaslighting and abuse she's been through, and how she has much less free agency than Rhaenyra. It was reading through the horrific and vitriolic extreme takes on Alicent that made me side with her. And something about Rhaenyra and her mean diehards just remind me so much of white feminism. I feel like it's no coincidence I see way more WoC tending to sympathize with Alicent, as a WoC myself. The gaslighting and watching someone else consistently get away with things you wouldn't while being trapped in a cage is all too relatable. The rules dont apply to Rhaenyra and Rhaenyra only. And seeing Rhaenyra being the only one in the narrative made to look extra sympathetic (like the double birth scenes, as if all births aren't horrific and like Alicent didn't give birth even younger too). I also hate how despite their efforts in diverse casting, black actors are just backdrops or tools to make Rhaenyra and TB look better and how they're disposable to move the plot forward for her. This matter has been brought up in the TG subreddit thank God I was not the only one who saw that. Now it seems like they're even butchering B&C to absolve TB. 🙂🙃 Girl I am not ready for the blind Rhaenyra dickriding and Alicent victim blaming to come this season. You'll know it'll be misogyny and double standards all around. The suffering Alicent endured in Season 1 will be even more disregarded.

Hi anon! 💚

Alicent isn't to everyone's taste because to understand her character, motivations, and aspirations, one needs to take the whole show as context, instead of some stand-alone scenes that provide dissatisfaction or lack the "wow"/"badass" factor that the average got/hotd viewer is used to.

I understand how Rhaenyra's character appeals to people because she is the female Targaryen heir, desires the best for her children, and is determined to honor her cause and her late father's wishes to serve the realm. Rhaenyra believes so much in herself; Alicent doesn't. Rhaenyra's overconfidence, her "flouting to do as she pleases" is what is so attractive to a lot of viewers, me included, because, well, she doesn't give a damn. She can go against the conventions of her time because she has already entered the game in a good battle formation, has the means, and is ready to play it (I'm trying to go for a chess analogy here as we saw in the promo, bear with me).

Alicent on the other hand, has entered the game as a foreigner. She did not wish this, she has no historical ties to rulership, no dragon blood to base her confidence on, and no pride in taming and riding wild beasts. She is common as Rhaenyra is exotic. What Alicent has and brings to the game is "honor, duty, sacrifice." These values alone make Alicent compelling and intriguing because they are very subtle qualities and principles that one needs to notice to comprehend her character. They are not as easily identifiable as riding a dragon or slicing a wild boar.

Yet they are equally powerful, because as Rhaenyra plays the game in the open field, being free to make her own decisions, unstoppable in always getting what she wants and being able to claim it herself, Alicent plays the game behind closed doors, in septs, praying to the seven, following directions, seeking council, and moving strategically. Rhaenyra's battle is more visually impactful, but Alicent's is equally moving if one cares to observe and understand it properly.

Therefore, what you are saying about WoC standing by Alicent makes perfect sense because the motivations and experiences as well as the feeling of always having to try twice as hard to achieve what is simply given to others is a point of connection for WoC.

You also very poignantly highlight the show's "humanization" of Rhaenyra through two birth scenes, because again, she is this exotic being whom the audience loves to aspire to, but we must also not forget that she is special while also being human. Alicent's suffering in S1 very much humanizes her in my eyes and is precisely also what distinguishes her from a commoner. She becomes a strong woman who doesn’t shy away in the fear of danger, learns to hold her head high and pushes forward the interests of herself and her children. The hate Alicent receives is uncalled for, and it stems from a misreading of her character, despite being the most interesting character in hotd in my opinion.

I’m glad you decided to stan Alicent after reading all the horrific takes about her! There are so many people in the fandom who want to vilify her, but there are also many who totally connect to her and sympathize with her character, like queer people, WoC, etc.

I didn’t like what the show did with black characters in s1 either. They served mostly as props and had brutal deaths. For S2, it does seem as if the show will want to downgrade the events of B&C and continue emphasize the narrative of Rhaenyra’s superiority (and the Greens and Alicent will be blamed and hated a lot this season), but I honestly stopped reading leaks and spoilers because they affect me a lot. I’d rather wait and see what the producers decide to do with their portrayal and then comment on the events. I’m so scared about B&C though and how this will affect the Greens’ arc and their perception by the public, but again, I’ll be standing by Alicent’s side till the end lol. 💚

[ladymelisande]

The weirdest thing to me about the 'retcon' around The Vampire Chronicles with the differences between IWTV and TVL is that... I never considered it a retcon.

Like, beyond the show, I read the first book when I was a teen and I never read Louis as this innocent housewife that was trapped the Evil Lestat because just the way Louis talked was contradictory and... questionable. Maybe Rice didn't intend it, but the framing of the book itself calls to contradiction. Because Louis is not narrating from his head, he is telling the story to a near mute party that believes absolutely everything he says and never questions him.

And Louis... He is dripping resentment, like you can literally have a drinking game of how many times he says he despised Lestat until we get to the second part and he starts to mellow a little. Also, the snobbish way he talks doesn't exactly help his case, the excuses he gives of why he kept Lestat around are so flimsy that they don't make sense if they didn't have an actual relationship. He says Lestat 'kept him prisoner' but at the same time he says he held all the money and Lestat was basically a pauper. He says later that he regrets to have put such expectations on Lestat, and yeah, he did like... They have about two conversations and in that time, Louis convinced himself that Lestat had to know the secrets of the universe and someone that had the answers to his Catholic crisis and was disappointed to discover he was... a person. After that he doesn't bother to engage with Lestat for anything except nagging him about said questions and why isn't he as tortured as Louis is.

Basically 'how dare you to not be like me'.

That's why I don't feel that the switch between IWTV Lestat and TVL Lestat is such a jarring thing, because Louis never bothered to know Lestat. And yes, okay, Lestat was pretty secretive with him, but aside from the vampire lore stuff, Louis never bothered on wanting to know him as a person because he was too busy being angry that Lestat wasn't suffering the same way as he did. They didn't have some friendly meeting in the book, it was bite, conversation, the thing with the foreman and boom, vampire. After that Louis is a whole focus of concentration is about Discovering About the Meaning of Things™ and if you tell me that in 65 years together he didn't know Lestat liked freaking Shakespeare (as he hilariously mentions in a passage), I would totally believe you.

Louis says himself he wanted a teacher, a guide, some kind of father/priest figure that could ease his guilt about his brother's death. Lestat wanted a partner/a lover. They were in completely different positions during the IWTV book.

And I am not saying that Lestat is innocent because he himself doesn't deny his temper or his behaviour towards Louis or Claudia... But later in the series we have Antoine's POV saying Lestat was afraid of angering Louis because he might go and take Claudia with him. And you know what? I can totally believe Louis did that, because he was also threatening with kicking out Lestat/leaving in IWTV but he framed differently, he tried to frame himself as the terrified party... While also saying he had all this economic and social advantage against the 'peasant' that was Lestat.

Like? Contradiction here, contradiction there. That's why I never had a problem seeing Louis as a liar.