#anon. who are you. what are you. why do you love harming people. this hurts me specifically.

[iceandpeaches]

hi idk if you know the summer i turned pretty but there’s a scene where a character says “My chest physically hurts not being able to tell her how. much I love her” and I can just imagine luke being in love with a poseidon!daughter where her dad doesn’t approve of anyone for her. He tells percy about his chest hurting and will catch glimpses of Luke actually placing a hand on his chest whenever percy’s sister is around or walks away 😫😫😫 bonus if he actually PRAYS to poseidon angst but fluff ughhh

oh anon you cooked… the praying to poseidon part made my own chest hurt hurt.. i'm kinda familiar with tsitp but i never watched it.. sorry this is kinda long!! i hope this was good🙈🙈🙈

my chest hurts; luke castellan

for years, luke had been hopelessly in love with you. from the moment you step foot at camp after being attacked, he knew he wouldn’t love anybody other than you. he was excited he could spend time with you while you were still unclaimed, but upset when you were claimed by poseidon. he couldn’t spend every moment with you anymore, by your side, your best friend. 

he was devasted that he couldn’t see you from the moment he woke up till the moment he fell asleep. with you now residing in the quiet and slightly eery poseidon cabin, you were only part of his dreams if the gods allowed it.

and with poseidon being your father, he wanted to be in your life. which meant that with you and percy, he wanted to keep his children safe from the world and people that could harm you. which is why, poseidon declared to deny any boy who asked for his blessing to date you. upon hearing such, luke never gave up hope. he’d find a way to persuade your father, somehow. 

luke headed to your cabin to look for you, walking in since he knew it would be open. it wasn’t like there were hundreds of kids running in and out all day. 

“hey y/n– oh. is she not here?”

luke glanced down at your younger brother, sat by the body of water that sat in the middle of your cabin. poseidon kids. 

“yeah she’s.. mad at me right now. she went for a swim.”

“oh. then i’ll wait for her to come back.”

luke sat by percy, fingers tapping against the area that held a pool of water. he got bored after a while, turning to percy he stared out into the opening of the cabin door. 

“hey percy.. could i tell you something?”

“yeah, what’s up?”

“it’s just.. i want to be with y/n. i think about her all the time. and it hurts, like my chest physically hurts. to be able to tell her that i’m in love with her.”

luke gripped his shirt, thinking about every moment you smiled at him, laughed at his jokes, your eyes lighting up everytime you mention something about the water or going for a late night swim, every hug, everything you did. there was something so special about you, and he wanted you to know how special you were to him. percy watched as his friend’s grip tightened on a portion of his clothing, brows creased into a frown. 

an hour or so passed, and you’d come back from your cool off swim. luke’s lips curled into a gentle smile, noticing that your hair was wet which emphasised the curls in your hair. your expression brightened upon seeing luke, your towel wrapped around your shoulders.

“luke! what are you doing here?”

“well, you’re late.”

“to?”

“bracelet making with the hermes cabin.. duh! only the best cabin ever.”

you refrained from laughing, patting him on the back. you nod in acknowledgment, grabbing a fresh camp tee and a pair of shorts to slip into running toward the bathrooms to go change. luke smiled, feeling pressure in his chest again which caused him to grip his shirt as he followed behind you. 

for the next few days, luke’s chest hurt more than it usually did. for after every interaction with you, he had to take a moment to himself to breathe it out. several times percy had caught him with a hand on his chest whenever you’d walk away to tend to another camper’s needs. luke could’ve sworn he felt raindrops and thunder every now and then, hoping it wasn’t poseidon angry at him or something. 

luke tossed and turned in bed, the thought of you still fresh in his mind. you never left his mind, all he thought about was you. he slipped out of his bunk, then out a window to find a spot to burn an offering – not to his father, but yours. he lit a match, putting in into his tin can then burning away a piece of bread he had wanted to finish off in the morning which he’d miss most.

he watched the bread burn, tossing it into the small tin can. he fiddled with the drawstring of his hoodie, thinking of what he’d like to say as a prayer to your father.

“hi mr poseidon. i am luke castellan. son of.. hermes. i.. i don’t know how to explain this.”

he fumbled with his words, his mind incapable of configuring sentences he would’ve formerly said to the poseidon. it was messing with his brain. 

“i like your daughter. and i know that, you’d want her to have a guy good enough for her. i may not be that guy but.. i was hoping.. am i saying that right? uh.. i’m seeking for your blessing to, give me a shot?”

“i want to be that guy for her. i’ll take care of your daughter with my life, i’ll be there for her when no one else can. i promise, sir. i’ll love her, comfort her, take her side no matter what…”

he gulped, the flame dancing as he spoke. he wasn’t sure if poseidon would hear into his concerns, but it was worth trying. he hesitated to seal his promise, but he loved you. he’d do anything for you.

“sir, i’ll take good care of her. i promise.”

it almost sounded too desperate. luke blew out the flame, heading back to his cabin to not get caught by harpies. his heartfelt confession made his burden slightly lighter, actually being able to sleep this time.

"luke castellan, son of hermes. i've heard your prayer."

huh? who was that? luke opened his eyes, seeing the god of the seas in front of him. he swallowed the lump in his throat, bowing down only to feel poseidon's hand on his shoulder.

"will you keep to your promise? everything you said?"

luke glanced up at the god, nodding. yes. everything he said in his prayer. he'd keep to his promise. poseidon was staring him down, luke slightly intimidated by the death glare the god was giving him. the god's eyes reminded him of your eyes, every wave reflected in them.

"yes, sir. i will keep to my promise."

"how will i know for sure?"

huh? luke thought he'd made it clear with his intentions. but then he remembered – poseidon would deny him. poseidon would've never cared what luke had said in prayer, poseidon already deemed him unfit (like any other man) to date his daughter.

"but si–"

"you already know what i'm going to say, luke castellan."

"sir plea–"

luke woke up sweating. he looked around as he caught his breath, was that real? or was that all a dream? did poseidon really visit him in his dream? his chest hurt. his chest ached. his chest felt it was burning. for all he knew, he might've just lost his chance to love you. he didn't know if he could leave his cabin when morning came, he just wanted to disappear.

[thighguys]

okay. i wasn't going to make my own post about the racism in the phandom being brought to light rn because as a white westerner i don't want to like, clog up everyone's feed with my unqualified opinions and take away from the voices of pocs who are much more knowledgeable about this than me, but i just want to let all of my mutuals know right now that this is insane. racism IS a problem in the phandom, and it definitely should be brought to light so that we can make changes, and everyone who is sending anon hate or being annoyed or downright mad about this are actively causing harm to so many fantastic people in the phandom. im honestly gonna start unfollowing people who i dont see interacting with posts about this because holy shit i genuinely dont know if you guys are just ignoring it or if you are the ones calling my friends slurs on anon and telling them to shut up about their experiences being hurt in the phandom both by phannies and by dnp themselves.

listen guys. i get it. i was upset too about all this at first because the phandom is the place i go to relax and get away from politics and bad stuff happening. i didn't want all the "bad vibes" coming into my calmest space when the rest of the world already has bad enough vibes. but then i realized- i dont want to be comfortable in a space that excludes and harms so many of my friends!!! if something is hurting people i care about, you better fucking believe that i am gonna raise my voice to help people hear them better!! even if it doesn't affect you directly, just look at the people who are being hurt by this vitriol. shoutout to absolute icons @demonqueenart and @dapg-otmebytheballs for helping me realize all this and change my opinions early on.

listen guys. we can't ignore this. what we can do is try and amplify pocs voices so that maybe we can expose the truth of the racism that happens all the time here and hopefully allow both us and dnp to change for the better. i know i already have, and im so grateful to the people who brought it to my attention because as a white westerner i genuinely had no idea this was happening or even that dnps words were offensive. which is exactly why we need to spread this message around even more!! racism exists!! it hurts people!! and maybe we can help to change it!! so honestly, why wouldn't we take this chance to make our community a safer and happier place for EVERYONE??

lastly, to my poc mutuals and followers: im here for you guys. tag me in your posts and i will reblog them. message me about your frustrations. anything i can do to help, i will do it. i care about this and im not gonna stay silent about it like i originally wanted to. i love you guys and i hope we can band together to grow as a fandom and as a community 💖💖

[yuff7e]

hi! Can I pls request a one shot of reader comforting the hashira abt their biggest insecurity? Also, can reader pls be gn? Thank you! I love ur work!!!!!

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ comforting the hashira about their biggest insecurity’s !! ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ headcanons + small fic(s) / fluff (??) / angst / mentiones of violence / mentions of self-hatred / TW !!

gender neutral

hiya anon !! thanks so much for requesting this !! it’s so creative, and definitely put me to work (haha) !! i love requests like these where it’s about multiple people :) anywho, enjoy !! <3

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

₊˚ପ⊹ gyomei himejema !!

- his biggest insecurity would be his immense strength

- hey, who wouldn’t like being strong and being able to beat up anyone in their path ?

- gyomei.

- we all know he’s an extremely kind hearted man, and hates hurting other living beings

- so imagine walking in on him one day, sitting on his knees - silently crying to himself

—

“gyomei? are you alright?!” you rush over to his side and he just sits there, looking into space. you run a hand over his arm in an attempt to get him to look at you, he turns his head in your direction - hot white tears spilling out of his eyes.

“ah, [name]. hello.” he speaks, you stare at his state and ask him what’s wrong - he stays quiet. you question him again, letting him know you wouldn’t judge him. he turns his head forward and opens his mouth to speak - “my.. strength. i am capable of many things, harming people. i do not wish that upon anyone.”

you smooth a hand over his forearm, reaching the beads he was holding in his hands. “gyomei, you are not a bad person. you have not hurt anyone, we’re hashira for a reason. we save people.” - “but demons used to be people too, before muzan kibutsuji - they had a life just like us.” you sigh at his words.

“gyomei, they were the people we couldn’t save. we cannot save everyone, but - saving a few is enough.” his white eyes flick downward toward the floor, blinking slowly. “i suppose. thank you, [name].”

₊˚ପ⊹ tengen uzui !!

- his biggest insecurity would be his inferiority complex

- he shows insecurities toward his fellow hashira, worrying he will never be as great as them.

- because of this, he locks himself away some days and sits training on his own terms

- abusing his mental and physical state immensely.

- imagine walking in on him as he trains himself to his knees, collapsing over and breathing heavy - clearly upset.

—

“tengen?! what are you doing?” you ask, standing in the doorway of his room - he glances back at you. “[name]? what are you doing in here?” he strains, sitting up - placing a hand on his knee. “do you need help?” you walk toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder and he looks back at you once more.

“no, im fine. thanks though.” - “tengen.” he blinks, holding his sword in a shaky hand - “do i look strong?” you raise your eyebrows at his question, “what do you mean? of course you do, do you not think that?” his gaze stiffens when you say that. noticing his stiff demeanor you glance down at his hands, he’s shaking.

“tengen, your abusing your power too much. you need to take a break, that’s why we have a schedule.” - “i don’t feel strong..” he whispers and your eyes widen at his response, “what? seriously? tengen, you are.” you brush your hand against his in a comforting manner, and he smiles weakly.

“thank you, [name]. sorry for this, maybe i do need to take a break!” - “yeah, i think you do.”

₊˚ପ⊹ kyojuro rengoku !!

- his biggest insecurity would be his unwavering will

- the way he wants to protect those weaker than him eats at his brain every night

- thinking of the people he couldn’t save, the people he couldn’t get to in time

- people suffered, because he couldn’t save them.

- imagine waking up and seeing him standing outside, looking at the moon with tears prickling his eyes at his thoughts.

—

“rengoku, are you okay?” you ask, walking up behind him as he stares at the moon somberly. he turns to the sound of your voice, blinking away his tears. “[name]! hello!” he shakes off his sadness quickly once he sees your face in order to hide it.

you notice this, and look at him sadly - “rengoku, what are you doing out here? it’s night..” - “sorry [name], i was just thinking.” he looks up at the moon again, sighing. “don’t apologize, is something bothering you? you can talk to me.”

he turns toward you once more at your reply, “it’s just.. all of the people i couldn’t save! suffering.” you watch him intently as he confesses his feelings, looking into his deep golden eyes. “rengoku, you have saved more people than i can count. more people than i have, that’s such an amazing thing.”

he smiles at your words, his sadness fading as you compliment him. his thoughts of not being able to save some people will never leave his brain, but knowing he’s saved just a few is more than enough for him. “thank you [name]! i don’t know what id do without someone like you!”

₊˚ପ⊹ sanemi shinazugawa !!

- his biggest insecurity would be his appearance

- having to cut himself to intoxicate demons is not anything short of brave.

- but it takes a toll on his self esteem, the cuts across his face, tummy, arms, etc.

- he didn’t really think about his looks after he saw what demons looked like, but it still eats away at him sometimes.

- imagine seeing him training and glancing in a window, his expression changing into an aggressive one at his own image - saying things how he looks disgusting, hideous, etc.

—

“sanemi! don’t say things like that!” you yell, running towards him. you knew sanemi quite well, especially since he was one of the most.. unique looking hashiras.

“[name]?! what the hell do you know? leave me alone.” he continues his training, turning away from you. “i heard what you said, and that’s untrue! you’re perfect! don’t say those things about yourself.” he stiffens at your confession but doesn’t stop training.

“what the hell? so you’re an eavesdropper? now scram!” he slashes one of the dummies heads clean off, you watch as his aggressive demeanor falters for a second after he finishes. “it’s not true, sanemi.”

he stays quiet, looking at the dummy - his face doesn’t change but you see him tightening his grip on his sword. “thanks [name].”

₊˚ପ⊹ giyu tomioka !!

- his biggest insecurity would also be his inferiority complex

- like tengen, he also feels inferior towards the other hashiras

- hence why he says he’s “different” than the rest of them.

- he isolates himself from the others quite frequently, and you begin to worry for him.

- imagine checking up on him and he’s laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling..

—

“giyu.. how are you doing?” you trot towards his bed, kneeling down. you’ve known giyu for a while, having a steady relationship - which has given him time to trust you. he stares for a bit before replying, “i’m tired today, i’ll get up soon.”

you look at him softly, placing a hand on his arm and he glances towards you - “i’m fine.” - “you’re not.” he looks back up toward the ceiling, he looks ill. “giyu, what happened? talk to me.” you squeeze his arm gently and he sits himself up, “nothing, [name]. i’m fine, just tired.”

you wait there, silent. you knew if you waited he’d eventually cave and tell you what’s wrong, and so he did. “i am different from the others, i am not like them.” - “what are you talking about? you’re as equal if not superior to the other hashiras. at least you are to me.” you smile at him, comforting his thoughts.

he sends you a weak grin before dropping it, “thank you, [name]. i will be fine, i promise.” - “i believe you, and please giyu - tell me if something is bothering you. i want to be here for you.”

₊˚ପ⊹ mitsuri kanroji !!

- her biggest insecurity would be her fear of rejection

- she’s always been concerned with the way she looks, acts, and how she appears to others.

- suppressing her true feelings, emotions, and personality in order to fit in.

- her being concerned that no one wants to marry her is a big deal to her, and it eats away at her constantly

- imagine you’re hanging out with her, and she asks you a question that makes you question her state of mind..

—

“[name], do you think anyone would want to marry me? be honest!” she asks, her cheeks burning - waiting for your reply. you look at her with wide eyes, chuckling at her question. “what do you mean? of course someone would want to marry you.” - “you’re not just saying that, right?”

looking into her eyes you can sense her lacking self esteem, you ask her why she feels like that and why is she asking you such a question? she falls silent, clutching onto her skirt - “it’s just.. what if i get rejected? i want to fit in y’know!” she confesses, tears prickling at her inner corners and you quickly go to console her.

“mitsuri! don’t be stupid, anyone would want to marry you! honest. listen, if i could marry you i would in a heartbeat! you’re the best person i’ve ever met.” she stares at you, then she begins to smile. “thank you so much [name]!! i just want to live happily ever after with someone.. y’know what i mean?!”

“yeah, i do.”

₊˚ପ⊹ obani iguro !!

- obani has many insecurities, but his biggest ones would have to be his appearance and background.

- growing up, the clan he was in never made him feel good enough. torturing him beyond repair.

- he’s grown up feeling worthless, and the scars across his mouth state just that.

- he can’t even look in the mirror without disgust, nor have friendships & relationships where he doesn’t feel inferior

- imagine seeing him without his mask on for the first time, and he freaks out - telling you how sorry he is for you to have witnessed something so horrific…

—

“[name]! sorry! i—“ he stutters, quickly reaching for his mask to wrap around his mouth - you just stare at him. “obani.. you look..” he cuts you off, clearly panicking.

“no, i know what you’re going to say. you don’t have to tell me twice, i know how disgusting i look.” you gasp at his words, there’s no way he just said that about himself. “obani, no! i wasn’t going to say that! you look great.. how can you ever say that about yourself?” you hurry over toward him, grabbing ahold of one of his hands.

“you don’t think so?..” he whispers, looking back at you with his yellow and blue eyes. “yes obani, you look amazing! i’m glad i saw you, now i really know what my friend looks like… and it looks great.” he smiles a little at your words, a pink hue laminating his cheeks out of slight embarrassment.

“thank you, [name].”

₊˚ପ⊹ muichiro tokito !!

- his biggest insecurity would be his forgetfulness

- i mean of course he would probably forget that insecurity because he forgets everything… however

- there are days when his mind is more clear, and he realizes all of the things he could achieve if he was always like that

- some days he wishes to himself to give him the ability to remember things more clearly, his friends, his things, his family.

- imagine finding him one day, seemingly upset over something you weren’t too familiar with until now …

—

“muichiro! hello!” you jog toward the boy who’s kneeled down on the ground, staring into the grass “hello? muichiro what are you doing?” you place your hands on your knees as you try to get a good look at his face, his cheeks were flushed and wet.

“muichiro? hey are you okay? talk to me.” you kneel down beside him and shake his shoulder a little, causing him to look at you. “huh? oh, hello. who..” he trails off, looking into your face - you look back at him sadly, he had forgotten you.

“muichiro it’s me, [name]. what are you doing? are you alright?” you ask, pulling your hand away from him and placing it onto your lap. “uh, i don’t know. i can’t remember.” he looks upset again, suddenly - a tear rolls down his cheek. “muichiro!”

“sorry, i just can’t remember.” he coils over and wipes a hand against his eyes, “i don’t know why i can’t remember.” - “muichiro it’s okay, please don’t cry. you’ll be alright, you’re here with me.” you smile at him and he looks up at you, his eyes glisten.

“i suppose, uh— sorry what was i talking about again?”

₊˚ପ⊹ shinobu kocho !!

- her biggest insecurity would also be an inferiority complex

- she’s extremely insecure of her physical body, and how she’s not as strong as the other pillars.

- she curses herself for not developing further, and wishes she could be as physically strong as the others …

- it eats away at her confidence and self esteem, locking herself away from the others wasn’t uncommon

- imagine having a deep conversation with her, and she admits to feeling ashamed of her physical body to you…

—

“what? you really think that?” you gawk, and she nods. “i’m quite ashamed, really. i wish i was as physically capable as the others… i trust you with this knowledge, [name]. do you think so too?” she looks into your eyes and you can’t help but feel your heart silently breaking for her.

“no, i don’t. that’s absurd that you think that! you’re quite beautiful! why would you ever think that about yourself? you are just as capable as the others.” she smiles sadly at your words, looking down into her lap. “i suppose.” she sighs.

“don’t beat yourself up for it, seriously. i can tell you one thing, i know for certain you’re smarter than most of the hashiras here..” you laugh a little at your own comment and she does too.

“thank you, [name]. that really makes me feel better, you’re a great person. i’m happy to have you in my life.”

—

that’s it! i’ve finished :) this was really fun to write!! i love writing for the hashiras but tend to only do it when someone requests since it takes up a lot of my time to get through all of them - and i like to post fast. hope you’ve enjoyed !! <3

REQUESTS : OPEN

[blingblong55]

The Great War -141, Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of "Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i've been betrayed" coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, 'oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do' and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u!

A/N: anon knew what they were doing with that ask…anyway, here you go my love…betrayal as a meal <3

--- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of torture and violence

A/N: also, not much of an angst since I don't want to kill Soap in this one...but I hope you like it

[Present day]

File #21712

Name: [Readers Last, First name]

Alias: Grim

Callsign: Bravo 0-5

Gender: F

DOB: [Redacted]

Rank: 2nd Lt.

Affiliations: 

-TF 141 (Former)

-Kasper Team (dissolved)

-Konni Group (Current)

Status: Alive. Threat.

Summary:

Deadly, fast and a killing machine. Soldier was trained as a recon sniper and has been trained by allied forces as an insertion specialist. SAS has recognised this soldier as a necessity for most of its joint operations. Decorated with high awards and recognition by all military forces. TF 141 acquired soldier after a mission in Al Mazrah. Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.

---------------------- 

The file was there, Laswell and all of the men in the team stared at it. What have they done, was all that played in their minds. To betray a soldier that has been wanted by all allied forces, by all teams and now losing you so quickly to a Russian group. To think your hands will be responsible for their demise. One torture room, where you begged as they did vile acts against you. Truth yelled by your gravelly throat, only to have Price ask for more of your blood. "How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. 

[Eight years ago]

There had been suspicion someone within the base was working with KorTac, a double agent. All fake puzzles led to an unsuspecting, then officer cadet, you. Ghost and Soap made sure to tie you nicely to a chair. The same one that watched you bleed the truth as they cut looking for lies. You were always the hunter, never the prey. "Tell us, R/N, why the fuck were you talking to KorTac!" Price made sure to have the young Lieutenant punch you each time you stayed silent. Your blood on the walls of the torture-...interrogation room. "I told you Price, it isn't me!" Your eyes poured the truth they never saw. 

"Fucking answer us!" Soap, more than ever hurt, slapped you. You play tough, but this hurts, the people you trusted with your life are now wanting to end it. An oath you hold close to you, now far away, or so they believed. The patch you wore with pride, is now ripped from your uniform. No longer friendly but an enemy. You knew what this meant. Ghost took his knife out, began to approach your neck with the sharp blade and before he took your life, Gaz walked in. A small-figured soldier is being pushed into the room. "Tell them what you told me!" Garrick barked. "I-it's me! I'm the one who is talking to KorTac," voice filled with fear, rightfully so. Ghost let go of the fisted uniform in his hand, and watched as your body fell forward. Soap, look of regret, held you in his arms. 

On the way to the medic centre, Ghost was by your side as you kept whispering it wasn't you. The scar he made, is forever to be kept. Days of healing, hours of apologies. Nights when you didn't hear it, but the cold lieutenant apologised with a stream of tears on his face. A blade he cared for, neared your death. 

A/N: Makarov's information has been updated for the reboot, so I'm basing myself on that

[Seven years ago]

[Saint Petersburg, Russia]

You visited the country as a civilian and bumped into a man on your way to your hotel. "Sorry, mate," you kept walking and then days later, the same man appeared in the hotel's lobby. Bumped into you and then as an apology for spilling your wine, he offers dinner. 36-year-old Vladimir was still not illustrated, not to any of his future enemies or hunters at least. You learned many things with him that evening, from his young years in the military and how his night had gotten better since meeting you. "It's wonderful, to have such a beauty like you visit such a dull country." He had you blushing and knew how to mess with your young heart. 

"You're just saying that, Vlad," a smile on your lips. It was bizarre how he went from Vladimir to Vlad, a short name that meant too much to a man like him. "Well, it's true, my dear," his smile winning you over. He didn't know your real job and you didn't know his. That night, you made a friend, someone you hold dear. That night, he made a lover, a puppet to his future. 

[Six years ago]

[middle of nowhere]

"Where are you taking me?" a blindfold on you as your boyfriend, Vlad, took you to yet another date. "You'll see my dearest," he whispers against your soft skin. Warm breeze hit your skin. The ocean, as free as you and him yearned to be. "Suprise my love," his thick accent melting your heart. The blindfold off you, you smile and hug him. This day, all truth was told, no arguments, just two lovers understanding each other's lives. "No no, my love, I would never hurt you," a promise he knows to keep. "And you wouldn't betray me, right love?" His hands cupped your delicate face as you nod. "I would never," you whisper as you feel his lips fall on yours. 

From then on, no one knew who he was to you. But to his comrades, friends and family you were the girl who held his heart. The task force all thought you were just like them, stuck to the mission and not to civilian love. Dancing with the devil, making love to him and promising your all. An engagement ring that hangs with your dog tags. Secret love to never be told. 

[Five years ago]

"Who is this?" Soap and Gaz looked at the photograph. "Vladimir Makarov, a Russian nationalist, born during the USSR," Laswell responded. "He's the target," her lips said. A knot at your throat, this can't be, you have to warn him. "Y'alright love?" Ghost's hand on your back. You nod. "Yeah, I'm just thinking," you turn to him. He nods, "Right, well, what do you think we should do?" He encouraged you, the new lieutenant of the team, no longer a cadet officer. It was something he pushed you to, to be the best. Proud smile on him when you ran up to him with the news. "I say we start with intel," you look at the photograph once more. It was your Vlad, no doubt. "Right, sergeants with me, Ghost and Grim stay behind for Laswell's next intel ask," Price nodded and left. 

Days passed and Operation Golf was established. Ghost taught you how to perfect your ghillie suit. He just liked how you tried to make yours better than his, which always turned into, 'which Lt. wore it better'.

By midnight, as Ghost went to sleep, you left base to meet with Vladimir. Price and the two other men in a different country, looking for him. "What is it, my love?" His gloved hands held your face. "They are now gathering intel on you. They believe you are still in Russia," you spoke in Russian. He chuckles, "Shame that I'm here, isn't it," his lips meet yours. Your nose is cold and now warmed by his kiss. "Don't trust no one, not even Ivan," you warn him. "I only trust my beautiful love," he kisses you again. "Now, let me hold my precious darling before she plays pretend." And that night, was the first of many rendezvous's he took for you whilst you play ally to the task force. 

[Four years ago]

You were on an operation with some old teammates from a past squad when Price got a hold of you. "Grim, it's that Captain Price guy!" A teammate calls out. You answer the call. "Prisoner 627 is now in Russia," Price proudly spoke. 627, a number unique to the case the military had opened for Makarov alone. Your wedding ring is hung with the dog tags. "Copy, out." You say over the call. That night, your bedroom was not filled with the call of your dearest lover. It's strange, to play pretend with the family you made as a soldier and to play feign with the man you call home as a wife. All in the name of love and war. 

Months pass and you play calmly. No husband, just an enemy in some Russian prison. "Y'okay bonnie?" Soap sat beside you during mess hall. "Yeah, just a bit tired from that training," you lie. The sleepless nights you have thought about your husband. You look around the table, no one knowing you knew what would come next from Konni. In the end, it wouldn't be you who got betrayed again. Not tortured, especially not by the men in your husband's team that guarded your life with theirs. 

Mission after mission, you would go to a country near Russia. Have meetings with people on your husband's side, and hear how he would escape prison. Asked you to stay away from his people when the day arrived. Play good, he would remind you. You know the date, time, how and when it would happen. The plan is all memorised in your head. You knew the people that would break him free, you knew it all and yet no one in 141 was aware. 

[Three years ago]

On yet another mission, you got news of Vladimir. He isolated himself, prepared for when he would see you again. Sent letters to you occasionally. Details of love no one would see from a man like him. A love for all movie lovers to never witness. You roamed the home he set out to be his and yours, no one, not even his best soldier knew that home existed. It was days like these that you wished to have stayed in bed and kissed his body, all details to be taken in for when you waited to once more kiss him. 

The picture of the secret wedding was held between your fingers. A smile he dreams to see as he awaits the prison break. The man who was set to believe evil held your hand and promised an entire lifetime of love. "I'm sorry," you whisper as your gaze focuses on the 141 emblem. 

"Never be sorry, never, what they did to you is cruel, you never do that to a woman who was oathed in," fury escaped his lips. It was the night he finally told you all about him. He kissed the scars that the torture room left. In that moment, all else who dared question you, especially the rats of 141 would pay for what they did to his darling. Maybe he did corrupt you, but those scars, the lies they believed and the truths they never heard from you, were way before he met you. He believed in loyalty, good or evil, opposing or not. And the way you told him how you held the oath of being a soldier dear to you, he admired it. He believes that loyalty is essential, and if you are loyal to who you are, he applauds it. 

[Two years ago]

A mission gone wrong, a phone call from within the prison. All he sacrificed to just hear you say, "I'm fine, honey." With that oh-so-soft voice of yours. A sigh of relief came from his lips. This was a reminder he would always be around even from within a guarder tower of hell. His men would always guard you, even if they fought 141, you were never the target. KorTac had a target on their backs when Vladimir found out they were the ones responsible for the bullet on your shoulder. "What is it?" He asked the guard. "The girl has been injured, gunfight at some mission." He had people that worked for him within the guards, and when the news arrived to him, that's when for the first time in his life, he feared life and a gun. Vladimir Makarov is a villain in everyone's eyes. In your eyes that hold paradise, he is peace. He is Vlad, your husband. 

Whilst waiting for Soap to get cleared from the medics, you played with the ring on your necklace. "Oh, R/N, has some lover?" Gaz was the first to notice. Ghost's stare went to you, eyes wide as he heard the words he never needed to hear. Your blush told the words his heart never wanted to hear. 

[One year ago]

[Las Almas, Mexico]

"Are you threatening us?" Ghost asked and in that moment, he made you back away. Guarding you with his body. Betrayal, the first of many he would see with you. That became the night you escaped the shadows of Commander Graves. Soap was somewhere in the city, Ghost and you escaped every chance the shadows had at catching you. Imprisonment is something you got Colonel Vargas out of. Ironic. By the end, you killed him, the man who used his shadows, in some explosion. "You alright, love?" Ghost asked as you went to the aircraft quietly. "Yeah, Mexico just tired me," your head hung as you played with the dog tags. "Who's the lover?" He finally acknowledged the ring. "No one, it's just a silly joke," you lie, something he knew well. "Hmm, yeah...a silly joke," he turned away from you. 

[Present day, 21 November 2023 ] 

[London, England]

The last time you saw them all as a team, well, now that you were sure you'd be a newfound enemy. With Makarov now out of prison, prisoner 627, your love called for him. As Ghost looked through the CCTV cameras, one of the men in Konni gave you the signal. And as you approached, you caught a glimpse of him. Your heart flutters and then you look at Ghost. He nodded and you pretended to try and fight against Makarov. Czar-9-0 Actual. The callsign of your husband and the name of the man you betrayed them for. Guns blazing, bullets directed at them, not you. Gaz and Ghost, a team, Soap and Price, a team, 141, one unit. You, the wife of the enemy. Two bullets and then, the head hit the ground. Young soldier down. "What are you doing?!" Soap asked as you turned on them. A 20-year-old soldier died within seconds, you knew him from when he joined at 18. James, the man whose blood ran on your gun. 

Makarov fired, one of his men held your hand and brought you to your husband. The 141 patch off your uniform as now, you were given the Konni patch. "Welcome back, comrade," a man spoke with an evil grin. Ghost, the eyes that saw the betrayal again. 23 soldiers died, from both sides. 141 on the ground, trying to recover. 

--

"C'mon, Grim, you have to trust me on this, yeah?" the young lieutenant that made Ghost told you. "What if we fall?" you asked. "If you trust me, we won't and if I trust you, we will go home and get a pint or two," He smiles at you. From this day on, you and he became close, a bond no gun could break. 

--

Ghost swore you were taken hostage. And as Makarov was about to kill Captain Price, one of his men tapped him out. "No time, we will get him later!" Ghost's glare never left yours. He shook his head. This can't be, not his R/N. You looked at him, no remorse behind your eyes. It wasn't R/N, it was Grim that stared at him. The soldier he respected the most. You pointed your gun at one of the other soldiers with them. 

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

He jumped at you, to not kill you but to bring you back and let Makarov run with Grim. You pushed him, what turned into a fight for his teammate to be back, became a fight against the enemy. You pushed him to the ground. "Ghost!" Gaz yelled as he saw your gun pointed at him. It was never Makarov that would be his demise. It wasn't an enemy. It was you. It was the one he held dear to his civilian self. The woman he would drink poison for. The one he jumped a bullet for when they were young cadets. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His eyes never left yours and for a second, he saw past Grim and noticed the scared R/N that obeyed her husband. 

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

You put your gun down and turn away, running to Vladimir. His open arms, ready to embrace his darling. Now, all of 141's secrets are with Makarov. It clicked in that instant. How four years ago Makarov knew who Ghost was. How well he knew all their names. It wasn't some file he saw when his hacker got in, no, it was you, the best of all pawns. The train cleaned your tracks. Price and the others stood in fear, all this time, you were part of Konni. Ghost stood in silence. 

In every war he was in, you were there. His favourite of all soldiers. From his early days as just Simon to his latest days as Ghost, all witnessed by you. He was the one who asked for you anywhere he went. His life came in a flash, all the Christmas events, the dinners and drinks he had with his friend...no...enemy. The one person who knew Simon liked the palm of her hand, now holding the man Ghost called an enemy. 

"How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. "But that was years ago," Soap comments. "It started years ago," Gaz mentions. "We weren't meant to win this one gentlemen," Kate informs.

"Fuck!" Ghost's blood boiled. He scared them, he knew that well. So when he slammed his fist on the table, he even made the best of soldiers flinch. "Lt," Soap tried to calm him down. "No, Johnny! You don't get it, you don't know her as I do," he approached the sergeant. "She didn't kill you, why?" Kate walks to the betrayed soldier. "What?" His voice is hoarse. "She had the chance to kill you, headshot even, yet she didn't, she ran to him and then when she did, all fire ceased." Kate is after all a mastermind. "She didn't betray Simon, she betrayed Ghost, she betrayed Soap, not Johnny, Gaz, not Kyle and Bravo six, not John." She states. 

"She betrayed soldiers, not family," Price came to realisation. Grim did that, Grim killed all that came between the goal. 'Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.' The goal wasn't to kill Task Force 141, it was to get revenge for the betrayal, for torturing you in a room, letting your blood drip. You married a man, something all fools do. But even though Makarov wanted you to pull the trigger on Ghost, you didn't. You ran away and the fire ceased. 

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

A/N: see what I did there?...mastermind me y'know

Tags:

@tf141glory @liyanahelena @quaritchscupquake @dilfgestivo @thefragmented @scarletdfox @arialikestea @unicorngirly1 @alhaizen @willowaftxn83-87 @koniglovesme @bbyfimmie @mothcelestial @kit-kats06 @palomesa @dheet @dontfearthereaperazura

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hi, honey! Could you please write something about Emily Prentiss having a teenage daughter who sh’s and Em finds out? I know you wrote something similar and it’s perfectly okay if you feel like this is too repetitive <3 Ps; you’re so incredible and I aspire to be able to write like you do!! <3

Here you go, Anon! It's true, I've had a lot of SH-related requests recently, but I really don't mind the repetition. If it's something people want more of, and it helps them feel safe and heard and loved, I'm happy to write it. ❤️ (and thank you so much I'm so flattered! <3)

Tiny

Emily Prentiss x daughter!reader Warnings: self-harm, discussion of self-harm and self-harm tools, mental illness, internalized homophobia, explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.8k

Summary: After your best friend moves away, you start to struggle with depression, loneliness, and self-harm. You do a pretty good job of hiding it for a while but your mom is a profiler after all.

You’d been so good, so good, at hiding it. Long sleeves. Bracelets. You kept the tiny, sharp travel scissors in your locker at school, disguised in a bag with fabric and buttons and needles. A sewing project, you always said if anyone asked. But no one asked.

The truth of the matter was that you didn’t have many friends. And Sophia, your best friend since second grade, had moved to Denver last year for her dad’s job. You’d sworn to keep in touch, sworn that you’d stay best friends no matter what. And you’d tried, you’d really tried. But the daily texts had turned into weekly texts. The every-other-night FaceTime calls became every-other-month. And every time you talked to her, it seemed like her life was better than ever. She had new friends. A new soccer team. Even a boyfriend. It seemed like every time you called her, she was with him.

It hurt when you realized that Sophia liked spending time with her new boyfriend more than spending time with you. But it had hurt even more to examine your own jealousy, your own inexplicable rage at her moving on, making new friends, having new experiences. The reality–that you liked Sophia as more than a friend–hit you like a gut punch. And you didn’t know who to talk to about it. Normally, you’d talk to Sophia. But you couldn’t talk to her about this. Honestly, you weren’t even sure you were good enough friends to talk about boys or girls or whoever anymore. She’d drifted away and left you behind.

You thought about talking to your mom–she’d dated girls. But she was so busy with work, so stressed. She tried really hard not to let on when she was home, but you could see how tired she was, how she nodded blankly when you told her about your day, her mind elsewhere. No doubt with the hundreds of psychopaths and murderers she investigated every day.

You didn’t know who you were or what you were. You just knew that you were lonely and hurt and so deeply confused. There were other LGBTQ+ kids at school, but they’d all been out since middle school. They had that unbreakable comradery that queer kids who flock together often have. And you’d missed it.

All the confusion, all the hurt, all the feelings, roiled inside you until there was no place for it to go except out. The first time you’d drawn the scissors across your forearm, the blood had surprised you, as had the brief moment where there was blood but no pain. But when the pain did hit, it felt like a balloon had popped, like something that had been growing and growing and pressing in on you had shrunk back down to a manageable size.

Of course, the shame followed. Of course, you felt terrible, guilty, ashamed, sick to your stomach. Of course, you cried when you thought about what your mom would say if she saw it, what Sophia would say. But even worse, you knew they’d ask why. And you were terrified to talk about why. So you put on your long sleeves. You started wearing bracelets. And you hoped that no one would notice.

But that night, after a quick dinner of takeout pizza and Caesar salad, your mom had asked you to wash up and, without thinking, you’d rolled up your sleeves to do the dishes.

“Oh my god!” your mom exclaimed, rushing to your side. “What happened to your arm!?”

It was so stupid. You’d been so careful. You’d kept this a secret for months and now, with just one fuck-up, you’d ruined it.

“Nothing!” you cried, squirming out of her grip. “I just… I scratched myself, that’s all.”

But your mom wasn’t stupid. She spoke six languages. She headed an FBI unit. She was the smartest person you knew. She profiled people for a living. And she could tell when you were lying.

“Y/N!” she chastised, grabbing onto your arms hard. She'd also trained in hand-to-hand combat so you were really no match for her.

She turned your wrists around so she could see the inside of your arms, and the look on her face nearly broke you. It was sadness, it was guilt, it was shock and disbelief and worry, so much worry. You stared at the ceiling, willing yourself not to cry, mouth clamped shut.

“Y/N,” she said, quieter, running a gentle thumb along your forearms. “Tiny, look at me.” A tear dripped down your cheek. She didn’t call you Tiny much these days. And you always rolled your eyes when she did. It was what she’d called you when you were little. I love you, Tiny. You're so strong, Tiny! You can do it! Everything’s gonna be okay, Tiny.

You sniffed and lowered your head to look at her, more tears falling. You saw that your mom had tears in her eyes, too, and it made you feel awful.

“How long have you been hurting yourself?” she asked, her voice calm and gentle, full of emotion.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, sniffling. “Maybe like… six months?”

She let out a shaky sigh and nodded. “Okay,” she said, more to herself than to you. “Okay.” After a moment, she drew you into her, and you pressed your face into her chest, finally letting yourself cry.

“It’s okay, honey,” she cooed, smoothing your hair as she hugged you. “It’s gonna be okay.”

When your sobs had calmed to hiccups, you emerged, face red and blotchy. Your mom wiped your face with her hands and motioned to the kitchen table. “This might be hard for you,” she started, looking at you earnestly. “But we need to talk about it. Go ahead and sit down. I’m gonna make us some tea.”

You took deep, soothing breaths as your mom set a steeping cup of chamomile in front of you, holding her own close to her chest.

“Are you mad at me?” you whispered, scared of the conversation to come.

“No, baby,” she assured you, squeezing your hand. “I’m not mad. I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

You nodded.

“Now, first things first,” she began, and you winced, sure she was going to take something away from you or ground you or something. “Do you know how to properly clean and dress a cut like that?”

You blinked in surprise. “Uh…” You were floundering. This is not where you expected this conversation to go. “I mean, I put band-aids on them.”

“Yeah, no,” your mom said, taking out her phone and making a note. “We’re gonna get you some alcohol sterilizer. Let’s see… Neosporin, gauze bandages. Probably butterfly bandages too, just in case. And whatever it is that you’re using for… this… you need to be sanitizing it before you use it.”

Your jaw dropped and you stared at her. “You don’t… want me to stop?”

She clicked the phone shut and stared purposefully at you. “Oh, no. Hear me loud and clear. I absolutely want you to stop. But… from what I know about self-harm, it’s a process. It might take some time. You might have relapses. And I just want you to be as safe as you can in recovery.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you said quietly, surprised at her response. You hadn’t really thought about being safe while cutting. Since cutting itself wasn’t exactly safe. Trust your mom to always be looking for ways to take care of you.

Your mom pursed her lips for a moment, as if thinking about how to proceed. And, once again, you were terrified that she was going to make you feel worse somehow, even if she didn’t mean to.

“It’s okay,” she stuttered, breathing out heavily, “if you don’t want to talk to me about what’s making you want to do this, but you need to talk to somebody. So tomorrow I’m gonna make some phone calls and we’re gonna find a therapist. And if your therapist recommends it, we might need to find you a psychiatric facility for a little bit.”

Ice-cold panic flooded your veins. “No, Mom, please!” 

“Hey, hey,” she said, grabbing your hands. “It is not a punishment. There is nothing wrong or shameful about your brain needing some help, okay? Even if it’s scary, we’re gonna do what we need to do to help you get better. Yes?”

You exhaled and nodded.

“Okay. So that’s what we’re gonna do.”

You were both silent for a moment, sipping your tea. You wished you could tell what your mom was thinking. You wished you could tell her what you were thinking. You so desperately wanted to tell someone. And you were scared. Scared that your mom would never look at you the same again. Scared that you’d never again be that same little girl, her Tiny. There was too much wrong with you.

You sniffled as your eyes filled with tears again. “Mom?” you squeaked.

“Yeah, honey?”

You asked what you were most afraid to ask. “Do you still love me?”

“Oh, baby,” she said, scooting her chair toward you and wrapping you in her arms. “Of course I do. I love you so much. I’ll always love you. You’re my little girl, you’re my Tiny.”

Your shoulders shook as you wept. “I just feel…” you cried. “I just feel like no one really loves me.”

“That’s just not true,” your mom said, rubbing your back. “I love you. All your aunts and uncles at the BAU love you. What about Sophia? She loves you.”

You cried even harder. “No, she doesn’t, Mom.”

Your mom brushed your hair away from her face. “What are you talking about? You talk all the time.”

And when you finally said it, it felt like a weight off your shoulders, like you’d been carrying a mountain for months and someone had finally lifted it away. You shook as you spoke. “She doesn’t love me like I love her.”

Understanding flooded your mom’s face. She nodded, and you could tell by the look on her face, by the empathy in her eyes, by the way she squeezed your hand and cupped your face and pursed her lips that she knew. She knew what it was like. She knew the confusion and the hurt and the self-hatred. She knew it all.

And it was almost better that she didn’t say anything. Anything at all. She just looked at you and understood. She just brushed your tears away with her thumb and let you finish crying. And when your sobs subsided, she held your hand. And she kept holding it. And after a while, she brushed your hair out of your face and said, “Everything’s gonna be okay, Tiny. I promise.”

And you knew–because she was your mom, because she was her, because she loved you and you loved her–that it would be.

[deathbxnny]

Ok so can i tell you something? Im in love with the Halovian species from Penacony. Idk why but they just look so pretty and I WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT THEM. I WANNA HOW BIBLICALLY MESSED UP THEY ARE BECAUSE THE FAMILY ARE GIVING ME CULT VIBES! I even have 3 halovian OCs that im in the middle of making rn. Im not satisfied with them rn since i wanna wait for more lore about the Halovians.

With that being said, can i request Fontaine men (Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Lyney) with a Halovian s/o?

Context:

The halovian reader somehow got isekaied from Penacony to the Genshin Impact universe and just suddenly appeared in Fontaine. Do what you will with that small backstory ^_^

Hope you have a good day/night and take care of yourself!

- Flower anon 🌸

Hey there, Flower Anon!! I absolutely relate to the Halovian obsession, and thank you for the great request! I hope you'll like this!<33

Content: Reader is a Halovian, isekai troupe, established relationship, reader has Halovian wings abd a halo, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

》NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette immideatly knew at first sight that you didn't belong to this world. And yet, he treated you like everyone else when you two met. He didn't push you on your past or what you really were, but made sure to protect you from prying eyes or people that may want to harm you due to your rather unique appearance.

He finds your little wings and halo absolutely adorable, even if he doesn't show it often due to not knowing how he should express himself. But he definitely lights up when you allow him to pet/touch them. Neuvillette also doesn't allow anyone to bully or hurt you the same way he did it with the Melusines. He practically makes it law, and who would dare to oppose him anyway?

He finds it comforting to know that both of you have a secret identity you have to hide from the world. One only the other truly and really knows about. It makes him feel less lonely, and he's thankful for that.

》Wriothesley

He becomes suspicious of you at first, hiding his interest behind teasing words and narrowed eyes. But over time, he finds himself becoming rather obsessed with your look and the mystery that lies under the surface. Although it's hard to tell that he feels this way, considering his naturally secretive nature.

With that said, he is obsessed with your little wings. He's always gently pulling on them or fixing up your feathers for you. He won't let anyone look at you weird or bully your appearance either. He thinks you look divine, absolutely adorable. Anyone that disagrees is ofcourse very much wrong.

Wriothesley doesn't pry into your past, mainly because he'd know best how annoying that can be. If you never want to tell him, then so be it. And even when you do one day, he'll be there to support you and reassure you that it doesn't matter anymore down here in the fortress anymore. Life has restarted for the both of you, together.

》LYNEY

Lyney was absolutely fascinated by you at first sight. He couldn't help himself when he asked you too many questions, eyes never leaving your unique features that made his heart beat a little faster. If it wasn't for Lynette forcing him to have some shame, he would've never looked away from you. He definitely called you "angel" ever since your first meeting, and that never changed even after getting together. It felt wrong to him not to call you that.

He fusses over your appearance all the time, mainly over your wings and halo looking perfect. It makes him happy that he's the only one allowed to touch you this way. With that said, however, he knows that you being with him, considering who he belonged to, would end up causing you trouble. He'd protect you with his life though, that's for sure.

He understands if you aren't necessarily willing to share your past with him. He's patient. He'll wait forever for you to tell him, even if you never want to, which is fine too. You'll make enough new memories together to replace unpleasant, old ones. He promises you that.

Alrightttt... I hope this was alright, Flower Anon, and thank you again for the great request!!<33

[kairiscorner]

omds i luvvvvvvv your writing so much 🤭🤭 could i req a earth 42 miles or a hobie brown fic where reader gets bullied for dating miles/hobie (whichever one u pick 🖤) because people think she’s “not good enough for him” because she’s like one of the quiet kids she doesn’t go to like parties and stuff like that she’s always studying and that kinda stuff and miles/hobie finds out when one of his friends confronts him ab it (you can write this however u like!!!!) and he talks w reader and stuff just a bunch of htc!! 🖤 thank you sooooo much

OH DAMN, sure thing anon !! i am just like y/n fr it's just that i don't have bitches 😭😭😭 but i hope u like this rahhh !!!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

they're more than worthy of me. – miles 42 x reader

nobody ever has a perfect life, let alone a perfect love life, but when you were with miles, everything felt just right. he loved you with a love that wasn't overbearing or possessive, he gave you your space when you needed it and supported you from the sidelines in every endeavor you dared to try. you didn't stand out much though, really, you blended in quite well into the background. you were used to not being recognized or acknowledged immediately, and you were fine with it—though you were confused why recently, a few of your classmates were acting a little mean to you.

you never harbored any ill will towards these people—as far as you were concerned, you doubt that more than half of these kids would even remember your name. every time you approached a classmate of yours for a question, they'd immediately walk away the minute you walked over to them, others would ask you in sarcastic voices if you couldn't even do something so simple with a smile that tried to get you thinking they meant no harm when in reality, they wanted you away from them. you couldn't even pretend and think that they were just busy or being realistic—that you should be able to do something as simple as the question to an activity that you were stumped on, but you couldn't—this was because a lot of those classmates of yours adored miles.

they liked miles and having his attention on them, angry if anyone else were to get his attention away from them. before you entered the picture, they were all over him—devoted and loved him like a friend, some had loved him in more than just a friendly way, but none of his friends and admirers in your class took it very kindly when they noticed you and miles getting along a bit too well back then; when you two became a thing, everything just got worse. miles still hangs out with some of these people, though he doesn't consider them his friends—tonight, he'd be attending a party of theirs with ganke, with you opting to stay behind and catch up on school works.

late at night, as you were finishing up your studying session, you got a text from miles, asking you to come down and meet him by your front door. you got up from your chair and walked down to your front door, and there he was, battered and bruised in the face—looking into your eyes with hurting in them. you asked him in worried stammers about what happened to him, who did this to him, if he was even okay. you checked his face all over, and when you saw the backs of his hands, they were reddened and scarred, you couldn't tell if the blood was his or someone else's, because you knew this was no accident that happened to him—he got into a fight, a serious one.

"miles, what happened?" you asked him in a shuddering voice, with miles bringing his red, bloody knuckled hands to your shoulders and wrapped you in his arms. he didn't answer you quite yet as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tightly as his initial response. "how could they not accept that i love you?" he murmured as you gently placed your hands on his back, reciprocating his hug despite your confusion. "i... miles, what?" "ganke told me he heard a bunch of the guys at the party talking shit about you behind my back. i... i confronted them, asked them why they said what they said, but the last thing they wanted to do was cooperate and be honest. so i... i did some things i wasn't proud of. i'm sorry, i'm just so sick of people hurting you all for my sake–you deserve better, mi cielo..." he whispered as you pulled away from him, watching the tears form in his eyes as he frowned up at you amidst the cuts and bruises on his face.

you brought him into your house and sat him down on the couch, hurriedly getting him a first aid kit to treat his wounds. you wrapped his knuckles up in gauze, with him mindlessly following your hands with his gaze–him taking in all the gentle and softness of your touch. "i'm sorry, again, mi vida. i shouldn't... i should've handled it better." miles apologized to you again as you were tying up the gauze on his hand. "love..." you called out to him, placing your hand on top of his with concern and love filling your gaze. "i'm just glad you're alive and well. i wish you didn't have to get hurt or hurt anyone, but... i'm glad you love me enough to defend me like you did even though i wasn't there." you said in a quiet voice, smiling up at him with tears in your own eyes, matching the tears in his as he looked back at you and nodded, his lower lip quivering.

"i'd do it all again, and more, for you–mi cielo. i swear, you... you won't ever shed another tear... because of another person being an asshole to you–i can't not love you, cielo, i can't..." miles murmured with a cracking voice as he got more vulnerable. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close as he sobbed, muttering to you how he'd love you forever, that much would never change–no matter if the multiverse demanded you two cannot be, he'd make a world for just the two of you, even if everyone else would disagree.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn @onginlove @euphovlq @meowmoraless

[azrielgreen]

The social side of a fandom can be really fun, especially at first, but please always remember that 99% of the interactions are completely hollow. People are giving 5-10% of their time per day in a way that requires very little effort or social construct. I say this because after a certain point, people start to take this stuff very seriously, even considering it a community.

The lack of accountability means, imo, that social fandom can never be a community. You can make friends, absolutely. You can meet the love of your life and make friends you'll never be without, that's completely real. But the vast majority of us don't know each other and we never will. The ability to create personas without moral tethering means that bullying becomes RAMPANT under the guise of "you like this thing in the wrong way, I like it the right way!" I've noticed that the easiest way for a group to start bullying without reproach is to take up the mantle of Purity Police, but it inevitably devolves into the root of the issue - insecurity. Not feeling secure in an online space, not feeling secure sharing what they like and engaging unless they're throwing someone else under the bus, almost like they have to justify why they like the thing in the first place and that's without even touching upon jealousy.

"I like it for the RIGHT reasons, canon reasons, proper reasons!"

It's all the same.

And it is, at least partially, due to the fact that fandom was never meant to be this visible or this widely connected. It takes a reasonable degree of self security to see someone with a completely contrary take about the things/characters you love... and walk on by. A lot of people aren't that secure and the ability to be anonymous, to drop something spiteful and immediately put the phone down is a dangerously addictive feeling. What repercussions are there for this? None. The level of disconnect between phone and reality is DANGEROUS.

But that disconnect dissolves when you're on the other end, the notification end. The damage done by online bullying in a space that once felt like a safe haven of self expression and creative engagement is untold. There are so few studies done on the fallout and the psychological harm it can do, but it's considerable.

Unfortunately, as lovely as social fandom can be, it can equally be a negative place to spend your time and energy.

I think often of that person who openly pretended to be my friend and then forgot to select ANON on a really mean ask. I know others this has happened to. We don't know enough about each other to be safe and we never will.

So please, protect yourself first. Don't give yourself fully to something built on sand. Have fun, share creations, make friends, enjoy and embrace and be kind and if you cannot be kind, block and scroll and please take BREAKS.

If someone else's headcanon feels like a personal attack on yours, take a break. If someone's fic is written different than what you like, don't read it. If you see art in a pairing you don't like, scroll the fuck on.

I promise, none of this shit is worth hurting yourself or others in the long run.

💜💜💜

[thelov3lybookworm]

newly-mated cassian x reader or azriel x reader finds out his mate is pregnant, and his primal protective instincts go crazyyyy,overprotective isn’t even the word, like if someone looks at her funny he has a knife to their throat. or imagine someone pushes her and she falls and he just beats them to the brink of death

Overwhelming.

A/n: thank you anon for the ask, I love it 🫶

•○🌑○•

"And then– Cassian?" Y/n groaned, realising her mate wasn't walking next to her anymore. She turned, searching for the overgrown bat, and it didn't take long to find him as he towered over everyone.

She made her way through the crowd towards the mouth of a darkened alleyway, where Cassian was furiously whispering something to a male, who was pressed up against the wall.

"I swear to the cauldron–" Her mate was saying when she finally reached them.

"Cassian!" He turned immediately, most of his attention now on her.

"Yes darling?"

She glared at him, hands on her hips. "Let him go."

"But he was looking at you weirdly–"

"I wasn't! I–" The victim in question began, but one look from Cassian had him shutting up, swallowing thickly. A glint at the male's neck caught Y/n's eye, and she realised that Cassian had a knife to his neck.

"I'm pretty sure he wasn't. Let him go."

"But–"

"Cassian." She sighed.

He grumbled but sheathed his knife. The male ran off with a grateful look at Y/n.

"Why would you do–"

"Cassian. Can you please stop doing that? I'm tired." Since he'd found out about her pregnancy two months ago, he'd almost made life living hell. For both Y/n and whoever dared to look at her. It wasn't that she hated it. No, she loved when her mate took care of her. But it was starting to get too much now. And if this was the case when it had only been two months, she couldn't imagine what he'd do for the rest of the term.

He nodded, his head low, shoulders slumped. She sighed before walking up to him and pecking his cheek. He smiled, and they continued on their way.

It had been a long time since the two of them had set foot outside of the home, with him insisting everyone out there was out to get his mate and child, and her not wanting anyone to die at his hands. So she had stayed at home, but she couldn't stay cooped up forever. They were taking a walk around the Rainbow as she told him of the new book she was reading when he cornered the male.

As they now walked on, Y/n spotted an Illyrian male walking towards them, talking to another fae male. She knew his wings would bump into her, so she tried to steer clear of them. But the place was jam packed, and his wings knocked against her shoulder.

Immediately, Cassian was on him, growling and snarling. He punched the guy, who tried to deflect. But one should always steer clear of a protective fae male, let alone an Illyrian, when their partner is pregnant.

The two went down as the people passing by stopped and stared. Some started muttering to each other as heat rose to Y/n's cheeks. She tugged at Cassian's collar, trying to get his attention by calling his name, to no avail.

She took a deep breath and then screeched. "Cassian!"

He stopped immediately, giving the other Illyrian the opportunity to slip from his grasp. He leaned heavily on his friend, looking halfway todeath. He was bruised badly, blood trickling from his nose and mouth as he stared incredulously at the General of the Night Court.

"What the hell?!" He said, glancing at Y/n who gave him an apologetic glance.

"I'm so sorry, he didn't mean to harm you."

"I most certainly did." Cassian snarled, standing and again starting to advance on the Illyrian.

"Cassian, please stop." She pleaded.

"Apologize. Now. You hurt my mate, and you will apologise."

"What?"

"You heard me. I will not repeat myself. Apolo–"

"There is no need to apologise. How can you expect him to ask for forgiveness when you nearly beat him to death?" She glared at her mate, exasperated.

The fae male sniffed the air, then his eyes went round. "Are you pregnant?" The Illyrian turned to her as well while Cassian continued grumbling.

She smiled and nodded.

"I'm so sorry then. I didn't mean to hurt you." The Illyrian smiled.

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it." Turning to cassian, she crossed her arms. "Cassian, say sorry. Please."

"Why me?" He burst out, his eyes wide. Before Y/n couldn't answer though, the Illyrian spoke up.

"There is no need. I understand. I had a similar reaction when my wife was pregnant." He turned away, giving a wave to Y/n before clapping Cassian on the back and walking away. Cassian eyed him until the crowd swallowed him up. Then he turned to Y/n.

"Take me home." He blinked at her demand.

"But didn't you want to spend some time here?"

"I would like to stay locked in the house if you are going to kill every citizen of Velaris for just even breathing the same air as me."

He opened his mouth, but picked her up to fly back when she gave him a look.

•○🌑○•

She hadn't talked to him since they returned, and she was as sad as he was.

The door creaked open, but she stayed lying on her side. She heard his footsteps coming closer, but he didn't climb onto the bed. She waited.

"Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?" His voice sounded so sad, like a kid who knew their parent was angry. She turned to him then.

"Why would I want that?"

"You're angry." His shoulders curved inwards, as if awaiting punishment.

She sighed. "Come here."

She spread her arms, and he climbed onto the bed, his arms going around her as his head rested on her chest. "I'm not angry, love. I just get a little upset when your protective side becomes overwhelming."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She told him, stroking his hair. "Just try to control the instincts. Yeah?"

He nodded, and when she glanced at him, she saw that he was pouting. She smiled.

"I love you." She murmured, kissing the top of his head. She flooded the bond with love, receiving the same amount of love that crashed into her soul from his side.

"I love you more. And you too." He mumbled, poking her belly.

She smiled. They talked into the night until sleep claimed them both.

As she drifted off, she knew the child growing in her would be the most loved child in the entirety of Prythian. And her mate would be the best father in the whole world.

Becuase, just like his protectiveness, his love was overwhelming.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess

[ineffablesuffering]

Where The Furniture Used to Be (Aziraphale x Crowley x Adopted!reader)

Hello! Welcome back! So this was a request from a lovely anon! (I hope you see this and you like it!) This is my very first attempt at angst so please be nice!

Pairing: (Aziraphale x Crowley x Adopted!reader)

Warnings: again like one swear word. Feels? (look i tried lmao)

Word Count: 2557

Note: To the other anon that sent me a request, I have seen it! It's been added to my list <3

Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, “Why can’t I go outside?” the wind picked up outside the bookshop window.

Aziraphale sighed. They, Crowley and Aziraphale, had adopted you when they you were a teenager after noting some strange weather patterns that seemed otherworldly and out of place in London. They had followed the trails and it led them to you, a then-teenager who had trouble controlling their emotions. You were a witch, a bloody powerful one at that, who could control and manipulate the elements no spell or potion needed. It had taken time, but Crowley had connected that the change in weather had come directly from your emotions whether they meant it or not.  Aziraphale and Crowley had worked hard to conceal them from their respective ex-head offices, and it had been working. Until now. You see, Heaven and Hell had taken notice of the young witch and had been watching closely for quite some time. The power they had worried them immensely, they felt threatened by it. With the planning of The Second Coming, they didn’t have the time nor patience to put up with someone who could quickly stop it.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you, my dear, at least let us accompany you,” Aziraphale said calmly.

“To me or to other people?” you snapped, “I am old enough to go and get a coffee myself Az. You don’t need to treat me like such a baby anymore. I’m not going to hurt anyone. I can control myself now. What could possibly happen to me huh? Nothing has ever happened to me, and nothing will. I can’t stay cooped up in here forever.” The wind continued to pick up outside.

“Oi!” Crowley said from his position on the sofa, “there’s no need to speak to Aziraphale like that. We’re just looking out for you that’s all.”

You let out a deep sigh and rubbed your temples; the wind slowly calming. You loved Aziraphale and Crowley so much and were very grateful to them for everything they had done. But this was too much. You could protect yourself, should anything ever happen to you. You were a grown adult, not the once out-of-control teenager you used to be.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, “I just think it’s a bit silly that I can’t go 10 minutes down the road to grab a coffee, on my own.”

Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust you, they just didn’t want any harm to come to you. You just looked at them, as they had a silent conversation debating on how they should handle the situation. Aziraphale sighed again and took your hands in his own.

“Okay, fine. You can go but come straight back.” Aziraphale said, softly but his tone suggested that there was no room for argument. A smile appeared on your face as you launched yourself into Aziraphale’s arms.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed, “I promise I won’t be long, and I’ll bring you back something too.”

Aziraphale chuckles as he returns the hug rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Just come straight back.” He said as he pulled away. You nodded and quickly made your way to Crowley.  

“Thank you!” you said as you gave Crowley a kiss on the cheek. Crowley just winks at you.

“I take my thanks in the form of a …”

“A big cup with 6 shots of espresso, yes I know,” you laughed interrupting him.

“That’s my little angel,” he said quietly and pressed a kiss to your hand.

You smiled as you made your way out of the bookshop. “Bye! Love you!” you said closing the door behind you.

“I do hope we made the right decision,” Aziraphale said sitting down next to Crowley, taking his hand in his.

“They’ll be fine Angel,” Crowley said, “Just have a little bit of faith,” he said kissing the angel's cheek before standing up and sauntering off into the kitchen to make Aziraphale a cup of tea.

You walked down the street towards the coffee shop with a smile on your face as you took in the scenes around you. There were cars driving up and down the street, the sun was shining, and a cool autumn breeze swirled around you. It truly seemed to be the perfect afternoon. As you walked with almost a skip in your step, you bumped into someone.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you said to the stranger. The stranger was a woman dressed in white with neat dark hair.

“Watch where you’re walking,” said the stranger.

“Sorry!” you said and continued on your way.

You reached the coffee shop just moments later, and praise be, there was no queue. The shop was particularly empty except for a woman who was sat at a table dressed in white but with beautiful dark skin. Strange you thought, that’s two women in white suits in the last few minutes. Maybe they’re getting married. You shrugged the thought off as you ordered an iced latte for yourself, a large cup with six shots of espresso for Crowley and a vanilla slice for Aziraphale. You paid and thanked the barista and waited for your order. You turned around and saw the woman at the table staring at you. You offered a friendly smile, but the woman just kept on staring at them. “Okay then,” you said under your breath.

You thank the barista when they hand you your order and make your way back to the bookshop. You take a sip of the iced latte and make a face. You didn’t order any syrup in your latte, but it tasted awfully like almonds, and that’s the last thing you remember before everything went black.

Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale was pacing. “They should be back by now,” he stressed as he walked.

“I’m sure they just bumped into a friend or something Angel,” Crowley responded trying to calm Aziraphale, but deep down he knew that something wasn’t right.

“It's been over an hour Crowley,” Aziraphale said glancing out the window to see if he could spot you.

“I know Angel, they’ll be fine,” Crowley said standing up and walking over to Aziraphale placing a hand on his shoulder.

Aziraphale turned to face Crowley and buried his head in his shoulder. Crowley wraps his arms around the angel, soothing him by running a hand up and down his back. Much like how Aziraphale had done to Y/N not too long ago. “Can we go look for them?” Aziraphale mumbled into Crowley’s shoulder.

“Would it make you feel better?” Crowley asked pulling away so he could look him in the eyes. Aziraphale just nodded and Crowley sighed. “C’mon then Angel.”

Aziraphale and Crowley walked down the same streets that Y/N had. The sun was still bright in the sky, the cool breeze whipping around them, but something wasn’t right. They could feel it. They turned the corner and stopped. On the middle of the pavement, there were two dropped coffees and a dropped paper bag which seemed to contain a vanilla slice. The angel and demon turned to each other as their hearts dropped to their stomachs.

You awoke to a bright light and a pounding headache. Your hands bound to a chair and a white rag in your mouth. You wince as you opened your eyes to see the two women from earlier standing before you hold a book.

“What is going on?” you tried to speak, but the rag prevented the words from coming out.

The woman with the neat dark hair snapped her fingers and the rag disappeared.

“You! You’re the women from earlier!” you thrash, trying to break free of the material that held you to the chair.

“Women?” the woman said, “We are the Archangels Michael,” they pointed and themselves “and Uriel,” they continued pointing to the other woma- angel, “and you must be Y/N,” they said a hint of disgust in their voice.

“What’s it to you?” you snap trying to burn your way through the material bounding you to the chair.

“Oh, that won’t work here, Y/N,” said Archangel Uriel, “your gifts are of no use to you in heaven.”

You froze. Heaven? Panic coursed through your veins like ice. “No, no, no, no.” you panicked.

“Oh yes, Y/N,” the Archangel Michael smiled. “You get quite the view from up here.”

“How do you even know who I am anyway?” You said.

“We’ve been watching you for quite some time now. Quite the stir you’ve made upstairs and downstairs. You’ve had us all quite worried,” spoke Uriel.

Your head was spinning. You knew about Heaven and Hell. You always have for as long as you’ve had your powers, that wasn’t the surprise. You knew Aziraphale was an angel and Crowley a demon, so coming face to face with two Archangels wasn’t a huge shock to the system. No, what panicked you the most was that you were up here and Aziraphale and Crowley were nowhere to be seen.

“W-What have you done to them?” you shouted.

“To who?” Uriel cocks their head.

“Aziraphale and Crowley!” you cried. “Where are they?”

“You mean The Traitor and the Demon?” Michael starts, “Oh nothing, it’s not as if they’ll even know who you are in a minute anyway,” they gestured to the book that Uriel held. You’d know that book anywhere.

“Is that?” you say suddenly getting quiet.

“You’re a clever witch, aren’t you?” Uriel said condescendingly.

“But I haven’t done anything!” you shout.

“Ah, not yet you haven’t,” Uriel starts “but we can’t have you interfering with The Second Coming now, can we?”

The Second what now? Fear and dread slowly started to fill your body from your head to your toes. They were going to erase you from The Book of Life. Tears filled your eyes as the reality of your situation dawned on you. You were at a loss for words as Uriel opened the book and handed it to Michael. Your thoughts ran wild as they smiled at you. You felt as if you were about to throw up.

Suddenly, doors opened to your left and voices shouted.

“Let them go!”

“What do you think you are doing!”

It was Aziraphale and Crowley running towards you. Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and you were freed from your restraints. You threw yourself into Crowley's arms and sobbed as Crowley caught you and stroked your hair. “You’re okay my little angel,” he whispered in your ear. Aziraphale stood in front of you both.

“What is the meaning of all this?” Aziraphale demanded.

“Ah, so glad you could join us,” Michael smiled, “We were just about to get started.”

Aziraphale froze when he saw what was in Michael's hands. He turned to Crowley, a wild expression on his face. Crowley tilted his head, confused until he too saw what Michael was holding. His hand froze on your hair.

“That’s not?” Crowley started, suddenly moving you behind him. Aziraphale nodded weakly, not knowing what to say or do. He turned to face Uriel and Michael.

“You can’t do that,” he stepped forward, but Uriel snapped their fingers, and he couldn’t move any further. He was stuck, and panic took over his body. “You wouldn’t, they haven’t done anything!” he shouted. His worst nightmare had suddenly become a reality. He was going to lose you and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Crowley tried to make a dash for The Book of Life, but it was no use, he wasn’t fast enough and soon he was also stuck in place, right next to Aziraphale. “You can’t do this!” he roared, fear washing over him. Michael and Uriel ignored them as they found your name in the book. You rushed in front of Aziraphale and Crowley, you turned and faced the two Archangels.

“Please, don’t do this,” you beg tears rolling down your face, “you can’t do this!” Uriel hands Michael a feather. “I promise I won’t cause any bother. I won’t!” you tried to bargain but it was no use.

“That’s not a risk we are willing to take,” said Michael and with one swift stroke, crossed your name out of The Book of Life, and disappeared.

You turned to face Aziraphale and Crowley and stumbled forward feeling slightly tingly. You felt arms around you as Aziraphale and Crowley were released from their holds as now, there was nothing they could do.

“No, no, no, no!” Crowley shouted as he grasped onto you. You could see tears fall from Aziraphale's eyes as he stroked your hair.

“It’s okay,” you said to them bringing a hand to each of their faces, tears still rolling down your face. “It’s going to be okay,” you whisper quietly.

“How can you say that Y/N?” Aziraphale whispers.

“Because in a few seconds, you won't even remember who I was. You won’t feel any pain.” You whisper to them, noticing that your hands were fading. This was it. A sob wracked through Crowley, his emotions getting the best of him. You feel his lips touch your forehead.

“You’ll always be my little angel Y/N,” he whispers into your hair, pressing another soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“I love you both so much.” You said, feeling yourself fade away.

“We love you too, so much,” Aziraphale whispers into your hair, kissing your head softly, and with that, you faded away in their arms.

A few days later, Aziraphale and Crowley were in the bookshop. Aziraphale had decided to close the shop today, not feeling like opening up. He sat at his desk a strange feeling in his stomach like something was missing but he couldn’t quite place what it was. He sighed and stood up from his desk and made his way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He found Crowley standing there staring at a cup of coffee.

“Everything alright my dear?” he asked.

“Hmm?” Crowley responded looking at him.

“I asked if everything is alright?”

“Oh, yeah m’fine.” He said with a sigh, “Do you ever feel like something isn’t quite right?” he asked Aziraphale after a moment.

“You know I was just thinking about that myself,” he said leaning next to him on the kitchen counter. “I’ve just felt rather, unfulfilled recently and I can’t seem to place why.” He frowned.

“Me too,” Crowley said reverting his attention back to his coffee. “It’s very strange, it feels like looking into a house you used to own and trying to place where the furniture used to be but you just can't.”

“That’s an oddly specific way of putting it.”

“But I’m not wrong.”

“No,” Aziraphale sighed, “you are not.”

They stood in silence for a minute before Aziraphale spoke up again. “I’m sure it will pass; all things pass in the end.”

Crowley looked at the angel with a bemused look on his face, “Did you just quote George Harrison?”

Aziraphale blushed “Maybe,”

“You surprise me every day Angel.” Crowley said with a chuckle, “C’mon make your tea and I’ll get you in the main room.” He said sauntering off.

So, life went on as it always had for Aziraphale and Crowley, though they could never shift that feeling that something, or rather someone, was missing.

[aphroditelovesu]

Can you pls write a Reyna fic? It doesn’t have to be big, just headcannon on what she’s like as a yandere pls😭

"I will always protect you." — Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano.

❝ 🐶 — lady l: Of course, anon! I confess that I had doubts about her personality, but I think I managed to represent her. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, overprotection, manipulation, guilty trap, Reyna puts the Reader in dangerous situations, toxic relationships.

❝🐶pairing: yandere!reyna avila ramírez-arellano x gender neutral!reader.

Reyna is strong and fearless, a competent and protective leader. She doesn't mind sacrificing herself to help others, to protect those she loves and the defenseless. Her qualities made her who she is, as did her life story. Reyna always knew who she was, or did, until the day you came into her life.

You not only became an important part of her but also an obligation, something she should protect and care for. Reyna was a praetor, she needed to take care of you. She saw you as someone who was defenseless and needed to be protected. Even if you don't need protection, she won't listen. She will take care of you.

She is determined to be someone you can trust with everything. Reyna will make sure you know that she's always there for you, whether it's for a shoulder to lean on or to do something stupid, she's always going to have your back.

Reyna is an exceptionally dedicated leader, and her determination to protect and care for you is evident in every action she takes. Her strength and fearlessness are admirable characteristics, but what captivates her most is the way she balances her firmness with genuine kindness and concern. Although she may have dark feelings for you, she will always put you before her selfish desires.

She is selfless and you will always be her priority. If you two get hurt, she will make sure you are treated first. Always by your side with a helping hand, you found yourself absorbed by Reyna's care, who never really paid attention to her true feelings.

She is extremely overprotective and sometimes she will send one of her dogs with you, just to make sure you are okay. She doesn't deal well with you going on quests or leaving her line of sight in general and Reyna tends to get anxious and nervous when this happens.

If something happens to you, may the gods be good. Reyna knows she will go crazy, just the thought of losing you sends her into a frenzy of worry, fear and anger. You couldn't be taken away from her. She took such good care of you, so why shouldn't you belong to her? Reyna will deal with anyone who dares to hurt you in any way she sees fit. No one can even think about hurting you.

Reyna isn't exactly possessive but she doesn't like the idea of ​​you being with other people. She can tolerate certain people, like some friends and family, but if she notices that they are taking up all of your time and attention, she will have to do something about it. Generally, she can make you feel guilty for neglecting it. Isn't she your friend? Is she not that important to you?

Being a protector, Reyna likes to have control over you. She can put you in potentially dangerous situations just so she can be your savior. She knows this isn't right, but you won't get hurt, so it's okay. And any guilt she may feel will disappear the moment you hug her.

Reyna is extremely intelligent and strategic, she knows how to put you where she wants you to be. A born manipulator, you will hardly notice her true intentions when she is by your side. She really cares about you and wants you to be happy, but Reyna can't allow that happiness not to be with her. She needs you and she will make sure you need her.

She is firm and if necessary she will discipline you in her own way, a military way. Reyna in no way wants to inflict pain or harm on you, but if harsh punishment is necessary for that, then so be it. Plus, she'll make sure it's just a one-time thing.

Reyna Arellano is an exceptionally dedicated leader, whose determination to protect and care goes beyond what would be expected. Despite her qualities, her relationship with you has become a priority in her life, leading her to take extreme measures to ensure your safety and happiness. Still, Reyna's true essence lies in her genuine desire to protect and care, even if it means facing her own feelings and limitations. Your presence is an anchor in her life.

[ratsbanes]

Regarding Mori and Dazai’s relationship, the way I see it Mori giving Dazai so much power at such a young age, knowing how unstable Dazai was, was the abuse. I’m not even saying Mori had purely bad intentions, I think Mori projects a lot when it comes to Dazai so he thought that working for the PM, doing something he excels at, would fulfil Dazai as it fulfilled Mori, but it obviously did not. And BSD makes a point of showing the harm of children, but also young adults, having too much power and responsibility time and time again, so the way Mori basically let Dazai run wild seemed always sad to me because it’s not like Dazai’s guns were toys. Dazai was in charge of a lot of missions that got a lot of people killed or hurt. He literally let an emotionally impulsive teen play with guns and torture and whatnot. Also another thing we often see in BSD is how power is extremely isolating and alienating, so making Dazai, who already felt alienated from a lot of peers bc of his intelligence and depression, an executive only added to that. Anywayyy sorry for rambling but your post just made me think! Hope you have a lovely day!

no youre great anon! i believe that this is the beauty of dazai and moris relationship, its pretty ambiguous so it begs room for multiple interpretations. i think ive mentioned mori giving dazai so much power before as being part of the abuse, but the interpretation comes from why mori would want to give dazai so much power.

mori does have a constant problem of assuming dazai is just like him. its the exact reason why he assumes odas death would mean nothing to dazai, even though its very clear he has his own set of morals and values. i also think there might have been some personal intentions from it as well, almost as a way for mori to keep a closer eye on dazai, whether that was because mori is a controlling bastard or because he wanted dazai to be his successor is up in the air (i like to believe its a bit of both).

i also like the point of dazais teenage power play! ive called dazai in the mafia "the dumb decision of a fourteen year old" before, which is pretty much exactly what happened. mori knew how smart dazai was, but he also knew how impressionable he was. dazai definitely would never admit it, but he needed someone there for him. mori chose to fill that role for dazai as well as letting dazai do a lot of the hard work for him. pretty much moris signature.

this is such a good ask anon, a lot of people forget that dazai was really just a teenager in the mafia. i would imagine its like being a preteen in college. you look all big and smart and mature, which you absolutely are, but youre also the most alone you could ever be.

[clangenrising]

sorry if this is too harsh to ask. when ever the story leans over to the city cats, they mistreat others or lean on the evil/bad side (look at poor aldertail, lake, scorch, and smokeyrose :( ) the more I read this, the more I'm siding with the clan cats to wipe out all the city cats. that way there can be peace for everyone because I can't see how the city cats have any remorse in the clan cats eyes or yours

Wow. Okay.

Um, first things first, I will never be in support of Wiping Out any group of people. I get what you're trying to say but that's just not an ideology I can get behind. It is honestly a very dangerous and upsetting argument to make and hopefully, I can explain why.

Most of the city cats are not Evil. Most of the city cats are people who grew up in a corrupt system and have been taught to do bad things from a young age. Like Mystique for example: Has she hurt people? Yes. Does she seem resistant to change? Yes. Does this mean she is not worthy of compassion or a chance to grow and be better? Absolutely not!

I was raised Mormon. I know a lot of people, some who I love, who do bad things on the regular - people who voted for trump, people who support homophobic or imperialist policies, people who are hurtful to the marginalized people in their lives. I will NEVER believe that these people deserve to die for the way they are. They are just humans doing their best with the knowledge they were given and the baggage they've accrued.

I do think that there are cats, like Razor for instance, who need to be Stopped, certainly, and removed from positions of power. Unfortunately, cats don't have the ability to institute more systemic solutions to these kinds of problems so they will most often solve these problems by killing the cat. But this should only happen after it is clear that there is no opportunity for a non violent solution.

The world is complicated and messy and it means people are taught bad things and have trauma that makes them hurt other people. I'm not saying that those behaviors are okay. They should be held accountable for the harm that they do. But those behaviors do not make them irredeemable or Evil. Hell, I don't think there ARE Evil people! I don't think there are GOOD people! People can't be good or evil because they are always going to be making new choices. Some of those choices will hurt people, some of those choices will help people, some of those choices are entirely neutral. I believe you can judge people's actions but its impossible to judge their 'soul' so to speak.

There are a lot of cats in the city who do bad things because they see those things as normal or because the system rewards them for doing so. Do you think the Clans should kill all of those people?? Because I will never agree with you if you do and I urge you to rethink how you see the world.

Give me any city cat and I will be able to find a way to empathize with them. Yes, even Razor. They're all just people. And in my opinion, none of them deserve to die. They deserve to change and heal. And I think most of them will. I'm a death penalty abolitionist and that means I don't think ANYONE should be put to death. You don't get to selectively apply that kind of belief only to the people you think are 'good'.

Sorry for how long and rambling my response was. If anyone has follow up questions or comments, I'm open to discussing this further, just please remember to be kind and avoid any sort of harassment, and that goes both ways. Nobody harass this anon for what they said. I believe they are very misguided but that doesn't make them a bad person. If you think that then you've entirely missed the point of everything I said.

[angstyantoinette]

Yandere alucard please with a fairy darling?

wrote this while in college and severely sleep deprived :))

to the anon that requested this…very sorry for the delay ^^

Yandere! Alucard x GN Fairy Darling

As a Dhamphir, Alucard has a very confused and conflicted view of his own humanity; how his parent’s’ marriage shaped his life and beliefs, which is evident in his own personal experience in the story.

He is part human, “part monster” (as he puts it), and constantly uses both of his sides to try and compensate for his perceived weaknesses and strengths in order to create a balance.

This obsession with balancing his own personal interests, with the ones that he deems unsafe or safe to everyone else years him apart, and Alucard just doesn’t see the point in continuing his act of doing ‘the right thing’- he has nobody to do it for other than himself and the times that Sypha and Trevor come for a visit.

They keep him grounded, his dear friends and comrades; they help him remember the good times and deeds he has given to the world, to the people who were so close to losing their lives. They help him remember and remain alive in the memories of his sacrifices and pains that he had to overcome to murder his own father- the only one left from his childhood. A time that was idyllic, but secluded, kept away from the world and the rest of the scum that had stolen his mothers life.

Things are getting better, that’s what he thinks, as he sweeps through the rubble of his childhood home, it’s sloping walls and crumbling tapestries serving as a testament to a life long past that he can move on from. Things are getting much more complicated, as he tries to sort though the rubble and the familial ruin.

Alucard tries to move past his hurt and past betrayals, but they somehow always come back to bite at him some more, gnaw at his memories of his childhood and turn them into something beyond his control, beyond his pained comprehension.

It doesn't help much that much of the memorials of his past betrayals lay outside of the castle walls, staring out into the vast woods that surround him; and this isolation is a huge part of precisely why he becomes so attached to his darling.

However you meet each other, whichever way that you sweep into Alucard's life you just may as well be signing yourself away to the devil himself-a fitting analogy given the context of the story.

Alucard himself doesn’t mean to cause harm, not in any sense of the word. Everything that he says, does and thinks is the complete opposite, but while he may not be obviously setting out to cause you harm as a person…it doesn’t mean he realises his actions aren’t always right. He may even be self-aware of that fact, and be greatly pained and paranoid about how he makes you feel.

He doesn’t like the fact that he feels this urge to lock you up in his miserable, spindly castle, keep you and your fairy goodness all to himself. He knows it’s selfish, he knows it disgusting of him and yet he reasons and battle and negotiates with himself to try and justify his feelings and actions towards you.

You can beg, you can plead, you can sob and cry but whatever you do will not save you from this fate. You belong to Alucard, and he loves you so deeply, so dangerously that it makes the both of you feel sick. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make him feel sick enough for him to let you go. Let’s face it, who else will love you like he does?

He doesn’t exactly know how to love you right, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t adore you enough to know that you need to be kept away from the rest of the world. You need to rest, to stay with him whilst he admires your beautiful face, your spectral wings and their incredible patterns and own beauty that can only be described as otherworldly.

His kisses are always so desperate. Like he has never tasted anything like your fear Love before. Alucard knows that you get a bit nervous sometimes, but that’s just because you’re shy, isn’t it? He knows exactly what that’s like, the gut-twisting and the rampant heartbeats that he feels.

He’s probably one of the better yanderes to have, in all likelihood, but Alucard isn’t without his flaws, not in the least. He’s paranoid, deathly. He almost trembles at the idea of you getting out of your room to eat something, as he is insistent in bringing it to you. Just so he can double check those windows again.

And you sit sadly on the bed, in all of your finery and wondrous glory, trying your hardest not to sob as your blonde captor strokes your head and whispers his love for you until the moon is high in the sky and you can hear the birds coo outside. Your pointed ears twitch in tired anticipation, silently begging for the birds to come back, help you out of this nightmare.

The birds keep cooing and each night they get further away. They do not come back to help. You are stuck here, with him, forever.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[misscammiedawn]

it’s literally your own fault that you have trauma from personality play, idiot. why the fuck would you EVER engage in intense kink with people you didn’t trust/people who didn’t believe in hypnosis/etc. and not practice the most obvious safety precautions during lmao. moronic behavior honestly.

Wasn't 100% sure if I should reply or delete-- My rule is to delete anon-hate without a second thought and the moment the word 'idiot' was brought out it fell into that category. So firstly, no sympathy/support either for the message or the circumstances please. I'm not here for that and it undermines the point if people focus on that.

Buuut here's the thing. I know. This isn't an accusation or an insult or even mean. Everything you say is in the body of the Ethical Personality Play post. Like-- uuuh--- I dunno what to say? Congrats, you read the post?

Fact is these events happened 15+ years ago and the community lacked the support, education and structure that it has now. I'm trying to help build something which I needed back then. Will I save everyone? No. Can I help like one person? I hope so.

But like, I was a self-destructive moronic idiot 15+ years ago and I am sorta open about it?

Like here are direct quotes (key quotes bolded):

I have experience with this fallacy myself. In utilizing hypnosis to ignore my triggers I did severe damage to myself and I am now plagued with intrusive memories and nightmares of events that happened during scenes that I was able to effortlessly indulge in during the scene but as they say "The body keeps the score" and I was in fact doing further damage to myself. Something which my partner at the time was not equipped to deal with because I'd failed to disclose or even treat the situation as worth being safe about. Now I am just burdened with further damage by ignoring my brain's defenses on my existing pain.

Likewise I want to note the power imbalance that comes from play like this. A motivated hypnotee can fling themselves into this arena and do harm to the hypnotist. This does fly both ways. A hypnotee not advocating for themselves or exercising their agency will make a hypnotist accessory to the damage. This is a sin I have committed.

...look... I don't want to be an old lady yelling at the kids for doing things when I did them myself at that age. I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't pretend I didn't see the allure on both sides of the watch.

I just... there weren't 20+ year experienced hypnosis veterans who had been in my character play abusing position when I was growing up. No one warned me. I learned all this the hard way and I hurt people. People I loved. Moreover I hurt me. In ways that will never heal. I just want to spare anyone I can the pain of going through this.

So--- like

Yeah. You read the post and understood it. I'm glad you read the post and understood it.

The landscape was different back then but that's no excuse. We were a fucking dumb child who wanted to be anyone but ourselves and acted recklessly because of it. We were a dangerous and toxic hypnotee and we should have known better.

That's the lesson. That's the point. I'm not here to ask forgiveness from the people I hurt or sympathy for the fact we fucked up. We just want to help build framework that didn't exist when we were starting out.

History on the hypnokink community is a topic that probably does need to be taught-- but if you're young enough that you've never known a place without framework, education and support then I'm glad, honestly. It means a lot of good people, dedicated people, have done work building houses my silly little essays can only manage to move pebbles with. I'm glad for that. Really.

The post isn't there for you to think "Poor Cammie :(" it's there for you to think "What an idiot, I'm never going to be like her"

So-- yeah-- I don't post anon-hate as a rule-- so thank you for the fan mail. Knee-jerk reaction aside, it makes me happy that you got the point.

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Hi! Your requests are open right? If so could you write undertale headcanons about a reader who selfharms? Nothing too graphic or anything ofc and totally understand if you're not okay with this :)

I also saw that you did Au's so would it be okay to do this but with the skeleton brother's from undertale, underfell and underswap? (Not the version where people think blue acts like a kid tho please)

Again if you're not okay with this I 100% understand and won't be upset at all :) I write my own headcanons but I prefer reading other people's (I'm not stealing tho dw)

Sorry it's a lot of text and have a great day/night :)

you got it, anon! it totally bothers me when people write blue like he's a child, too.

(my first request on tumblr let's go)

undertale, underfell, and underswap skeleton brothers with a reader who self harms

TW for self harm. if you self harm, there is help. it can get better. talk to a friend or a loved one, or my DMs are open.

Undertale:

Sans:

-he had noticed you acting weird lately.

-distant, almost.

-when he finally pressed you about it, you broke down into tears and told him you self harm.

-"oh, kiddo. c'mere."

-he wraps you tightly in a hug.

-asks you what you use, and asks you to hand it over.

-he tells you that if you ever need anything, or even just to talk, he's free. it doesn't matter what it is, he'll make time for you.

Papyrus:

-he asked you for several weeks what the matter was

-you finally caved and told him

-he was frozen in shock. what could possibly make you do that to yourself? he doesnt understand.

-he suddenly engulfs you into a hug.

-"i will help you get better, human! i promise!"

-he asks you that while you start to heal (both physically and from whatever was going on mentally that made you do it) that you dont do it again.

-he starts cooking for you. like, a lot.

Underfell:

Sans:

-it was an accident that he saw it. your hoodie sleeve rolled up while you were grabbing something and he caught a glance of your injuries.

-he harshly grabs your wrist.

-"who the hell did this to you?"

-you were barely audible when you said that you did it to yourself.

-the harshness in his eyes softened.

-"kid... c'mon, there's better ways to cope."

-he won't admit it to you, but after the monsters were freed from the underground, the stress of it all brought him to self harm for a period of time, too.

-which is why it's all the more important to him that you stop.

-becayse he knows what a slippery slope it is.

-"kid, you gotta promise me you'll cut that out. we can get you help. i ain't much of a therapist, but goddamn it, for you, i'll try."

Papyrus:

-he had to pull an aggressive monster off of you.

-he knew that because he was a member of the royal guard, and therefore disliked by many, that you would be a target.

-he had to take your hoodie off so he could tend to the wounds on your arms.

-"it's fine. don't worry about it," you had said.

-"no, you must let me do this. it is my fault he hurt you. you must let me help you."

-knowing he wouldn't give in, you relented.

-it was when you took your hoodie off that he saw your injuries, even though you tried your best to hide them.

-"human, these have been here for quite a while. who did this to you?" anger was evident in his tone, though he tried to hide it, so you wouldn't think it was directed at you.

-he obviously didn't believe you when you said it was an incident with a stray cat.

-"it's... i do it to myself, dammit!" you said. tears filled your eyes and your voice wavered.

-"that is unacceptable! you must quit this right now, do you understand me?"

-he didn't mean to sound so harsh, only stern. but if it got the point across, it didn't matter much to him.

-"now, tell me, why is it you do this?"

-he listens closely as you open up to him. he'll make you feel better, one way or another.

Underswap:

Sans:

-he knew something was off about you. what it was, though, he couldn't quite figure out.

-so, he asked you.

-"it's nothing," you had said. "nothing you need to worry about."

-"but don't you trust me?" he asked.

-that made you hesitate.

-a few days later, you told him. you didn't show him, but you told him.

-"but why would you do that to yourself? you are amazing, human! you have so much good in you. can't you see that? can't you see that you don't deserve it?"

-but you told him that you didn't know what he saw. you didn't see the good in you. and you're you! don't you know yourself best?

-he started listing off your great qualities, arguing with you when you wondered what the fuck he was going on about.

-he vowed that, no matter how long it took, he would make you see yourself as worthy again.

-but until then, he just made you promise to stop.

Papyrus:

-he had his suspicions for a while.

-the way you always wore long sleeves, no matter how hot it was.

-how distant you were, never telling anybody how you felt.

-he knew something was going on. so, he decided to see if his suspicions were true.

-it took a little coaxing, but you confirmed them. you were, in fact, self harming.

-he (like Fell Sans) also used to self harm. and he told you that.

-he asks you why, and he listens carefully as you tell him.

-he rubs your back from his position next to you on his couch as he says, "i need you to stop, okay? i understand it's going to be hard. i understand that it feels like you have to. but you can't, okay? you just can't. only once you stop can you start feeling better about yourself."

-he takes whatever you use away from you, and watched you closely, occasionally asking you to let him look for more scars.