#bad to the core fic

[brothebro]

Listen… im weak and i have dan/jason brainrot

Am i gonna have the boys traumadump to each other? U bet i am

Also they’re gonna have pirozhki

Pirozhok good pirozhok tasty

[gauloiseblue]

You always joked about how you'd find out what's beneath his mask someday. Literally and figuratively.

He'd scoff at your attempts, or suggestions to lift up his sniper mask. Some of them caught him off guard, to the point he almost did it if not for his logical mind. But some of them were downright ridiculous, that he couldn't help but snort.

Maybe you already accepted it from the start, that he would never give in, but it had become a harmless jest at this point, so you might as well keep it going.

Until he gives you permission.

The thing is, it doesn't make you happy—it scares you to death instead. He once bit off someone's finger when they poked it in the place they shouldn't have touched. So what's behind the mask couldn't be worth the pain.

At first, you thought of it as a warning. Yet he wasn't showing any signs of threat. He even pulled you closer, so you'd get a better view of him.

His mask stays on, but he lets you touch his face. Your hands hover an inch away from his veiled visage, before you test the water with a touch.

He doesn't flinch away, or charge at you like a venomous snake. He stays still, letting your hands cup his cheeks.

"Didn't you say you wanna feel my face?" He said as he brought you closer, causing a shiver down on your spine.

"I did," Your lips trembled slightly, "I'm doing it."

"You're not doing it right." He tugged your paralyzed hands onto his chest.

You're confused when he firmly grips both of your hands, before slowly sliding them under the hem of his hood.

"Inside, maus." He commanded you, "Tell me what you feel."

And so, you complied.

You reach into his mask, and touch his neck tentatively. For a brief moment, his muscles tense under your fingertips, before they come down relaxed.

"Oh." You murmured as you pressed your palm onto his nape, "You can certainly survive a fighter jet ride."

He doesn't give you any response, so you take it as a cue to continue.

Your hands creep up higher, until your fingers reach the soft bones of his ears. They seem small in your grasp, smaller than they should, for a man of his height. A quiet smile spreads in your lips, as you imagine the tiny shells that frame both sides of his face.

"I'm surprised you have clear skin." You commented when you caressed his cheek, feeling the texture of his skin, "I thought you'd have a problem with it since you always wore a mask."

"Not always." He replied, nudging you to roam further, "I took it off whenever I'm alone."

"Did you take care of it?"

"No."

"How unfair." You chuckled, "I want to have your skin."

He keeps his eyes on you, and you feel the need to clear your throat, before you trace the lines on his face.

"You have a big nose." You mused as you ran your finger down from the bridge of his nose, "It's crooked."

He hums, while his eyes follow your uncertain gaze.

"Why you stopped?" He called you out, and you jumped upon hearing them, "There's one place you haven't touched."

You bit your lips, trembling, as you lowered your hand, until you felt the soft lumps on your fingertips.

They form a thin line, before they split open, inviting your finger inside. Your breathing becomes labored, as he takes a hold on your hand, guiding your thumb into his mouth.

He doesn't break eye contact the whole time, and you're too paralyzed to look away. You feel the sharpness of his teeth as his lips are closing around your digit. You have anticipated the guillotine falling on the head of your thumb, yet what comes after is a soft brush of his tongue.

It was rough, and drenched with his saliva, that it formed a string at the time your thumb left his mouth.

"König—" You gasped when he dragged his lips down to your palm, before stopping on your wrist. Pressing his tongue on your pulse point, where the skin barrier is so thin, that it feels as if he's tasting your flesh.

"Scared, maus?" He muttered, his teeth scraped against your skin, "Are you scared of me?"

You stare at him, as your instinct screams at you to nod. But you shake your head, despite the tremble in your hands.

"Then you'll do as I say." He wraps his arm around your waist, leaving no room for you to run, "Take off my mask."

Your eyes widened, not believing what you just heard from his mouth. Alas, his glare is enough to confirm the truth.

He guides your hands to his mask, pushing it up in a manner that's close to unveiling a white cover. And once the mask is lifted, you have no time to admire him as he slams his lips against yours.

Your cry of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, as he pushes his tongue between your lips. You can't do anything but cling to him, as he presses your body down with his, until your back is flush against the cushion.

When you open your eyes, what greets you is a pair of eclipses. Gone was the cruel Colonel, as he's replaced by a voracious brute.

The moment he opens his mouth, you know you'll be devoured by him.

[lunarharp]

hehe. almost christmas!

[afterartist]

I wrote a Chat fic and the first chapter doesn’t even have a group chat in it-

I’m great at being an author

‘And because I can, have the rough sketch that goes with it :D

[nari-writes]

Was meant to be self-sacrifice and somehow turned into Shenanigans instead: welcome the yj core 4 being three badly-raised teenage guys and one "normal" teenage girl who Does Not Deserve This Level Of Mortification (also, there's a vampire)

----

"Okay," Tim says, and then again, a bit more breathlessly, "okay. We can do this. It's fine. It's fine? No-one's injured, and without blood their tracking won't be-"

"Shit," Cassie says. Tim's attention immediately snaps to her, which is not what she wants but also entirely what she expects.

"What?" he asks. "Did you get hurt? Are you okay?"

"No," she says, humiliation making her cheeks burn, and Tim gets even more concerned.

"No what?" he asks, and then, too fast for her to get an answer in, "No to you being okay? No to having an injury? Cassie-"

Oh god this is the worst, she thinks, because this is the punchline to the world's most misogynistic joke - an alien, a too-old baby, a socially awkward teen therapist, and a girl with- "I'm on my period," she says, and hates how squirmy embarrassment feels in her stomach.

Kon stares at her, looking vaguely panicked. Bart at least just cocks his head, but Tim can't even look at her, and he's turning pink under his mask-

"How- much blood?" Tim asks, sounding as awkwardly as she feels, and Cassie hisses.

"I don't measure it! I dunno, Robin, enough for a freaking blood-sniffing vampire to track-"

"Just turn it off?" Bart says, and Cassie makes an offended noise in the back of her throat.

"Wait, she can do that?" Kon asks, now looking even more panicked.

"No!" Tim and Cassie say in unison.

"I wish," Cassie adds, and this time it's Bart's turn to reel back.

"So you just bleed?" he asks, aghast.

Cassie's tone probably matches his when she asks, "Imp, has no-one had the talk with you yet? Is there no sex ed in the future?"

"Shots not," Tim says, and Cassie immediately repeats the phrase, desperately.

"What!" Kon says, "No, no, no, no, I am not- I can't! You want me to teach him? I don't even know if human sex ed is different from Kryptonian sex ed!"

"Not like Superman gave you many pointers on either," Tim mutters, because he takes every chance he can get to snub Clark, and Cassie steps on his foot.

"Nobody has to tell me about anything," Bart says crossly, "I'll just go to the library and teach myself-"

"Vampire!" says Tim, grabbing Bart's bicep before he can flash from the room. "Oh my god do not go out there right now."

[lizstiel]

[crawling out of the dirt covered in blood] i did it i wrote that fucking fourteen/rose fic that lived in my head and heart since the first special i'm done i can let it go i'm free

[touchlikethesun]

no the reason sirius gets angry at james for being with regulus is because. sirius knows james is a kind person with strong morals. he also remembers regulus as a kid, sweet and kind, before he was forced to hide all that, change or be crushed under their parents expectations. but if james is with regulus, then something of that kid must still remain. if james is with regulus, that must mean that regulus was never completely a lost cause. if regulus opened up to james, that must mean that james did something right where sirius did it wrong. it hurts sirius, because he thought he was the person that knew regulus best and thought that he was the only one capable of saving regulus, so when he failed, well that meant regulus was too far buried already. but here’s proof that that wasn't true. so it must be that sirius just wasn’t good enough.

sirius gets mad at james because james was somehow better than him. sirius gets mad because regulus is the one choosing james over him. sirius gets mad because this is just one more example of how hes failed regulus over and over again.

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 A Star Fell by CordialCoroner (CordialCrow)

💙 A Star Fell

by CordialCoroner (CordialCrow)

M, Series, WIP, 84k, Wangxian

Summary: After the altercation with Jin Zixuan, Wei Wuxian is sent back to Lotus Pier. No one has seen him since. Kay's comments: I just love stories that put Wei Wuxian through a meat grinder a little bit. He's my absolute favourite, I love it when he gets through it <3 Here we have him getting sent home early after he punched Jin Zixuan, only this time, Madam Yu was here to vent her anger on him and let's just say, she goes overboard and Wei Wuxian ends up disabled as a consequence. He has to effectively give up being a night-hunting cultivator and instead trains to become a healer. This is also how he meets Wen Qing and Wen Ning earlier and an amazing canon divergence follows with him working closely together with the other inhabitants of Lotus Pier to get people evacuated when the Wens attack. A great story, with wonderful Yiling silibings, Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan and Mianmian friendship and just some really cool changes. Excerpt: Wei Wuxian was intelligent, this Suyin knew, but she was unprepared for the absolute hunger the boy had for knowledge. He consumed books rapidly, not only reading their contents but wanting to discuss them, to dissect the argument, and dig deeper with anyone willing to listen. He requested and was eventually allowed paper and ink, and spent hours scribbling down various ideas and occasional pieces of art, occasionally gifted to some of the prettier healers. He even offered an admittedly well-crafted drawing of Suyin’s favorite flowers, azaleas, though how he knew them to be her favorites, she was unsure. “You have the same type of flower embroidered on your sleeves, so I took a guess based on the ones I knew with petals like that.” Wei Wuxian admitted with a grin, pleased to have guessed correctly. Yes, he was observant and clever, running through books and papers quickly, and absolutely loathing to be left unoccupied for long. “Healer Jiang, Healer Jiang, aren't there any other books for me to read?” He asked with a pout unsuited for his age. Suyin tutted at him, “What of the books Tao gave you? Don’t tell me you’ve gotten through them already.”

pov alternating, canon divergence, no golden core transfer, major character injury, disability, injury recovery, bad parents jiang fengmian & yu ziyuan, not jiang cheng friendly, somebody lives/not everybody dies, sunshot campaign, slow burn, healer wei wuxian, mutual pining, medical professionals, angst with a happy ending, jin zixuan & lan wangji friendship, families of choice, hurt/comfort, wip

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[sweet-sammy-kisses]

Ever wonder 'bout what he's doin'?

Title: Ever wonder 'bout what he's doin'? For @badthingshappenbingo prompt rejected apology Fandom: 9-1-1 Pairing: Buck x Eddie with past Buck x Abby Rating: Teen Summary: Abby left Buck behind when she left LA but she never truly let him go, planning on keeping him as a backup. She never counted on Buck moving on or being the one who fully let her go.

Or

Abby's return to LA goes very differently with Buck happy engaged to Eddie. Warning: It could be seen as Abby bashing. Word Count: 2,528 You can also read it on AO3

Abby Clark had never regretted leaving LA behind like she did or ghosting Buck because it made her feel special knowing that she had someone as handsome as Buck waiting for her. He was so deeply in love with her that he waited and held out hope for her. Then she met Sam and she found something she never had with Buck's steadiness and someone she could settle down with. Buck was for fun and to make her feel important that she had a young sex firefighter in her bed.

She never planned on seeing Buck again until that horrible night of the train crash when she met another man from the 118th. And despite being out of her mind in worry about Sam she couldn't notice how handsome he was and wondered what it was about the 118th managed to land such handsome men.

"My fiancé!" She hadn't meant to scream that at Buck or let him know that he had been replaced by someone she could build a life with but she couldn't lose Sam. She saw the way Buck's eyes clouded over with pain but it didn't matter she needed to save Sam. Her future was slipping away from her.

She knew what she had to do and she wasn't afraid to use Buck's feelings for her to twist him into doing what she needed him to do. And that was to save the man she had replaced him with.

The other firefighter who was with Buck glared darkly at her, hate burning in his dark eyes had her taking a step back. She hadn't even spoken to him and he seemed to despise her.

"Buck, you don't have to do this. You don't need to put yourself in danger." The man informed him as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't let her get into your head. Think of Christopher. He needs you. I need you."

"Eddie." Buck looked so torn as he looked at the other man. "If I can save him I have to try. You know this. You know me."

Cupping Buck's cheek in his hands Eddie gave Buck a soft smile, "I do."

Buck flashed Eddie a cheeky smile, "You don't need to say that yet. That isn't for another week."

Confused, Abby wasn't sure what was happening and could only stare at the two men. This didn't sound like a man missing her, waiting for her to come back to him. But that didn't matter right now all that mattered was getting Buck to agree to save Sam. "What about Sam? Are you just going to let him die because you are so petty that I fell in love with someone else? I thought you were better than that, I guess I was wrong.  You clearly never grew up."

A deep growl escaped Eddie as he took a protective stance in front of Buck, anger filling him as he watched Buck fold in on himself and try to make himself smaller, "You have no idea what you are talking about. You left Buck behind and came back here expecting him to still be waiting for you. He isn't, he moved on." Eddie took a step closer, "You have no idea how special he is, you are blind because all you cared about was having a hot firefighter as a boyfriend. Well, he got over you and moved on and he is happier than he ever was with you."

"Eds." Buck placed a comforting hand on Eddie's back, "She isn't worth it, we have people to save."

Stepping back away from Abby Eddie gave Buck a soft smile, "You're right. Let's go."

Abby could say nothing as Buck walked away from her, never once looking back at her or promising to bring Sam back to her. This wasn't the Buck she once had wrapped around her finger and she didn't know what to think.

+*****+

Somehow in the end Buck had managed to bring Sam back to her, yes he was hurt but he was safe. What stunned her the most was the fact that Buck never once came to check on her. That wasn't the Buck she left behind. 'Later it is time to focus on Sam.' She told herself. Taking Sam's hand in hers she held on tightly, she had come close to losing him.

Once she was sure that Sam was out of danger she pulled out her phone and sought out the contact information she hadn't looked at for almost two years and pulled up Buck's name. Biting her lower lip she began to write out a message to him.

Buck, this isn't how I thought we would meet again. Can we talk? Meet up to clear the air?

The ball was in Buck's corner. She had done the mature thing and reached out to her ex. It was up to him if he wanted to keep on being childish.

+******+

"Abby wants to meet." Buck had read the message, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his ex, the first woman he ever loved and ghosted him, had come crashing back into his life with a fiancé. Not that it mattered, he had moved on from her and found true love, the kind you only hear about in fairytales. He had found his soulmate in Eddie. That still didn't mean Abby’s actions hadn't left a scar it was healing but still lingered.

Eddie was currently wearing nothing but a towel that hung low on his hips and droplets of water fell down his chest. Buck swallowed hard all he wanted to do was drag Eddie into bed and trace those droplets with his tongue.

As if sensing Buck's thoughts Eddie smirked as he moved closer to the bed, "So Abby wants to meet? Are you up for it?" Eddie knew how much Abby ghosting him had hurt Buck.

"Huh?" Buck's brain had blue-screened at the sight of a nearly naked Eddie. Shaking his head he forced himself back onto the subject. "I think so. I need to know why she left me hanging onto hope for her to return. Learning about the fiancé the way I did hurt and it hurt that she tried to use the feelings I once had for her to save him. She knew that I would already do everything to save everyone but she still used my feelings for her. What I really want is an apology from her but I don't think I will get one from her."

Eddie knew that his feelings for Abby Clark were negative; he never understood how she could turn her back on someone as amazing as Buck, but her loss was his gain. "I think Abby needs to hear how you feel and if she offers a heartfelt apology then it is up to you if you want to accept it or not. I will support you no matter what you decide."

Buck smiled at Eddie he was grateful to have such an understanding man, "Thank you. Now enough about Abby, you are tempting me Mr. Diaz and I think the towel needs to go." Buck crawled closer to the edge of the bed and tugged on Eddie's towel until it fell to the floor.

Cupping Buck's face in his hands Eddie gave Buck a loving smile, "In one more week I won't be the only Mr. Diaz in this house."

"I think we need to practice for our honeymoon." Buck purred as his hands landed on Eddie's hips.

"That sounds like a perfect plan," Eddie growled as he lowered his head and claimed Buck's mouth with his own.

Abby's message went unanswered until morning as Buck had much more important things to focus on, like his sexy fiancé.

+******+

Abby absolutely did not obsessively check her phone looking to see if Buck had responded to her message.

And she certainly didn't feel jealousy and angry at the idea that Buck might have something or someone more important than her. After all that was ridiculous she should be happy Buck moved on from her. She has Sam now, whom she is going to spend the rest of her life with, Buck's love life and personal life were no longer any of her business.

Still when her phone alerted her to a new message she lunged for her phone and with shaking hands unlocked her phone and sought out the message.

Abby, can we meet tomorrow at the bench at the old park we used to visit at noon?

Abby's heart skipped a beat as she thought of seeing Buck again.

That works for me. I will see you there.

She was a little disappointed when all she got back from Buck was a thumbs up. "It doesn't matter I'll talk to him tomorrow and he will see the reason why I moved on to Sam."

Abby couldn't deny that the words tasted like ash on her lips.

+*****+

Buck was waiting for her and the sun hit him just right making his golden hair gleam and making him look like Apollo brought to life. Taking a deep breath Abby steeled herself as she made her way over to where Buck was waiting for her. "Buck?" She called softly as she approached.

Her breath caught as Buck turned to look at her and even though his smile was dim it still managed to out shine the sun that he was bathed in.

"Hello Abby, do you want to sit down?" Buck asked still the gentle man.

Sitting down on the bench Abby made sure to keep some distance between them, she didn't want Buck to get the wrong idea of why they were meeting. "It's good to see you, Buck."

"Is it?"

Abby could only blink she hadn't expected that question and as Buck shifted to look at her, she could see in his eyes that he was far from done.

"Would I have even heard from you if the train accident hadn't happened? Did you ever plan out and reach out to me or did you just plan to leave me hanging? Leaving me with the hope that one day you would come back or at least reach out to me. I loved you Abby, you were the first person I truly loved, you made me a better person. I fell in love with you so easy Abby and I thought I would be enough for you as you would be for me but I was wrong on both accounts."

For a moment Abby could only stare at Buck. "What do you mean?"

"The love I felt for you was nothing but a spark that burned for a little while and died out little by little with every ignored text and unanswered call. But it truly extinguished the day I met Eddie, the man I am going to marry in a week. He and his son Christopher have become my whole world. My love for them is a nebula that shines in the night sky." Taking a deep breath Buck looked at Abby, really looking at the woman he once loved. "I am glad that Sam is safe and that you have found happiness and love that you couldn't find with me but you broke my heart Abby, you left me waiting for someone who wasn't coming back. I moved on and while I want to believe that part of you cared about me I can't help but doubt the way you used the feelings I used to have for you against me to save your fiancé."

Buck knew from the way Abby flushed that he was right and he felt used. "I wish you happiness Abby but I think this is where we say goodbye and go our separate ways. I have no place in your new life and you have none in mine."  

Abby couldn't believe this was happening she had expected Buck to be happy to see her, not this. "Aren't you going to let me apologize?"

"Would you mean it? Would you tell me that you are sorry for ghosting me? That you are sorry for just dropping out of my life without a word? That you planned on telling me that you were engaged to marry someone else?" Buck's blue eyes were pleading with her.

Abby closed her mouth because she hadn't planned on saying anything like that.

Giving her a sad smile Buck, "Goodbye Abby," before he turned away and walked away from her.

Frozen in place Abby watched as Buck's body langue changed at the sight of the handsome man that seemed to be waiting for him. It took Abby a moment to place him as the firefighter who had been there that night with Buck, who once he learned her name seemed to hate her. She watched as he opened up his arms and Buck flew into them and he tucked Buck safely against his chest and kissed Buck deeply.

They fit together in ways that she and Buck never did. It was like watching the moon embracing the sun. As Buck tucked his head into the neck of his boyfriend dark eyes met Abby's and they shone with love and protectiveness. They screamed at her, 'you hurt him but you will never get the chance to again,' watching Buck with this mysterious man she knew that she had lost whatever hold she might have had on Buck for good.

"You okay?" Eddie asked as he tightened his grip on Buck as he watched Abby walk away.

Pulling away enough to look Eddie in the eyes Buck smiled softly at him, "Yeah, I got the answers I needed."

Pressing a kiss against Buck's forehead Eddie asked softly, "And what answers were they?"

"That while Abby was my first love she wasn't my greatest or the love of my life. She doesn't have a hold on me anymore I have fully moved on from her. I love you and only you Eddie and I can't wait to be your husband."

"Good." Eddie growled, "Because I never plan on letting you go."

Buck gazed fondly at the love of his life, "Good because I plan the same."

+*****+

One Week Later

Abby didn't know why she did it but she found herself browsing Buck's social media and there on his Instagram page was a photo of him and the mystery man locked in a passionate kiss with an adorable little boy cheer at their side, all of them were dressed in suits in the backyard that Abby recognized as Buck's captain's. It was the caption that had her choking back a sob.

Just married the love of my life.

She had moved on and left Buck behind, always thinking that Buck would never move on from her, that he would always be there as a backup, waiting for her. But she had been wrong Buck was no backup he flourished and found a family that she had no part of. It was time to let Buck go as he had done with her and as a single tear fell she knew she had no one to blame but herself.

[helloitisiafellowgay]

another part of my Steve gets Vecna’d AU, where i provide very little context lmaoo sorry

i’ve been working on this for OVER A YEAR and still have a few scenes to finish 😭 my draft rn is almost 19k so I’ll hopefully get it out before like November at this rate :)

vague context: this is the night before The Big Fight TM and people like JUST found out that steves possessed and eddie is cleaning steve’s demobat wounds

other post

——————

“Do you—“ the drug dealer looks conflicted, debating whether to poke at a neglected bruise. “Why didn’t anyone notice?”

There’s a knot in his throat, a tightening of his larynx. “What do you mean?”

”That you were hallucinating? Having nightmares?” Before, Eddie wouldn’t meet his gaze. Now, he won’t let Steve look away, slowly regaining his certainty, his intensity. “Why was I the only one to even consider anything was wrong? You’re not that great of an actor— you aren’t, don’t look at me like that— and they’ve known you so much longer than I have.”

And isn’t that the question he’d been shoving out of his own mind since the beginning of this whole mess? That small seed of doubt, pushing forward and flourishing now that someone else had stopped to water it.

He knows, he knows— they don’t care about him as much as he cares about them. Sees it in the way the kids dismiss him as soon as they arrive at their destination, only call on him when they want something; the way he gives it every single time regardless.

Each girl in his bed, driving him like a crash-test car; the excuse to leave, the cold sheets in the morning. A freezing bathroom at a party, the echo of bullshit refracting off the cold tile.

The crack of ceramic against his skull, the fist in his sternum, the stifling ash in his lungs in a buried tunnel. Interrogation tactics, missing fingernails, drugged out of his mind; flesh monster, the loss of the one male adult he could actually depend on.

And before it all, the steel door, the silhouette, the—

No.

No, Steve knows that he is, at his core, what he has always been: unloveable.

After the reactivity, the intentional cruelty of his youth, he expects nothing other than a warning label.

Danger: do not interact. Prone to violence.

Steve is his father’s son, after all. They share the same ruthless ferocity, the same scarred knuckles.

He has spent so long convincing the world that anything can be turned into a weapon, and he started with his hands; if he squints long enough, blood pools itself into the crevices of his palms, fingernails curving into sharp edges and the remnants of whiskey bottles.

A product of his environment, no doubt; the weight of his family name, absent parents, superficial friends.

King Steve with a hollow crown, sat in his pristine castle with everything a teen could ask for except anyone to make him feel worth following. Like something other than a cheap toy, a pretty face, a chore to be put off until a more convenient time.

It’s fact of his life, something he felt no reason to doubt when people keep proving it to him, over and over and over.

He’s useful— for rides to the arcade, for a place to hangout when everywhere else has been vetoed, to wield a baseball bat studded with nails, the last line of defense, the one who can be counted on to take the hit— but not their friend. Not wanted, not valuable, and certainly not lovable.

So how can he possibly justify this unwavering loyalty, his propensity to follow them around like a stray dog waiting on table scraps? Why he keeps coming back, offering every part of himself when none of them would do the same for him?

Steve shrugs. “They all have their own shit going on, they can’t help it. I didn’t want to make things complicated.”

The drug dealer frowns, already shaking his head in disagreement. “That’s not— not good enough. They’re not too busy, they just don’t…”

Care.

They just don’t care.

Steve catches the moment that the other boy sees the bundle of scars peeking just over the hem of his boxers. Tears his own focus away from those small, circular burns; old enough to be suspicious, obvious enough that even a ten-year-old could come to the correct conclusion about their origin without much effort.

A kid with cigarette burns— not common, but definitely not rare.

A rich kid with cigarette burns? That just doesn’t happen.

“Doesn’t Vecna go after people with trauma? It’s not like Steve—”

His stomach roils, a distant nausea working its way up his esophagus. The younger teen holds his breath and waits, but Eddie doesn’t ask, just furrows his brow and grazes over the puckered skin with a single, calloused thumb.

Steve shivers, bites his lip, fights the urge to dislodge the soft touch and flee the room. He doesn’t.

Eddie goes back to taping the raw edges of his wounds closed.

A sick, twisted heat takes root in his stomach; invasive and insatiable, it chokes out his heart until it has nowhere left to go except up into his throat, and flourishes in the abandoned cavity left behind.

“Do you think when he chose me… do you think he knew?” Steve’s a conglomeration of dull apathy and the underlying static of panic; he feels like he’s back under the water, suspended in time and trying desperately not to drown. “That I wouldn’t say anything? Wouldn’t want to tell them, you, about… That… that they don’t…?”

The musician pulls out a roll of gauze, presses one end to his rib cage with more care than anyone has shown him in a long time.

“I think that you hide so much from everyone, more than anyone thinks that you do. And I think that, to someone like him, it’s easy to mistake that for shame.”

Oh.

“And what if I am?” Steve clenches his jaw, flattens his lips to disguise their infernal trembling. “Ashamed… of being known? Afraid that people will hate what they find, if I were to let people in— share those parts of myself?”

The last of the sunset dissipates from the sky, leaves the world outside of the window cast in a deep indigo.

A murmur, almost subconsciously, from his healer: “Isn’t everyone?”

He is some sort of wretched thing— must be, to warrant this raw, gnawing ache in his core. The withering, the erosion at the fringes of his being, exposing the live-wire at the heart of him.

Pressure, as the dressing is applied to his wounds. The light brush of skin against skin.

“You aren’t an inconvenience, you know.” Eddie wraps the last of the bandage around his abdomen, secures it in place. “You are allowed to ask for help. And other people want to help, if you let them.”

The babysitter hums, a non-answer, omitted confirmation. Can do little else, lest he wilt under the force of this personification of a star.

“I might not know why none of the kids said anything, but...“ Off to the side, the discarded towel is depositing water on the floor. When Eddie reaches for it, there’s a damp patch on his jeans that the babysitter stares at while his hands are taken, dabbed at with damp cotton. “Robin, Nancy, and I literally followed you into hell. You’re not taking anything from us that we wouldn’t freely give.”

The older boy’s gaze is wild, reverent. From where he is crouched in front of Steve, it must look like he’s kneeling before a monarch, a King.

What a resolute act of devotion: tending to the wounds of a martyr, washing the blood from each finger as if every millimeter of exposed skin is something worth defending.

Steve doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve such absolution; this exoneration from all of the sin coating his fingers and dripping from his teeth. He is nothing more than a child devouring overripe berries in another family’s garden, filling his vacant stomach with sweet crimson nectar that he will never be able to justify aching for.

He is no deity, no patron saint or messiah. He’s barely a king. ”I’m not worth—“

He has never been religious— or, at least definitely not after the monsters came into the picture. But he knew then, knows now— there is no heavenly father, no almighty God, that could give him back that purity, that holy golden ichor.

Whenever Steve had plead to this creator, prayed for help while pinned to the ground under the malicious intent of another— there was no response. Just the echo of his faith, his questions, being tossed back at him, neglected and unanswered.

”You’re worth everything, Steve Harrington.” Eddie’s intensity, his conviction, makes Steve’s heart lurch somewhere in his chest. “There is nothing you could ask from us that you haven’t deserved a hundred times over.”

The cloth, damp and abrasive against his palms, collects strawberry residue within its woven fibers.

His crown must be less hollow than he thought.

There is no god that can restore his virtue, slip the innocence back into his pockets, baptize him in the light of unconditional love— but Eddie… Eddie is just a man.

Just a man, who wiped each of his fingers clean; dressed his wounds with such gentle hands. Just a man, who kissed each bruise, each old scar, without the intent to hurt.

Just a man who held him, who pulled him back when his whole body was on the edge of a precipice.

Who answered his questions without judgement— without stripping him of his divinity, casting him down from the heavenly throne and into the sulphuric pits of eternal damnation.

Just this boy, who looks at him like he is worth more here, in this moment, than he ever would be nailed to a cross.

What god has ever done that for him?

[un-pearable]

i am fine admitting i have a shameful love of shitty crossover fic in which characters get to show up in media i like slightly less and then one-up all the characters there by being competent badasses in ways you don’t usually get to see bc in their normal universe you’re usually watching from said characters pov. but i absolutely loathe reincarnation fic with the same premise. no i do not want to read about midoriya izuku with sonic the hedgehog’s memories just give me sonic the hedgehog

[brothebro]

Woop woop woop! Chapter 2 is here

Dan dropping truths:

[yoru-no-seiiki]

hi hi! i wanna post more here but don’t know what you guys would like from me.

so send in some asks! you could go to @hana-no-seiiki for more of my yan! ocs too.

preferably something more on the darker side + smutty if not full on pwp i’m down for that.

[voidfragments]

ok but i actually have sm to say about qi rong's relationship with anger. i could honestly just link a fic i wrote about it here bc i think i worded it better there than i ever can again but my ao3 links to my main twt and i prefer to keep rp stuff separate from my personal stuff for reasons sooooo lemme try to write it differently

cw for mentions of domestic violence bc holy shit like 99% of his character traces back to that in some way

the key thing is, of course, that anger is a trauma response for qi rong. he has every reason to be fucking pissed at like, all times, but fundamentally, his anger is not rational. rage and violence are all he knows! his earliest childhood memories are of being abused and seeing his mother be abused! even when he got out of that, he and his mother were bullied and ostracized, and his mother was eventually murdered. violence and cruelty shape his early childhood and in turn shape who he is today (enabled in large part by the queen's reluctance to properly discipline him when he began exhibiting cruel behavior himself).

in many cases, it's about revenge--getting "even", though he usually takes it much farther than the original offense. his father was abusive? he'll delight in warring against people from the same town as him. the yong'an rebellion tore away the one good thing he had in his life--his royal status? he'll crush their entire royal & noble classes in a single night. xie lian fell off the pedestal he held him on, "failed" and "abandoned" him? unforgivable.

very often, it's simply lashing out. the world has been cruel to him, so he'll be cruel too.

mostly, though, his anger just keeps him going. if he doesn't have his anger, then what does he have? sadness, loneliness, despair, heartbreak, misery.

being a ghost adds another angle to it, too--he can't let go of his anger, even if he wants to. well, he could, but then he'd disappear, and he doesn't want that. not yet. it's his source of life. it's also his source of power! and it's easy to forget with how often the rest of the cast and the narrative itself dunks on him, but he has a lot of power. #4 in the entire ghost realm! a near-supreme, one successful furnace trip away from becoming a full-fledged ghost king!

just--imagine, for a moment, being him. an abused kid--powerless--who suddenly learns that he's actually a prince--powerful!--and then, before even reaching adulthood, his kingdom crumbles, and he eventually dies just as powerless as he started. and then all that resentment causes him to come back even more powerful than before. it's no wonder he leans into it.

idk this is getting long-winded but i guess what i'm trying to say is--his anger is both justified and overblown, it is both understandable and irrational, it is something he needs to hold onto no matter how much it hurts him. he is his anger.

[fg083nrt]

Are all the akatsuki members underweight? I remember reading that Hidan weighed around 57kg at 177cm and that Kakuzu weighed less than 65kg at 185 cm which is wild

Tbh I can’t tell if it’s because it’s a manga and Kishimoto just made everyone weigh less than what is realistic or if it’s because Kakuzu is mainly made up of threads so he doesn’t weigh that much

When thinking about these things, you need to take into account:

1. Averages for the country of origin.

Different regions have different distributions for traits like this. Averages vary based on what they are in comparison to. An average in one place will be seen as "abnormal" in a different place. So like, people from Nothern China tend to be, on average, taller than people in Southern China, so on and so forth.

2. Time period.

Naruto takes place in a psudo-feudal type Japan setting. The distribution for weight and height used to be different if you take the era into account. (If you are a keener, you can do a nutritional thought exercise based on what people commonly ate in feudal Japan, but I'm not good at it, and my weightlifting friends who know nutrition have weird regiments.)

3. Target audience for the story

This is the main explanation, but when you are creating a story with an audience of teenagers in mind, you need to take into account how they perceive the world. It doesn't have to be ultra-realistic. It can just exist to be related to by a teenager. It's part of the reason protags and all the characters are so young. On average, people tend to enjoy things where they can establish a quick connection to the character. To them, smaller numbers make more sense and are easier to comprehend.

Think of when you were 13 watching Naruto and thought 35-year-old Sasori was an old, ancient man. To how now, you look at the ages and height/weight ratios like, "This makes no sense/is concerning."

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Tumblr! Let me edit my own fucking reblog! I need to add more tags on that post!!!