#because caring for someone maked them suffered and now they don't want to start a new relationship where they could hurt again

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: MC gets temporary amnesia

~ Requested by @selfcarecollective and an anon! For headcanon purposes, MC slipped on a cobblestone and hit their head. The amnesia only lasts a week at most and MC remains basically functional until their memories return as their injury heals ~

Julian

The only reason he's staying as calm as he is is because he has years of practice slipping into "doctor mode" for his patients

When he's with you, he's wholly focused on caring for you. His voice stays steady and grounding, he's quick to notice any confusion and explain, he cracks jokes to lift your spirits

And when he's not with you - well - he doesn't know what to do

You don't remember him. You don't know who he is beyond who he appears to be to you now, the extraordinary circumstances of your romance have been wiped from your mind, and -

And how does he know? How does he know that you'll choose him again? How does he know that any affection you show him isn't out of your new dependence on him as your caretaker?

How does he know that you can still love him for who he truly is, when you don't know him well enough to rebuke his self-doubt?

Every lone moment is the agony of grieving someone who's still alive, spiraling until you have need of him again and he has a purpose, a clear-cut path that gives him some way to serve you

Lowkey surprised when you recover that you still love him

Asra

At least this time you're not dead!

Truthfully though, it's twice as hard because it's happened before, and twice as hopeful because they've seen you recover

The grief he feels every time you look at him with empty eyes runs a well-worn track, so familiar that it makes his heart wonder if this is supposed to be his default state and happiness was borrowed

They also have years of practice setting their own feelings aside to care for you, and care for you they will. You won't experience a single moment of need with them staying nearby

He's so, so careful not to push or rush you. Even though he knows this time around that you're committed to a relationship with him, he still wants you to have all the emotional space you need

Terrified of telling you what's happened despite knowing the circumstances are different. They do it anyways when you ask, and seeing you not crumple into agony from their words is so healing

Keeps all the pain of it hidden out of sight and ignored until you recover your memories. After twenty four hours of cautious relief, he breaks down in shuddering sobs as the years start to process

Nadia

She's ... she's unsure of herself, and she hates feeling unsure

No matter what, she wants to treat you with love and respect and dignity, but suddenly your boundaries have been reset and the person she loves as her partner doesn't see her the same way

It's easier for her to focus on getting you back to normal than it is to sit in the dissonance of your current condition

Makes sure you are completely cared for while she summons physician after physician after physician to provide you with round-the-clock care and her with as many cures as possible

She feels genuinely remorseful for how emotionally distant she is from you when she knows you're going through a moment of vulnerable need - but what she provides wouldn't be right

To try to make up for it, she writes you letters every day like a journal, to be given to you when you regain your memories and can take the role of her consort once again

Which she does give to you within a couple hours of your recovery

So, so, so very proud of you for making it through yet another trial - and more than ready for several days off to make up for lost time

Muriel

Usually the type of person to sleep off his sadness, he just wants space to himself to handle his grief where it can't affect you

At the same time, he has a level of loyalty to you that the Patrons themselves couldn't cross. He's not going to leave you alone for this. Nobody deserves to suffer in isolation

That said, trying to be there for you when you don't know who he is is a source of constant anxiety. How does he know this isn't his blessing-turned-curse making a poorly timed comeback?

How does he know that he won't scare you? How does he know that you'll be able to see past his intimidating frame and permanent scowl? How does he know he won't make it worse?

Ends up relegating himself to being something along the lines of your bodyguard. He won't pressure you to interact with him at all, he'll just be nearby to make sure you're okay and not alone

And that's how the days pass, slowly recovering in the peace and beauty of the woods, with your guardian in the background

He doesn't begin to process how scared and hurt and alone he felt until you're yourself again, and able to help him find words

Portia

She knows, logically, that it's not her fault, but in her heart of hearts she feels like this must be personal somehow

Is she that easy to forget? That easy to brush aside? The vulnerability she showed you, the countless ways she's propped you up, the beautiful relationship you've built - gone, that easily?

She'd never leave you to go through this alone and she's fully committed to seeing this through. Your days are filled with sunlight and tea and scones and cat snuggles and garden naps

But Portia just can't find it within herself to embody joy. She's a shadow, fixing you with tired smiles over eyes pooling with sorrow, the usual bubbly rants cut down to gentle, quiet observations

And somehow ... somehow, you still seem to care about her

Somehow she's still the first person you look at. Somehow you still listen to her fewer, quieter words like they're worth hearing. Somehow you see her "boring" face and still want to stick around

Even with you losing your proof of her worthiness, it's still her

Goes from depressed to all the feelings at once when you regain your memories. You'll be kissed, tackled, scolded, and hugged

Lucio

He's so close to hating himself for thinking this, but ... maybe ... what if ... this is a good thing?

He's glad he met you. He's, ultimately, grateful for the chance you gave him and the love and labor you put into giving him a second chance and helping him make the most of it

He's proud of the work he's done and the ways he's changed

And, in contrast, he carries plenty of shame for who he used to be

It could be so easy. When you look at him, you just see the golden haired journeyman who was holding you when you woke up and who's been there for you every moment since

You don't see the plague, or the painful source of his golden arm, or the demonic deals, or city state run to ruins, or the battles ...

You just see him. Now. As the person he wants to be

And yet he finds more and more that he misses being known

He misses your pride when he makes a hard but right choice, when he chooses honesty over luxury and accountability over escape

And when you come back to who you really are and see him for who he fully is, he gets the full brunt of it all over again

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting. 

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself… 

Now that is pure hell. 

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good. 

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you." 

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?" 

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 

"I'm just…" 

Jesus, this is just humiliating. 

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–" 

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…" 

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know." 

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to. 

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok." 

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 

Whoa. 

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…" 

He sounds dazed. 

Relieved. 

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

[pomefioredove]

nightmares

summary: some chars I think would take care of a reader who has nightmares type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, vil, lilia, silver, malleus additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, this is self indulgent lol, platonic or romantic, not proofread, maybe a little ooc for a few ones

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

he initially assumes you're just staying up to slack off

you are friends with Ace and Deuce, after all

it takes a good scolding from him before you sheepishly admit that you've been having nightmares and thus losing sleep

now, Riddle comes from a family of doctors. he's no psychiatrist, but surely he can find a way to help you sleep despite it, right?

he tries everything- chamomile tea, weighted blankets, he even turned a blind eye when Ace and Deuce "borrow" a sleeping potion from the lab

nothing works

of course, this drives him mad. it seems like such a simple problem, and yet your body resists everything

your grades are suffering, and even worse, you seem like a walking corpse

he takes it upon himself to find a solution no matter what

and, of course, you have nothing to lose, so you indulge him

nothing medical or magical helps

eventually, he picks up a big psychology book and gets to work on the last thing he can think of

suddenly you're having tea and "talk time" with him twice a week at 4 PM sharp

turns out he kinda likes playing therapist

and if you're late to an appointment, it's off with your head

now you're starting to regret being his guinea pig, as thankful as you are

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

you can't what?

sleep?

you can't sleep?

he laughs right to your face, much to your annoyance

who can't sleep? it's easy!

you begrudgingly explain your nightmare problem and he finally shuts up (for once)

after a long silence, he grunts something about learning from the master

big surprise, all of his "master lessons" just mean he gets to use you as a body pillow while you watch

very helpful.

eventually, as much as you hate to admit it, it starts to help

having something soft and warm protectively wrapped around you is as comfortable as it gets

you start managing to sleep through the day undisturbed

then nights

Leona boasts to everyone about fixing their beloved prefect's problem, but even after you're well rested, he's still dragging you back to his favorite nap spots

turns out he doesn't mind the company so much, either

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

"those eyebags are just dreadful, prefect,"

always perceptive and eternally critical

(AKA he's worried)

he knows right off the bat that something's up, but he doesn't press for answers until you come to him yourself

as tempted as he is to step in, he doesn't want to pressure you to share something you don't want to

he accepts your pleas for help (he's worried) simply because he doesn't want your performance to suffer (he's soooo worried)

he starts out through traditional means- teas, oils, setting your routine to perfection- and eventually starts brewing potions for you

only one per week, he doesn't want you to become reliant

and the side effects can be... a little disruptive

one morning you spontaneously collapse in his arms on the way to your first class

he has to drag you back to Ramshackle to rest, despite your insistence

eventually, he eases you into talking about the dreams

he's there to comfort you about them, someone to lean on (though just for you)

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫

I mean... it's Silver

poor guy probably stumbled into one of your terrifying nightmares by accident

after that he started trying to subtly guide your dreams back to normal

when he gets to, of course

you're not even aware of it in your waking life, and he has no intentions of making his good deed known

it does give him the tiniest sense of accomplishment, though

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚

similarly to Silver, he's got a thing with sleep

his beloved prefect isn't sleeping well because of nightmares? he wants to help!

(please let him help)

he definitely won't let you refuse out of humility or embarrassment

he'll get you to rest and make sure all of your dreams are pleasant at no cost!

(AKA at the low, low cost of getting to see you so cute in your sleep. you're like a cat to him)

he will never not be fascinated by you

he's so pleased about being your unconscious protector; it makes him feel so wanted

his cute little child of man!

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

Lilia is no stranger to bad dreams

he's lived a long time; he's seen some things

every once in a while he, too, wakes up covered in sweat and tears

he can't help but feel a sense of longing when you describe your situation

you poor little thing!

right away he offers to keep watch over you, as if guarding you from an unseen enemy force

he's up most of the time, anyway

watching you is no problem!

you think that sounds reasonable enough

by night two you wake up in the early morning with his arms around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck

little bastard is definitely stealing your body heat

you don't say anything, though- you haven't had a nightmare since

(and neither has he)

[unabashednightmarepizza]

A/N: I am just starting to play Honkai so if there is anything wrong or that just doesn't make sense, please tell me!

A/N ²: This is me attempting to adopt and protect my babies, wrapping them in cotton and never leaving their side... And I got sleepy at the end, or else I would have written Aventurine and Dan Heng too :( If anyone has ideas for Honkai SAGAU, please do send some asks 👏🏻

Imagine... The Creator!Reader in Honkai verse. You were just idly passing by, to see what your children were doing after the Ones you left in charge... Pretty much usurped your throne.

Imagine the Creator!Reader seeing, witnessing all the deaths and sorrow IPC created...in the name of "economy". Such thing was absurd, why would they do that, slaving and using people for their benefit to make more and more when you gave all the humans and even the Aeons enough source to love in harmony?

Why would they destroy people, families, lives... Planets?

Imagine... Creator!Reader's disappointment as They slump back on their throne. They gave them life, opportunities to overcome their mind's limit and be someone to be remembered... They gave them life sources, water, air, planets to live on, souls to feel and think and passions to find a reason to be alive... And yet, there were some people, the people of your Aeon Qlipoth, who was usualy indifferent, deciding that they were the ones to destroy the harmony and balance you had settled for everyone.

They thought Yours wasn't the final saying, that your word wasn't the absolute

How many more times did they have to go through all of the syages of self-destruction before they finally used their mind and consciousness together? Before they realized your Balance was the most beneficial for everyone?

Imagine... Knowing what would happen, even though pain was a constant part of human life, They didn't want their creation to suffer such a fate. Loosing humanity, everything that made humans humans... Loosing your family and witnessing their deaths right before their eyes, only being seen as the sins someone that wasn't you did and being exiled, pushed aside and running away for not to be hunted and all the reasons for your disappointment... Creator!Reader decides to take the reigns.

First, they go to visit a certain father and daughter duo. They watch from the side as they spend time, caring for the horses, playing guitar and braiding each other's hair. They couldn't help the smile that slowly took over their face, watching with fondness at the innocence of that little toddler... Before their eyes met, and a spark erupted.

From now on, as much as Boothill was first skeptical about them, he accepted to have Them around since his daughter and siblings loved Them so much. The little girl often slept on Them while cuddling, her soul immediately knowing the presence of its creator... Of course They didn't tell them everything, that their lives would be over because of Their greedy creations... And of course, the fact that They were the Allmighty Creator they kept telling tales about.

They loved this little found family a lot, with the human body They crafted to blend in, and soon found Themselves attached. Soon, They found Themselves cooking and cleaning around, running after the children with a toddler attached to their hip as the silent affection between Them and Boothill grew with all the loving and fleeting touches, hugging and cuddling, stargazing at night but never leaving their eyes off of each other...

But an omnipresent being falling in love with their creations was...against the balance... Especially when the day of their death too, came closer, and They were the one who lied, although it was to protect them.

But please, they were the Creator, to Weaver of All Fates, were the measly humans really going to stop Them? Take what was rightfully theirs?

Don't think so.

Before the fall of the planet, when all the equipments of IPC broke and the Path of those who worked under it, alongside Qlipoth's, were taken away for some time... That was when Qlipoth understood that they initially fucked up and angered the Creator. Now, another Aeon who had a head over their shoulders, would probably go nuts with fear and cower at some kind of corner of the universe...

But greed? Greed was often stronger that rationality.

Did any of that shitty behaviour stop? No, not really.

So, it was up to you to save and protect all those traumatised kids... And also make sure that a whole race didn't get wiped out.

[jestaar]

A scenario with yan! housewardens, where their darling goes up to them because they’re all hot and bothered and they can't handle their desire and they need their yandere to "help" them with it. Yanderes do not know how their darling got into such a state {of course they never spilled anything afrodisiac-like into their drink or cursed them with succubus spells... or did?..}

So what would yanderes do? Would they graciously help their darling or would they overstim the hell out of them {out of pure love of course! and as a punishment for being so stubborn before} or would they be mean and make their darling beg for it?

_________________________________________

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

_________________________________________

Warnings: yandere themes, smut, everyone being delusional, bad humor attempts, darling written as fem

_________________________________________

You were walking into ramshackle dorm after classes. You felt lightheaded and more sensetive to touch then usual. You chose to ignore your state (at least while Grimm was around) and do more important chores. But your horniness started becoming unbearable as the time passed. In the night, while Grimm was asleep and ghosts nowhere to be seen, you finally get to take care of yourself. But what is that? A strange glowing symbol appearet on your abdomen and it seems that your fingers are not enough to satisfy you. Thoughts about certain someone who could fill that emptiness inside you started crossing your mind. It was uncomfortable and emdarassing thinking that way about him. But who if not him can you trust with pleasuring you? You wash your hands, put back on your pajamas, exhale and march to his room

Riddle Rosehearts

° he is so embarrassed with showing affecton so you have to make a first move

° but you don't want to be affectionate with him??? You avoid his affections towards you at all costs and ignoring all hints he is giving you, so how can you two take a step further in your relationship when you act like that? {you don't have a relationship, at least not that you aggreed to any}

° he decides to give you a little push (a few drops of special afrodisiac won't hurt, but surely will guide you to the right decision)

°and oh how happy he was to find you at his doorstep that night! Of course he tried not to show it, but the way he smiled at you gave him away

°he slipped an afrodisiac in your drink that he prepared himself for you {not that you know about it, you wold've refused it if you did}

°and now he's almost shaming you for your imprudence (how could you not notice something like this in your drink? that's why you shounldn't accept gifts from anyone that is not him)

°that's his way of teasing, really

°and he is also mad at you for refusing his attention (why are you playing hard to get? He knows that you love him)

°after he's done with talking he will actually help you out, just torture you a bit in the process

"I will not let you cum until you say you love me. You have to learn your lesson after all..."

°he just wants all your love and attention for himself, is that too much to ask for?

°he will edge you with his fingers for hours, until you give up entierly and the only thing on your mind will be him {and his dick}

°you will be a sobbing crying mess in his arms when he decides to finally ease your sufferings

°he is so happy to have your eyes only on him now, it's not even funny

°he is not experienced, but he is very much willing to make you his properly (he waited for this for so long, he never been more ready in his life, he never been more happy in his life)

°he will be thrusting sloppily and maybe too out of rythm, but you would be already too far gone to care

°will probably hancuff you to his bed and just lay there hugging your body untill he falls asleep (finallyfinallyfinally)

Leona Kingscholar

°from the very first moment he laid his eyes on you he knew that he should have you no matter what

°but you never showed any interest in him, maybe feared him even. you never understood him {and you never really tried, you could care less about him, you just wanted to go home} . It's always like this. Guess it's just the fate of a second-born prince. But he's fine, he is used to it, he can handle it, he's a gangsta {he was never, in fact, gangsta}

°you were something he craved with his whole being, and yet another thing he could never have

°and day by day his obsession grew. And so did his frustration.

°he sent so many gifts, anything that he thought will catch your eye, so many letters {that ended up in the trashcan unread and unopened}, so many flowers {hat had the same fate as letters} {He never signed anything, but you knew who they're from, you knew} heck, he even tried to approach you himself but you just kept getting away from him (just like everything else)

°so he came up with this gem of idea: let you feel the crave similar to his. And he casted a succubus spell on you. Only he can get rid of it. (Only he can help you. You don't need anyone else. Look only at him. Talk only to him. Worship him. Desire him as much as he desires you. Maybe that will make you understand him and his love for you)

°once you knock on his door in the middle of the night he's alredy standing in front of you, waiting for an explanation for interrupting his sleep (he's been waiting for your arrival for so long, finally he will have you all for himself. He is so glad, so glad)

°after you explane your situation to him, he smirks (smirks, God, he smirks at you, the audacity of this lion) and invites you in

°you get the chance to sit on his bed but only for a moment. He is on top of you pinning your hands at she sides of your head and placing his knee between your thights

°he would kiss you first(oh God, he waited so long for this, so long) and then he would move to your ear and tell you how stubborn you were all this time

°he is mad and he will not even try to hide it, instead he will make you beg for him. Beg for him to touch you, to look at you, to fuck you already. And he will listen to your pleas as a gracious king he is

°no no, he won't prep you. You should alredy be wet and ready for him by the time he decides to start with you

°his thrusts are harsh and mean, bullying your walls with their frequency. But he just can't get enough of you

°he wants you to only remember his name when he's done with you (he only has eyes for you so it's only natural that you should look only at him)

°good luck walking next morning {oh, walking where? Didin't I tell you? You're staying with him forever}

Azul Ashegrotto

°he is so flustered whenever you're near him, he forgets how to breathe, let alone how to talk

°but he is always watching, he has eyes everywhere, you know (you are just so perfect, he can't help but look)

°you can never be alone, it's always him or the tweels somewhere in the crowd around you (he has to watch you, has to watch)

°he tried to hide his obsession, tried to court you "normally" - leaving flowers on your desk or doorstep everyday, sometimes even leaving letters asking things about your day or comforting you when something unpleasant happened to you {he never signed them, you never knew it was him, but the thought of having a secret friend was comforting to you}, getting rid of your bullies - he is a gentleman after all (why don't you pay attention to him? why don't you love him? is he not enough?)

°but his obsession grew and his patience grew thinner. His letters very soon changed from comforting to unsetteling and subtle eyes in the crowds turned into some unnotisable eyes watching your every move, every step, watching you every second of the day and then instead of bullies started disappearing your friends

°but you still tried to run away from him (he loves you, he loves you, how don't you understand that???)

°and then tweels suggested him giving an afrodisiac to you, as it will bring you to him with no trouble

°and so, as you were in Monstro Lounge, he brought you a cup of tea

"for special guests" he said (oh, you don't know what's awaiting you, you don't know)

°when you were knocking at his door he was already waiting (he was so nervous, so nervous!)

°he told you to come in almost immideatly

°he was trying to keep his cool, but it was so hard with you so close to him and in such a state because of him! {he just wants to think you love him, he can't stand the thought of you feeling otherwise}

°he will graciously help you out, but you wold have to sign a contract first! Don't worry about the price, asking for your heart isn't too much, is it?

°he will take you in his human form first, he's anxious that you will get scared by his octo form

°he is inexperienced, yet he has passion to make you his

°his thrusts are sloppy but he stimulates you with his hands too, he just wants you to feel the best with him (so you won't even think of going to someone else, not that you have a choice)

Kalim Al-Asim

°he is unbelievably obsessed with you

°since the moment you first talked to him, he knew he was in love

°and since than he tried to court you: parades in your honor, expensive gifts, parties where you were the main guest... And along with his heart he was willing to give you his trust. He never doubted a single thing you did, to him or others. to him you couldn't do no wrong (but other people? what if they hurt you? what if they poison you? what if they betray you like they betrayed him? he will not let this happen to you)

°but you never really answered to his affections, you tried to avoid him (you don't trust him, he understands... you must be scared of something. he hates whoever made you not trust him)

°and Jamil had enough of Kalim's sufferings

°so now you are under the effects of afrodisiac. When did you drink it? You won't remember. People never remember what they did when they were hypnotised

°and now you are running to Kalim for help (of course because he will never turn down your request, because he will always be there for you)

°you don't even need to knock on the door, he already waits for you outside his room, readily guiding you in

°he aggreed to help you a bit too fast after you explained your situation {not that you mind}

°he takes good care of you, first prepping you with his fingers while telling you that he understands why you were uneasy around him at first, that he is glad that you trust him enough to ask for his help (he is so happy, so happy you finally trust him)

°he will be slow and gentle with you (he is so happy that he has finally gained your trust, that he can show you how much he loves you, that he can protect you from things he been through)

°you have no escape now, he loves you and you love him {he is delusional, they're all delusional}

Vil Shoenheit

°in that sea of ugly potatoes you were the most gorgeous thing he ever laid his eyes upon (he had to have you, had)

°but why don't you notice him? (is he not beautiful enough? is he not enough for you?)

°he gives his all to self-improvement, he shows off before you, like a peacock, trying to get you to look at him. it doesn't work (he's not good enough. not. good. enough.)

°he tries to send you gifts, flowers, but you reject them every time (you reject him)

°he obsesses over his looks (not enough, not good enough), over you (perfection, absolute perfection. why won't you look at him?)

°he is upset that he can't get you to pay attention to him, he goes insane {like he wasn't before}

°he has to get you to himself (he is fairest one of all, after all)

°and so he puts a succubus curse on you

°when you come to his room, he is prepairing - he has to look better than he ever did (you were not expecting him to be awake, he needs his beauty sleep)

°he lets you come in {he sees what a mess you already are, he is proud of his work}

°he patiently listens to your explanation

°of course he would help you, but first he has to prep you! {more like training you before you take him}

°he will finger you torturingly slow, making you look at his beautiful face only (yes, look, look, never move your eyes away from him)

°after he decides that it was enough, he will make you ride him (finally, finally you're his)

°will clean you up afterwards, 10/10

Idia Shroud

°you never seen him in person, you probably don't even know he exists, but he looks at you every day

°you don't even suspect it, his cameras give him ability to stalk you without being caught (it's not stalking, he's just admiring you and making ure you're safe)

°(he wants to feel your warmth, wants to hear you saying that you love him, like in his favorite otome games) but unlike game characres you didin't have any fanart or fanfics, so then cameras became not enough

°he started arriving at school more. you never acknowleged his existence (he is hurt, but he understands that you will never look at some loser otaku like him)

°but everyone seems to forget one tiny detail: he's not just an otaku

°he tries to approach you through Ortho, he tries to text you (why do you never reply?), he buys you merch from your favorite games and shows (how does he know about them?)

°but you just refuse to even look at him

°and thats how you ended up with afrodisiac in your energy drink

°you were hesitant to ask him for help, but you did anyway

°he was giggling. That alone was terryfying considering your state but his grin made it worse

°he will tie you up and tell you how your tsundere act gets to him already

°he will put a vibrator in you, sit in front and enjoy the view {he will make dirty comments about you enjoying being watched but still basically drool all over you}

°after he had his fun he will clean the mess you made of yourself {no, it was him} with his tongue, and only then he will let you ride him (you're so impatient, he wanted to watch you more)

°he is actually taking photos of you when you lose your mind on top of him

Malleus Draconia

°when he first met you, he thought it was a blessing (you were a blessing)

°he wanted to spend every moment of his eternity with you

°(you are supposed to be his, only his) he hates when you pay attention to anyone other than him

°he wants you to have eyes only for him, for you to only love him

°but you always seek for the company of others and not his (why do you always run away? you can't be scared of him)

°he scares you, his insanity scares you

°and here Lillia gives him the best {it is, in fact, not} dating advice ever - put a succubus spell on you

°and thats right what Malleus did. (because you are just too shy to make a move. yes, thats why you never stay in the same room with him alone, you are just too shy. thats why he has to help you)

°you wanted to knock on his door but it opened by itself right away, inviting you in. In the room sat Malleus in all his almost naked glory

°you told him about your situation and he was smiling. smiling (he is so excited, so happy)

°he aggreed to help you a little too ethusisthically

°you only managed to blink and you both were already fully naked

°he sat you on top of him, putting his dick in. no, you weren't going to ride him. when he pushed himself fully in, he wrapped both his hands around your body and held you down on his length

°he was now telling you how happy he is to have you finally all to himself and that he is gonna make sure you both enjoy every second of this

°it's been a few hours. you've been cockwarming him for several hours. at first he talked, but now you were begging for him to fuck you or at least let you move. he was enjoying it a little bit too much

°and finally he decided to fuck you. but it won't be just one round. he wants to see you lose your mind on his cock (to see you lose your mind over him), to hear you scream and moan his name, to see you pass out from how good you feel

_________________________________________

First writing attempt, let's gooo

I apologize for any possible mistakes, english is not my native language

[aphrogeneias]

don't go (sharing your devotion) — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie's jealousy was loud, just like everything else he did. or, eddie realizes he can't keep being the sole object of his best friend's attention forever and ends up screwing things up.

maybe it was about time.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: friends to lovers, jealousy (on eddie's side, he's not proud of it), light angst, unresolved sexual tension, a little bit of smut (+18), a hint of sub!eddie

author's note: was inspired to upload this to tumblr by @cursedyuta's stellar subby eddie content, and it made me remember i had this hidden. this was supposed to be two-part but i couldn't find the motivation to write any more, i'm sorry about the open ending! maybe it will gain a follow up one day, never say never <3

Eddie's jealousy was loud, just like everything else he did.

It stemmed from regret, pure and simple. Regret of not asking you out all the times you were alone with him, of not confessing his feelings, of not making you his when he had the chance. You weren't his, no matter how much he acted like you were.

As far as everyone was concerned, you were Eddie's girl. Being the only girl in The Hellfire Club — until Erica Sinclair's unexpected arrival, that was — and the only girl he was always seen with, it was easy to make that assumption, and neither of you really cared to clear those rumors. Something in his chest swelled with pride anytime someone called you his girlfriend and all you did was roll your eyes, but never tell them they were wrong.

Sometimes he wondered if you knew. You had to know, he wasn't exactly hiding.

His reputation did most of the work to keep guys away from you, but there were a few, brave ones who weren't really intimidated by Eddie "The Freak" Munson — alleged satanist, cult leader and whatever other false atrocity this town was willing to put on his shoulders. Those brave ones, the ones who asked you on dates and dared keep you from spending time with him, suffered with Eddie's relentless, petty teasing and practiced death stares.

Steve Harrington didn't seem easily intimidated by him in the slightest, though.

Eddie had all but scoffed when you told him you'd been going out with the former King of Hawkins High. It wasn’t until he saw the two of you together that reality started to sink in.

He didn't mean for things to get ugly, but the moment realized you were slipping through his fingers was an awakening he didn't think he could handle.

"What was all that about?"

Eddie shrugged, running a hand through his shaggy hair, a little humid from sweat. It was hot that night, even hotter inside the small downstairs bathroom you locked yourself with him in. Outside, the small party the drama club kids were throwing went on, voices and music being muffled by the closed door.

"I just wanted to know what Harrington was doing hanging out with low lives like us. Can't I be curious?" His voice was a bit slurred, no doubt from all the cheap beer he downed before and after Corroded Coffin's gig, fuming as he stared at you from across the room, all tangled with Steve, laughing at his jokes.

You leaned on the tiled wall, crossing your arms. He tried not to let his eyes wander lower, to the way your tits were pushed up in that halter top that left little to the imagination, but his was already running wild. "Do you hear yourself, Eddie? When you speak? Or did all that headbanging finally mess with your brain?"

"I think that would be the drugs, sweetheart."

It was a poor attempt to make you laugh, he knew. You knew it too, because your face remained impassive.

"You were curious, then. That's why you threw a fucking scene? Is that why you acted like an idiot and dragged me along with you, in front of all of those people?"

"Wouldn't be the first time." He mumbled, now unable to meet your eyes. Shame was something Eddie rarely felt, comfortable in his own skin most of the time, no matter what other people thought — but when it came to you, all he wanted to do was shield you from those same judgemental gazes, but instead, he put you right in the way of their scrutiny.

All because he couldn't stand the sight of you flirting with someone else.

"Goddamnit, Eddie! Can't you be serious for once in your life? This isn't the first time you do this shit but this time you went too far."

"I didn't like watching Harrington being all over you, okay? I didn't like knowing he's going to take advantage of you just like he does with all those other girls. Is that what you want to hear?"

He knew he was exaggerating, in fact, he knew nothing about Steve Harrington's intentions towards you, or any of the other girls he was seen around with, but none of that mattered to the ugly, jealous monster roaring in his insides.

Sighing, you close your eyes before looking right into his. "No, Eddie. That's not what I want to hear, but an apology would be nice."

The words "I'm Sorry" were stuck inside his throat, along with those three little words he struggled to say to you, as he watched you leave through the door and lose yourself amongst the crowd.

The day after your fight was spent in his trailer, nursing a bad hangover and a broken heart, both of which were his own fault, and the consequences of his reckless behavior. One of them hurt more than the other.

Eddie was sitting on the old brown couch on the trailer's porch as the sun went down on the horizon, smoking the uptenth cigarette of that cursed day when he saw Steve's burgundy BMW enter the trailer park from afar, and stop right in front of the Mayfield's trailer.

That wasn't unusual, since Steve was often checking up on the Mayfield girl, just as he did with Dustin, as far as Eddie knew. What was different this time was you on his passenger seat, looking as pretty as you did the night before. He stood up as he watched you talk, his heart clenching inside his chest when you exchanged a quick kiss before you both left the car, Steve going into the Mayfield's home and you made your way to the opposite side.

His side.

He could see it from afar, the pain in your eyes. There was rage too, lingering, somewhere in there. Your hips swayed with the determined movements of your feet, and he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on the mini skirt you were wearing — the black one, his favorite. Not that you knew it was, but every time you wore it, his mind raced with thoughts of what was hidden under that tiny piece of fabric, struggling with the soft flesh of your thick thighs.

For a moment, he thought about how might look like to you, standing shirtless on his porch, a long since extinct cigarette hanging from his fingers, wearing those same old black jeans. He wondered if you could see the dark circles under his eyes, or if his hair looked like the bird's nest it certainly felt like. Eddie felt sick, unworthy of your presence, unworthy of you. He kept wishing you would turn away, back to the golden boy who had apparently won your heart, but suddenly there you were, right in front of him.

"Will you let me in, please? We need to talk."

Not trusting his voice, he nodded, stopping out of the porch and towards the door, where you followed him to. Once you were inside, the silence between you was heavy, oppressive, until you were the one who broke it.

“You know, you can’t keep guys away from me forever.” There was a shy, almost teasing, smile behind your words.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He avoided your eyes, tracking back further into the house and in the direction of his room, knowing you would follow him. The angry stomp of your boots behind him was like music to his ears, it made his heart race into his ribcage unlike any heavy beat of bass drums.

At that moment, Eddie couldn't find anything more beautiful than you — standing in the yellow light of his room, eyes set on him, brows and lips set on a hard line, making him want to reach out and run his fingers through them to soothe your expression. You looked like an avenging angel, a goddess come to put him in his place.

There was no one else he'd rather be on his knees for.

“Yes, you do. You know exactly what I’m talking about, and the worst part is that you keep acting like nothing is happening, like… like you haven’t been doing this for years. Eddie, I’m…”, it weighed on his heart, the way you sighed deeply, stopping yourself mid-sentence, “I’m tired. I’m tired of dancing around whatever is going on here, so you’ll either spit it out and tell me what you want, or I’m gonna walk out of here and go home with Steve, because at least he’s not the one bullshitting me.”

It wasn’t often that Eddie Munson was left speechless.

Ever the wordsmith, he should have had the perfect excuse on the tip of his tongue, but instead, he has nothing. Eddie watched you with dark eyes, burning under your gaze, his mouth sewn shut. With one last look, a bullet through his already wrecked chest, you turned to leave.

"No, no, no!" Panicking as he felt you slipping through his fingers, Eddie finally reached out, running to stand between you and the door, voice rising in a whine, "Don't go with Harrington. Please, I'll do anything you want, just… stay, please?"

You hesitated a little before coming closer, neatly brushing his chest with yours, your perfume making him almost dizzy, making him close his eyes for a moment, taking you in.

"All I want is for you to tell me what you want." You insisted.

Placing his hands on his hips, the same hands that were itching to touch you, and looking up, chuckling with nervousness, he finally confessed, "I want you. Is that good enough for you, huh? Is that what you want to hear?" He caught himself repeating the same words as yesterday, only this time, he meant then. "In fact, you're all I've ever wanted. I want you so bad it's embarrassing, Y/N. It's fucking ruining me."

Eddie was met with silence, but at the same time he looked down to you, you raised your hands to rest them on his chest, spreading heat through the worn out Sabbath shirt he was wearing and into his skin. "Did it kill you to admit that?"

"No, but you are, baby."

"Consider it payback for all the years you wasted being an asshole and not realizing you could have had me this whole time."

Pushing him slightly, taking advantage of How distracted he was by your unexpected — or should they be expected? — words, you maneuvered the both of you until he felt his knees hit the edge of his bed.

"Can I still have you now?"

With a final push from your delicate hands, Eddie landed softly on the bed, lying on his back, his hair falling like a dark halo around his bed. He saw your expression soften as you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. This time, he didn't restrain from touching you, letting his hands slide over the skin of your soft thighs, squeezing them lightly. He could feel the heat of your pussy from under the thin fabric of your panties, making him swallow back a moan. He wanted to grind against you, release a little of the tension rising in his jeans, but he kept still, waiting for your next move.

It felt like a dream, you on top of him, looking like every bit of a wet dream as well. Your hands grabbed his wrists and positioned them above his head as you lowered your face right above his flustered one.

"You see, the thing is… I don't think you deserve to have me right now, Eddie baby. You need to think about what you've done a little more, don't you think?"

A shiver ran down his spine with your words, making his body writhe under you, a wild fire spreading through him, ready to eat him alive — just like you looked like you were about to do.

"See, I'm gonna have to go and find a way to let Steve down gently, and then we're gonna talk, actually talk, about whatever this is," you motioned with your head at the two of you, "okay? No more running, no more hiding."

"No more running, no more hiding." He nodded frantically, repeating your words. Eager to get on your good side again.

"Good." You placed a sweet kiss to his forehead, a stark contrast to the torture you were putting him through. "Was that so hard?"

You had no idea.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mentions of abuse, anxiety / paranoia, illegal acts mentioned, violence etc. words -> 3.3k

abstract -> fight or flight... what are you going to choose Hongjoong?

y/n's perspective

After a while, I returned to the apartment and made sure my face didn’t tell them I cried. 

I couldn’t let that tiger get to me… but he did. My mind wandered and overthinking everything. I was taught how to differentiate happy hybrids… but I couldn’t now.

His words couldn’t leave my head. 

“Are you thinking of adopting them?” I heard as I saw Yeosang behind me. No… I was wondering if you guys lied to me.

“I know you want to help them–” Did I? They weren’t my responsibility… and frankly, Hongjoong was scary. “–we talked and if you really want to help them, we understand.” he said and I wondered…

Did they want me to adopt them?

“San… he told me how he felt when you adopted me. If he said no, I would've been under her control still and I couldn’t wish that on any hybrid” he confessed and I nodded. 

“You don’t need to feel guilty–” I don't… but if you want me to adopt the tigers then I’d do anything for you three. “–we promise to try to get along,” he said and I noticed Wooyoung and San by the doorway of my room. 

“You’re a good person, without you we would’ve been suffering on our own”

“You do know this is dangerous, right?” Kun asked me as I signed. What was I doing? I couldn’t think straight. Everything was overwhelming… it felt like high school all over again, like almost a year ago when he left me. 

They were dangerous but not to them… to me. 

Seonghwa came out first. He helped me… he was kind but it was to get out of his own hell hole. He only fulfilled his side of the deal, nothing more… nothing less. 

“You? You’re adopting me?” he said with a smile. I didn’t know how to react but I smiled softly… he seemed happy… was he?

“You won't regret it! I… thank you for everything…” I turned him out when I saw the other tiger. He was in a red code protocol gear. “He’s still a code red. The only reason I'm agreeing is because of the training you have… I hope you know what you're doing” Kun said. I don't… I know nothing. I don’t know how to take care of someone… I don’t even know if my own hybrids trust me. If everything was a lie… and I was blissfully just ignorant. 

He looked at me with a smirk.  

I was just a writer… Why was I biting more than I could chew?

hongjoong's perspective

I don’t know how Seonghwa didn’t notice it. Maybe because of how happy he was… but she was scared of us, even him. What could’ve gotten to her head to adopt us when she’s so scared? 

We made it to her building where she was greeted and I could tell this building was expensive. Truly just another rich human with nothing else better to do. 

When the elevator opened it revealed an apartment with three hybrids. Now just how blind were they?

“My name is Seonghwa, I'm a white tiger hybrid” he introduced with a bow to show his politeness. “Hongjoong,” I said while bowing slightly only to get smacked on the back by Seonghwa. Silently scolding me for not making a good impression. 

Why were good impressions even needed? I doubt we’d stay here for long.

Seonghwa was an annoying happy virus. He immediately made friends with the fox hybrid named Wooyoung. The two often cooked together and Seonghwa was a victim to his teasing. I could tell the Doberman and Seonghwa clashed a bit with their personalities but tried to get along for the sake of the humans. 

No one noticed just how… unstable she was becoming. 

I was starting to think my words of her hybrids faking everything got to her head. None of this could be true. She had to have had an incentive for them to act like they loved her. They actually treated her like a mate.

Even then… all of them were blind. She was spacing out and smiling softly and nodding to pretend she was listening to them. Every time she did this and caught my eyes she looked nervous… scared. I felt proud to have done such a strong response to her. 

It's only been three days… but that panther. Something about him made me feel uneasy. He wasn’t easy to approach like the fox or as easy to converse as the Doberman. Seonghwa has tried and he’d only stare menacingly and give uninterested responses.

He started to see what was happening to the human and how she recoiled in his touch. Almost like she was scared of him. Despite that… I overheard the other day that he’ll give her space.

That she might be overwhelmed by too many hybrids around especially since we were from the circus. He didn’t know I was a red code nor Seonghwa had the potential to be one as well. 

I was going to my room when I passed hers… she was in her room. Pacing back and forth mumbling under her breath. I peeked in to see papers scattered around her. She had a pen and was scribbling but she was clearly frustrated. 

Maybe I’ll check that out later. 

y/n’s perspective

I was confused about everything… I wanted to find comfort in them but I couldn’t. And Seonghwa has been nothing but the sweetest hybrid telling me how thankful he is that I adopted him let alone both him and… Hongjoong. He promised that Hongjoong would come around. He got along well with Wooyoung and helped clean and cook… he even enjoyed watching San and Wooyoung play on the TV and shared a love for fashion like Yeosang. 

Everything was… great.

Poor San… he’s been avoiding me. I know it's because I flinched that one time he waved his hand in my face to pull me away from my thoughts. Was I scared of San?

I found myself in the hallway and he attacked me. The broken vase was no longer on the floor, Nothing was on that top shelf anymore. The blood… the sounds of Johnny and his paramedic team. That was almost a year ago now. Why… Why was that flooding my mind now?

I went to my room and turned the lights scaring myself in the process to see Hongjoong sitting on my desk chair. He held up my story… circus.

“Did my performance inspire you?” he said in a mocking voice. I was frozen… “Why are you so scared? I’ll admit, I understand why they like this place so much~” he said, only adding to my pool of thoughts that I couldn't swim out of. 

“The food, the luxury, your submission,” he said as he stood up and I took steps backward. “It's all amusing,” he said and I wondered if that's what they thought. 

“You, however, have been scattered. Did you finally realize the true nature of hybrids? How they like each other's presence but not yours?” he said and I didn’t want to believe it.

San… he told me how much he hated me in the beginning. Why would he change… is it because he didn’t want to live in the kennel? Was it the same for Wooyoung? And Yeosang didn't… want to be with her anymore so what's the difference here?

“This pathetic piece of work is just that! Pathetic” he said as I saw him put both hands on it getting ready to rip it. My only draft… my months of work. I don’t know why my body moved on its own. But it did… and my fingers grazed it as Hongjoong grabbed my wrist and pulled away the packet of paper with his other hand. 

“Let me guess. You were gonna grab the piece of paper out of my hands? Just to what? Punish me? How would you do it? I don’t think you have whips… you don’t look like you'd be into that. Maybe… lock me in the closet? Sleep outside? Or… no food for a week?” he asked as he kept on listing punishments. I couldn’t listen anymore as his grip got tighter the more harmful punishments he listed. His claws dig deep into my wrist. I didn’t mean to cry… I tried to stay strong. They liked the tigers here… I was just collateral. 

“Are you even paying attention–” he asked as he now gripped the back of my neck plunging his claws into my skin. “–you humans don’t care what happens. We’re toys, entertainment, fun to you! Just because you can pay your way in life… just because I was born this way I’m the one made into a slave!?” he yelled as I was now questioning… Was the double vision because of my tears? Or because of the blood I was losing?

“Why do you get all the fun?” he asked and I didn't know with what strength I said it but I gave him a way out. 

“Then why don’t you run?”

hongjoong’s perspective

Run? That… it was an option now, wasn’t it? I could pretend to be a human… go to those illegal surgeries to try my best to look human. 

Why didn’t I think of that before? She wouldn’t be missing the money… wait.

Why wasn’t she moving? I let her go only to hear a thud of her falling down. Why was there so much blood? I tried to shake her awake but nothing worked. I checked for her pulse but I felt nothing?

Did I kill her?

How was I gonna explain that to the four hybrids in the living room?

As much as I tried messing with her head… I knew those three cared about her as stupidly as I thought it would be. Seonghwa… even liked the idea of living a pampered life. While trying to heal his wounds with humans starting with the girl who was bleeding out on her bedroom floor. 

Now was my chance… I could get her information. I could get money and leave. I could… live the life I want. But… It didn't change what I did. My hands are stained with my blood– “What did you do?” I heard as I saw Seonghwa standing by the door. He looked at my bloodied hands and then at her. 

He slammed the door shut but didn’t lock it. 

“Seonghwa, I know what I did was wrong, okay! Just help me find her wallet and maybe even her docu–” “Hongjoong I don’t want to run away and try to get the money for those ridiculous black market surgeries. What did you do?! Why?! She was a good person– Is she even alive?!” he said clearly panicked. He tried feeling for a pulse when he scrambled up to open the door and yell– 

“Call 119!” he said. He turned back to look at me with fear in his eyes… “I told you Hongjoong to stop. You misjudged her… what makes you think you’d survive living as a human? Get a job working with the species you hate! You're an idiot and you might've killed–" "Killed?” I heard as I saw the fox hybrid and panther by the doorway. They looked at her body…

Wooyoung started crying… he immediately went to wipe her face of tears and blood to try to wake her up. Whilst I was tackled to the ground with hands wrapped around my throat… I couldn't breathe and I struggled against him. Why was he so strong?!

He didn’t say anything but I could see the rage in his eyes. He was an animal… he showed pure anger, and bloodlust in his eyes as I started feeling faint. 

“Let go of him!” I could hear Seonghwa’s voice trying to reason. “She’s alive!” the fox yelled, making the panther look at him and loosen his grip, making me cough out and pant for air. 

“Her pulse is there! She’s still alive, we just need the paramedics to get here!” the fox reasoned as I saw the pair look over her dying body. Seonghwa stared at them… what did I do?

A few minutes passed by while we all tried to process everything when we heard people speak in codes. 

I saw a tall man in a uniform that seemed like a nurse. He looked at all of us and then her body. 

He held a radio– “Kun, in her bedroom, four other hybrids have been located” he said as he slowly went to approach her. Realistically… paramedics don’t go towards the body until the threat has been handled but Sna and Wooyoung looked at him hopefully to help her. Wooyoung moved out of the way while San stayed by her side holding her hand. He looked for a pulse. 

He pulled out the radio again– “Faint pulse, get a crash cart ready” he said while now feeling around her wounds.

“Contain all hybrids with a code black status” I heard as I saw the hybrid behavior analysis. He was in charge of me… of seeing if I could ever… live a happy hybrid life. 

“You can help her right!?” Wooyoung said and he could only nod as he took out a syringe and surprised Wooyoung by tranquilizing him.

“Please… help her,” he said last as looked at the other two and me to decide. “San, I need to take her, '' the nurse said and the panther seemed unresponsive, which the specialist decided to go for next, not seeing too much resistance as he started to lose consciousness. “Don’t leave me,” he muttered lastly. 

The nurse took her and before we could react I felt a prick on my neck. I saw the doorway blurrily reveal the doctor from that place. 

“All hybrids have been captured and will be analyzed as a code black” 

The next time I opened my eyes I heard banging and yelling. 

Yells demanded if the human was okay. Where was I? I sat up to see I was on the floor… the kennel? I looked beside me at Seonghwa. The only thing separating us was glass. 

“You're lucky! I should've killed you when I had the chance!!” I heard as I saw the panther. He was in chains and muzzled. Why did he have such intense equipment? It's when I realized… So was I?

Seonghwa didn’t have it. Before I could say anything I noticed a change of smell and the noise of a door opening. 

“These are the hybrids under behavior analysis…” I heard as I saw two unknown staff members with the doctor. “Hyung, there's no way that–” “You can follow the orders I give you and fulfill your request or I'll have someone more experienced do this job” he threatened. He didn’t seem like he was in the mood or cared about the situation. 

“Is she okay?” I heard… that was the fox. “You five, are under analysis. However, no further action will occur once we get permission from your owner–” “She’s alive?!” They interrupted him. He looked to his side to look at me… she wasn’t.

“Or when she gets announced dead” he finished creating an eerie feeling in the air. “Depending on what she has discussed with lawyers in her revised will, I have permission to act accordingly based on your past records and current situation,” he said as he left. The two staff members stayed however to do checkups… her hybrids begged for anything relating to her. 

I noticed San's cage opened. I couldn't see the other two but San did behave for them. “Did she… ever tell you what was bothering her this week?” he asked and I felt my heart stop. They still didn’t know?

“What's been wrong with her this week?” the employee asked. “She’s been… writing more than usual and spacing out,” he asked and the staff sighed. 

“You’ve known her for years… what could’ve bothered–" "Anything really… once something gets into her head, she’s insistent. It must’ve really bothered her if you noticed it. Usually she’s better at hiding it,” he said and I started feeling something eat me up. Was it guilt?

“She’ll be okay,” he said and San didn’t seem to believe him. “She’s dead isn’t she… or dying?” he asked and the face he made seemed to clarify any questions.

They were waiting for her status… but I could see on their faces that they were already mourning their friend… this feels like a dream– not a nightmare.

I noticed my door open. They were the most cautious with me… I felt like I couldn’t breathe. What did I do?!

“Unresponsive Kun.” — “Hongjoong?” I heard the only friend I've ever had say worried for me. Would he still be worried for me if she died? If he knew I tormented her?

“The orange tiger is going into isolation”

seonghwa’s perspective

It was a dream. I got a sense of freedom… I knew that she was scared of Hongjoong and in association was scared of me. But I saw how she flinched away from San. 

I learned that he was her first hybrid… and she became scared of him. Something that Hongjoong said to her. He got into her head… and now here we were awaiting our death sentence.

I know the other three might get another chance but us? We're from the circus… we're gonna die here without feeling how love feels like… we were so close… to feel loved. 

“It's all you tiger’s fault” Yeosang said and I knew we didn’t get along well. I tried my best to get along with them… and they tried their best for my sake. “I shouldn’t have convinced her to help you” he muttered and that made sense. “She adopted us because you suggested it?” I asked and he scoffed. 

“She came back the day of your interviews spacing out and in her head… I assumed she wanted to adopt you two out of pity like she did with me” Yeosang said and San scoffed.

“She didn’t adopt you out of pity… she wanted a better life for you,” he said and I chuckled softly. “She… she didn’t want to adopt us. Not after what Hongjoong told her that day. It makes sense now…” I said and they looked at me like I was crazy. 

“The day of the interview, Hongjoong was a red-coded hybrid. So she brought me with her to help calm him down. But instead, he got into her head… and she ran. He mentioned something about hybrids pretending to love their owners to survive and that we’d do anything to survive. That one day if you wanted to kill her” I explained and I saw how distraught they looked. Wooyoung now had tears running down his cheek and Yeosang hid himself in the corner whilst San… he only stared at his hands. 

“So this is it? She’ll die thinking  what we felt for her was fake?” Wooyoung asked and San tried getting out of his restraints. 

“What are you doing… there's no point in fighting it” Yeosang scolded the panther but San was hysterical. “I’ll never live it down… that’ll haunt me for the rest of my life. None of you were there… not when I almost did kill her. She… she wouldn’t have believed that stupid tiger if it wasn’t for what I did! And… and—” he broke down crying. “–she should’ve left me in that stupid adoption center” he finished with his voice cracking. 

The room was filled with silence and even I felt tears blurry my vision. 

San continued to hysterically get out of his restraints when the doctor came in again. “San?” they waited to see and San did not respond instead his cries were painful. He was also injured fighting in the restraints. 

“San, panther hybrid prepare a code purple room” 

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[qqueenofhades]

The thing that confuses me about the "don't vote" left (not the "I don't want to vote", I'm talking explicitly the "don't vote" left. I don't agree with the "I don't want to vote" left either but I can understand their logic) is they lose me at the final step of the logic. I've tried to connect the logic here, even if I don't agree with a political position I do try to understand where people are coming from (empathy for someones situation is not the same as cosigning it), but I just can't connect the dots here in a way that isn't deeply cruel. Does United States politics prioritize the lives of those in the US (and often white) over those in the Global South? Yes, it's a fucking atrocity. We should continue to make noise about it, cus Biden has used less drones and that shows progress, even if it's not enough. The part where I lose the plot is where the conclusion to this injustice is to let even more people die? Cus that's kinda how I see the idea of not voting: I can pick between shit and more shit, and at the end of the day, I'm picking whoever allows the most people to make it to the next day. Given Trumps stance on everything but specifically climate change, I feel like Biden is pretty significant harm reduction.

I don't think both things can't be true: that every life lost is a travesty we should not forget AND the more people we can save is worth fighting for.

The thing is, I have seen nothing among the "don't vote" far left (and I am talking here specifically about the people who both loudly announce their intention not to vote and try to convince others to do the same) to convince me that they actually care about harm reduction or stopping genocide. They only care about what makes them look the most Correct and/or superior to the Democrats. They yelled bloody murder about Obama using drones, they went dead quiet about Trump using them even more (even when he nearly started WWIII by assassinating the Iranian general Soleimani with one), and then said nothing at all when Biden reduced the drone program to almost nothing and withdrew the US from a failed war in Afghanistan it had long ago lost. Now they will yell all day about Israel/Hamas (something that Biden did not start and has had no direct military role in responding to) but they don't care about Russian genocide of Ukraine and Syria, Chinese threats to invade Taiwan, etc, because those governments are "anti-western/anti-American" and therefore should be defended. Their opposition to human suffering is extremely conditional and rests on whether they can look good out of it, and they never interrogate the hypocrisies of their own ideology.

Likewise: every country in the world prizes its own citizens above those of other countries. It's just a basic fact. Yes, the US has a grim history of intervening in other countries and causing untold civilian damage (especially during the Cold War and then in post-9/11 War on Terrorism). Yes, that legacy is complex and needs to be acknowledged. But literally none of that will be fixed, not to mention all the vulnerable people in America itself who will be punished, by Trump getting into power again. Biden is not just a grudging "lesser evil," but has done a lot of truly good and helpful things, regardless of the Online Leftists' constant lies, misinformation, and misrepresentation. If you spend all your time announcing what a champion you are for non-American marginalised people and/or those undergoing terrible suffering, and then deliberately and knowingly adhere to a course of action that will increase that suffering tenfold not only for those people but your own neighbors, friends, and family, then no, I don't believe you are a brave champion of social justice. You just want to know what categories of people you can gleefully and righteously punish and make to suffer for not believing the same things as you, that makes you just as dangerous as the right-wing fascists, and I can and will call out your ass accordingly.

[charliedawn]

Slashers who meet a to-be victim whos just putting glitter on things

A to-be victim who has a room full of posters of serial killers and slashers

Imagine two of Bo's worst nightmares. Glitter. And sparkles. Combine them. Put them in a room and that would be your bedroom. And worst of it all...Posters of him and his brothers in every single corner. He was speechless...

"...What in the—? What is this place ?! Hell ?!"

As soon as he was in, he wanted to leave. Only to discover that the door was locked and he had now glitter on his shoes and his hand. And then, you appeared with a whole bucket of glitter in your hands. And Bo started praying.

Him : "Whatdya think yer gonna do with that exactly ?!"

You *devilish smirk*

Him : "Oh no, you don't ! Get the heck away from me !"

…Bo couldn’t get all the sparkles out of his hair for weeks.

...Wow.

Jason was surprised and impressed. A full room dedicated to him and the slashers. He hadn't expected it. He didn't really mind though. It meant you knew about him and weren’t scared.

Him *smiles* : "Do you want some help ?"

You *handing him a full bucket of glitter* : "Sure ! Put them everywhere. And you can help take pictures of the others for me."

He was more than happy to help and you ended up having a good time playing with glitter and stalking the other slashers. Jason may not really care about glitter and sparkles, but he’d be happy to spend time with you.

The Penny Brothers love glitter. It is something fun and colourful for Penny. He would help you decorate the whole hospital. He’d even be thrilled to meet a fan and see all the posters you have of them. It would mean that you are as crazy as him and you would get along just fine. Penny loves crazy people.

And for Pennywise ? Pennywise sees it as the perfect torture. Those little colourful flakes are impossible to remove from clothes or hair and when people receive them in their eyes…It means atrocious suffering and temporary blindness. So, of course he’d love them.

Brahms was ecstatic when he learned about the new patient who loves glitter and sparkles. He wanted to be your friend before he even met you. He stayed away for a while and only showed himself when he was sure you were what he thought you were. When he saw the huge posters of him, he got flustered. But, he got particularly excited when you showed him your collection of pink and purple items covered in glitter. He immediately felt like he had found someone who understood him.

It wasn’t long before Brahms started walking around proudly with a glitter-covered mask. And he didn’t even care about the others making fun of him for it, because there was you.

Norman knew from the start. He first rent you a room and when he took a look through the peep hole—he was immediately blinded by the brightness in the room. But, he was flattered by the posters.

Let’s just say that Norman found it endearing, but he isn’t a really big fan of glitter and sparkle—especially on him. It means more cleaning. But, on you ? He’d find it adorable and would gladly run the vacuum every day if it meant he got to see you in those very pretty and original outfits of yours.

Norman *smiles* : "Very cute, my little monster. Very cute."

Freddy : "FIRE IN THE HOLE !" *uses a literal canon to make the whole place sparkle*

Freddy loves chaos. You would just give him an idea to cause more trouble and make the whole hospital swim in glitter. Fortunately, the staff and the other slashers are used to it by now.

But, it doesn’t mean they like it all the same.

Random nurse *after she got covered in green glitter* : "…FREDDY ! Y/N ! Come back here !"

You and Freddy *cackling while running away*

Barry LOVES glitter. He lives for it. He wants each of his outfits to have a sparkle to them. And he’d design all sorts of clothes for you.

Barry *screams when you get out of the dressing room* : "YES ! Absolutely nailed it ! Twirl for me, darling. Yes. Thank you. Absolutely gorgeous."

Vincent did take you as an inspiration for his new piece. He took some of your supplies to cover his new wax statue and at the end, he offered it to you. It was a wax statue of yourself and Vince waited anxiously for your opinion.

Vincent *fidgets nervously*

You *smile widely* : "I love it !"

He was really ecstatic and gave you a hug. He really wanted you to like it.

[sunny44]

You shouldn’t let her go

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton!girlfriend reader x Max Verstappen!ex-girlfriend reader

Warnings: stupid Max, pregnancy

Summary: Max left his fiancée after years of relationship because he felt he couldn't stand being tied to someone anymore so after almost two years she shows up in the paddock with Lewis and he realizes he shouldn't have let her go.

Ps: just to make it clear, I am not in favor of the rivalry that is imposed on Lewis and Max, I know they are not friends but the reality does not match my stories, this is fiction so don't take it personally.

Next Chapter

When he decided that our relationship should end I thought he was joking.

For days and weeks I couldn't believe that this was real, but my mind was made up as soon as I saw pictures of him on the internet with women in parties.

It was then that I realized that our engagement was over.

I don't think I have ever suffered so much in my life, I never thought that I would be isolated for months.

I suffered so much that I started to stop eating, in the beginning I ate very little but as the days went by I decreased until I almost stopped completely but luckily my mother saved me from being at the bottom of the pit.

The first months were difficult, I had been used to our own routine for years and having to leave it suddenly was extremely difficult, in fact I was torn out of that routine.

I had to leave where I had lived for years since the apartment was his, I had to learn to take care of my place by myself since now there was no one else for me to share my tasks with.

But 5 months later I met someone, someone who made me have those feelings again, the feelings that I thought after Max I would never have again.

I already knew who he was and he also knew who I was but the fact that he was Max's enemy but leads meant that we never really talked.

Lewis and I had been dating for almost 9 months when he ask me to be his girlfriend and I remember being extremely happy that he was taking our relationship as seriously as I was.

And since that day we have been together and today would be the first time I could be in a formula one paddock since Max and I broke up.

Today was the Dutch GP and Lewis and I were on our way to the paddock, him and I had agreed early on in the relationship that we would only go public when we were comfortable letting the world know about us. I know how well this world works, if you don't do something people judge you and if you do something they judge you anyways.

And I knew what the fans would say that I was a hustler who only dates drivers and that since I got dumped by one I went after another.

But they don't know the half of it because the part where I suffered they don't care because one of the most coveted pilots became single so they can go after him and try their luck and some of them really do.

Most of them are like that, they go from city to city in nightclubs chasing silly girls who are willing to have their one minute of fame for being able to say that they fuck a formula 1 driver, but in the end this is nothing because in years of relationship he can forget you in one day so how long does it take for them to forget a simple fuck?

When we arrived in the paddock I could already feel my nervousness and so could Lewis, he knew I was afraid to come but not because I was here again or even because I had to see him.

But because of the fact that I would be judged for dating a driver who doesn't get along well with my ex for clear reasons.

But I'm already expecting that his fans don't like me.

"Are you okay?" He asks looking at me but I don't answer and just stare at nothing. "Hey, baby."

"Yeah?" I asked looking at him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Again he asks and I don't answer. "I'm not sure we picked the right GP to do this."

"In this situation there is no right GP. But I think we picked the worst one." I say and he laughs. "Look they are going to hate me anyway with us showing up together today or in the next race so let's just get over with."

"That's the way to talk." He says cheerfully and we get out of the car.

When we got out of the car and were getting in it seemed like the world had stopped around the two of us, the flashes and noises of the cameras, the movement was so big that even some of the drivers that were scattered around looked and were surprised at what they were seeing.

Halfway there I felt Lewis taking my hand and intertwining our fingers and confirming what people were thinking.

We walked to the Mercedes garage and before we entered I could see him standing in front of the Red Bull garage with some people from the team talking to him but Max was more focused on me than on them.

When we got inside I went to say hello to the people from the team, some faces were already known but most I didn't know who they were.

"We have an unexpected visitor." I hear a voice behind me and I recognized it right away by the accent.

"Hi Toto, how are you?"

"Fine and you?"

"I'm great taking all the attention."

"It's almost as if Beyoncé is walking into the paddock."

"I felt like her." He laughs.

"I'm going to go change and be right back okay?" Lewis says and I nodded and he gave me a kiss before heading to his room.

"I'm going to get some coffee, will you let him know for me?" Toto agrees and I leave to get a cup of coffee.

Which I shouldn't have done if I knew Max would find me and come after me.

"Hi."

"Hi Max."

"Good to see you, you look great."

"Thanks."

"And how are you?"

"Fine."

"I haven't heard from you anymore."

"You wouldn't have had to know, you made it very clear that you didn't want me in your life anymore the last time we saw each other."

"And that was the biggest mistake of my life.”

"That’s your problem now." I said walking past him but he held my arm. "Can you let go of me?"

"Are you really with him or was that whole scene just to make me jealous?"

"Pay close attention because I'm only going to tell you once, you broke up with me and it was you who broke my heart. You don't know what the hell my life was like after you dumped me, so don't come to me wanting to know about my life because I don't owe you anything.”

"I'm sorry I was an asshole and I deserve that you are angry with me but seriously you are dating him? You didn't even like him."

"YOU didn't even like him Max I've never even spoken to him to draw those conclusions. And you are rivals on the track but off the track you have no connection."

"So you're dating a guy who hates me? After everything we've been through?"

"And after everything we've been through you dumped me like that for no reason at all so it looks like we're even." He looks at me with anger and sadness at the same time. "And for your information yes I am dating him and it's been a long time, it's not something recent that happened just so I could make you jealous. So leave me alone."

I turned to leave and after a few steps I stopped and looked at him.

"Actually I do owe you something.” He looked at me. "I owe you a thank you for breaking my heart years ago because then I could meet a guy who really loves me and who sees a future with me unlike you who only saw me as a trophy that you dragged everywhere."

Having said that I actually left and went to get a coffee which would actually be a tea since I was avoiding drinking too much coffee.

After buying the tea and a donut that I couldn't resist when I saw it I went back to the Mercedes garage seeing a super worried Lewis.

"Oh my God, where were you? I was worried when I came back and didn't see you here."

"I asked Toto to tell you I was going to get something to drink."

"He had to go to a meeting and must have forgotten."

"I'm fine, don't worry."

"You look a little pale, is something wrong?" He asks, running his hand over my face and I know why I was pale but I wouldn’t tell him right before the race.

"I had a forced conversation with Max on the way over."

"What did he do? Did he hurt you?"

"He didn't hurt me he just wanted to know if we were really together or I was just using you to make him jealous. But I'm not." I hasten to say."

"I know don't worry about it, don't worry about him okay? He's not worth your time."

Lewis put his arms around my waist bringing me close to him and I held his face and kissed him until we were interrupted by the crew calling Lewis to get in the car because the race was about to start, he kissed me once more and went to the car.

I didn't remember how torturous and agonizing it was to have someone you love racing at over 300km/h, every time it seemed like someone was going to crash and I was scared to death that something was going to happen to Lewis but I knew that he was an excellent driver and had total control of what he was doing.

That was until he started to lose positions and that made me and the team worried because the car was the best of the weekend.

Max was first now and I could almost hear his laughter in my head and it really pissed me off.

"Y/n come here." I heard Toto calling me and Bono handing me a microphone.

"Why are you giving this to me?" I picked up the headset in confusion.

"He's nervous for some reason and we can't calm him down so try talking to him."

"Lewis can you hear me?" I ask after I put the headset on.

"Honey? What are you doing there?"

"You need to concentrate, what's going on?"

"I keep thinking about you and him, and it's distracting me. I'm afraid that after you talked today you might want to get back together with him.”

"Don't think about it, I love you and I'm never getting back with Max, understand? I couldn't even."

"Why couldn't you?"

"Because me and our baby love you and we are here rooting for you too."

"Our baby?" he asks without understanding.

"I'm pregnant babe."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am."

"Are we having a baby?"

"Yes we are." I could hear him laughing with happiness. "So go get him."

Right then he sped up and sped up as if his life depended on it and on the last lap he passed Max and the whole garage celebrated, when he crossed the finish line we all went in front of the podium where I went running with the team and stood right in front, he jumped out of the car and celebrated and then came running towards me and kissed me, he pulled me through the fence hugging me even tighter. He bent down and kissed my belly making me laugh through my tears and the look on Max's face that came second didn't go unnoticed, I don't know if it was me but their eyes seemed to shine with the tears but at the moment I didn't care because my happiness was there with me celebrating his victory.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername instagram post

Liked by LewisHamilton, yourmom, mickshumacher, landonorris and others 82937

Yourusername After feeling lonely and unhappy for years I finally found someone who makes me feel like the most special woman in the world. I can't thank you enough for making me shine again and for making me a better person.

And now that our family is growing, I can only thank you for always being there for us, I love you so much.

Tagged: LewisHamilton

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[normal-thoughts-official]

here is the thing

when i started playing bg3, i didn't expect wyll to be so devoted to karlach. her devotion to him is a given; the guy risked his life to save her when they had literally just met. of course he matters so much to her

but wyll matched that same devotion right back, as if she had been the one to save him, even though karlach never really got the chance to do anything of that magnitude back for him

but then i think about it

mizora's punishment plays directly into wyll's worst trauma. to be suddenly branded as demonic, so people will always look at him and see that first. like his father did. like the whole city, everyone who ever knew him, did. no amount of good deeds will ever be enough to compensate for his association with evil; his soul will burn in hell and he will not be welcome anywhere because he's a greedy warlock who made his choice. i don't know if that is actually true, but he certainly thinks it to be, if anything, from his assumption that the people of the grove (whose lives he had just saved, and who had known him for at least a few days as nothing but a kind hero who looked out for them) would be unable to look past his appearance and wouldn't want him near them

and mind, mizora clearly wants wyll to stay isolated. why else would she forbid him from explaining the circumstances of his pact? what could she possibly gain from that, other than making sure he can never dispel the notion that he made a deal with the devil simply for power?

so it makes sense that that, more even than the non-consensual body modification, was the punishment. to put his warlock status on display, so that people would immediately be offput by him - and even if they aren't, he will be sure they are

his own father couldn't stand to look at him, and that was back when he had just lost an eye

but the first thing karlach tells him is this:

"Thank you for seeing me for who I really am. And... I think I can see you for who you really are, too. A hero"

obviously, it's common sense for her to see him like this after he just saved her life at great, and at the time unknown, personal cost. but it would also have been common sense for his father to know that the son he himself raised and who's nothing if not a paragon of kindness and duty wouldn't just decide to sell his soul for power out of the blue one fine day. or that, if he keeps trying to say something but can't, then there might be more to the story. for fuck's sake, he lost an eye. and yet, ulder didn't. wyll's association with the demonic was enough to dispel everything about his personhood, his values, and his actions. and now said association was branded, quite literally, on his forehead

and karlach's suffered so much at the hands of devils. just like with the other tieflings, he expects her to be unsettled by him, at the very least

but then she says that she looks at him and sees only a hero. the man who saved her. the man who cared enough to listen and do what was right. the man who sacrificed something for her, who had to make a choice no one should have to make

he had saved an entire city when he first made the pact, and yet not one soul in it was able to see that. see him

but karlach did

karlach does

and not only that. not only is she the first person in perhaps his whole life to put more weight to wyll's personhood and actions than to mizora's; but she knew he needed to hear that. she says it like someone who's trying to offer a comfort in a hopeless situation, which is exactly what she's doing. she knows that he is afraid of being rejected

and of course she does

she is the one who comes closest to fully understanding him.

can you imagine being wyll and seeing karlach's story play out in dizzyingly rapid succession in your mind? had a pretty good, happy life, then in the span of one day everything changed when she was associated with the demonic. she lost everything and everyone she ever had. from then on, she only knew one thing: to fight. no rest and no friends and no breaks, just endless, senseless fighting. her body was changed against her will. she hadn't been touched in a positive way in ten years. even fucking mizora was there

that's his story, too

sure, he might not have been literally unable to touch people, but neither was karlach when she was in hell. he's been completely alone except for mizora for the last seven years, at least in the ways that matter. nothing in his life was constant, except for the fighting and the humiliation at a devil's hand. and the loneliness

of course he thinks it's a trick. it hits too close to home

and of course he can't help but listen anyway. because wyll is nothing if not compassionate, and he's just watched a tldr of his own pain inflicted on someone else

so when karlach says that she still sees him as himself first?

he is reminded that she gets it

for the first time in seven years, he is not alone, and he is understood

of course he would do anything to keep her in his life, just as she would

in a way, she did save him, too.

(slightly late meta submission for @thekindredcollective's wyllstravaganza2024, day 19: bond)

[bananastarion]

Rambling headcanons about how Astarion's trauma could manifest in your relationship.

Disclaimer: I am not fetishizing trauma or PTSD here. I have C-PTSD myself, and have dated others with it as well. So some of this is (loosely) inspired by my own experiences. It's not pretty, it's not fun, but I'd say it's pretty realistic. So yeah, fair warning! Anyway, let's gooooo

Astarion isn't fazed by much, but he IS claustrophobic- having to claw your way out of your own coffin, being trapped in a mindflayer pod and being trapped in a tomb for a year straight would do that to anyone. If he is ever unfortunate enough to be stuck in a small space again, he'll go into a blind panic. He'll hyperventilate and try to force his way out any way he can, and if he can't get out in time he'll just completely mentally shut down for a bit. If you plan to pull him into a little broom closet for a sneaky fuck, just forget it ok? You will probably get your eyes accidentally clawed out.

There is a long period in your relationship where Astarion is gradually getting more comfortable with being vulnerable around you, but he's also very self-conscious about it. He doesn't want you to pity him or think he's weak. You will be tempted to give him lots of validation and praise to make up for all of the psychological abuse he endured, to reassure him that he's finally safe and free, and that you love him for more than just his body. That his problems won't ever drive you away, and that you don't judge him. He appreciates your words deeply, he wants and needs them more than he cares to admit. But at the same time, they completely overwhelm him. Finally being in a good place with a caring partner is such a stark contrast to what he's been through, that it forces him to see even deeper into the void inside him and recognize just how badly he was treated, how deprived he's been. They hit him hard in both good and bad ways, and sometimes he'll tell you to stop because he just can't handle feeling so much right now. It's best to stick to mostly surface level stuff and ease carefully into the deeper, more meaningful observations.

The sweeter your words, the more his mind races with fears that you are idealizing him and eventually you'll come to see him for what he really is- and then abandon him. Fears that he'll come to depend on your kindness only for it to be ripped away, whether by you or by circumstances beyond his control. Fears that you don't really mean it, that you're just manipulating him the way he did to others. Deep down he hopes and trusts you're sincere, but it's just so hard to accept when Cazador's voice is in his head, countering all of it. This is all so new to him, so unknown. And the unknown is terrifying. He gets frustrated that your kindness does this to him, he wants to be able to embrace your words, he's so impatient to heal and finally be over this shit already. He judges himself so harshly for still struggling with all this. Cazador's dead, he is free, he has someone who truly loves him- why isn't that enough?! Why can't he fully appreciate it, is he just going to feel broken forever? He worries he'll take too long to get over his past, and you'll get tired of it and leave. Expect to give him lots of reassurance about all of this.

He doesn't like to cry around you, but over time you will lower his guard enough that he'll stop fighting back the tears quite so much. Sometimes it's a bad dream, sometimes you say something that just hits him hard (even if it's in a good way), and sometimes he has no idea what triggered it. You tell him he can wake you up any time if he needs you, but often he chooses not to wake you and just suffers through it alone. When it happens while you're both awake, at first he would roll over and face away from you when the tears started flowing if he couldn't collect himself, and you'd just hug him from behind. But eventually he feels comfortable enough to bury his face in your chest and just let it all out. When it's really bad, he'll be trembling and hugging you so tightly as he sobs into your shirt that it's almost hard for you to breathe. The best thing you can do is just be there with him, stroke his hair, caress the tears off his cheeks. It can be dicey, but eventually you learn to read him well enough that sometimes stroking the scars on his back very gently can be healing for him. There are other times though, when this will be too much for him. Same goes for kissing. Also, don't even think about telling anyone you've seen him like this. But of course, why would you?

Don't go into therapist mode with him when he's that vulnerable, and if he decides to talk, just let him talk. Hold space for him and be there with him. Afterwards, help ground him in the present and reconnect him to his senses by pointing out things in the room, remind him that it's not all happening to him right now. Realize how special it is that he feels safe enough with you to be so vulnerable. There are times when he even breaks down during sex, and he'll say that he's fine and you can keep going, but it's for the best to stop what you're doing and check in instead. He often dissociates when he's triggered, and doesn't realize something is wrong until it's too late.

Trauma isn't always pretty, and there are times when it does strain your relationship. When he's really triggered, he might take it out on you. He'll try his best to push you away, and say terrible things he doesn't mean. Perhaps things Cazador said to him. His articulate manner of speech can be sharper than his blade when wielded against you in the heat of the moment. He doesn't believe you can love this side of him, that he is fundamentally broken and unlovable, so it's a test of sorts to prove his own fears. He doesn't necessarily realize what he's doing, he's just lashing out from a point of pure fear. Trauma is an explanation for this behavior, but not an excuse, so it's important you set very firm and consistent boundaries when he gets like this. He might not appreciate it in the moment, but he will once he calms down.

It takes some time for him to feel truly secure with you, but he's getting there. In the meantime, he's starting to get a little clingy and codependent. He's not used to having so much freedom, and doesn't always know what to do with himself when you're not around. Being in your presence is when he's closest to feeling safe and at ease, and being apart for too long can cause his mind to race, especially when he has nothing to distract himself with. It drives him crazy that it gets to him so much- he's never been dependent on anyone before, and this side of him surprises himself. He hates it, which only stresses him out more. He tries to play it off, but it's very obvious he is struggling with separation anxiety. You don't want to overindulge him, but to ease his fears you decide to get a pair of magical rings. You can make each other's rings glow whenever you want- so if Astarion is feeling lonely, he can make your ring glow and you can make his glow back. Sometimes, just that is enough to get him through a rough day without you. Once he has done some more healing, eventually he will come to enjoy his alone time in a way he's never gotten to before in his life, and as much as you enjoy spending time with him, you'll be so happy for him to finally have that.

[mylittlesecretwish]

The face I hate

Summary: [ Post-imposter AU ] When the hunting ceases and everyone beg for forgiveness the creador agree to take the place on the throne, but they cover all their body and face

××××

Based on this drabble

This is my first time properly writing so i hope I made it right!! I know a lot of people loved this idea so i hope I met their expectations with this!

Maybe in the future I will write more for post-imposter au!!

You don't remember how long it has been since the day you arrived on Tevyat, the initial happiness and curiosity you felt that day has long forgotten, but at this point it doesn't matter, what only matter is that you are finally able to rest because everyone had finally stoped chasing you, you don't know why but you don't care, you just don't know to whom God thank that they had finally stoped

However that peace and relief only lasted a couple of days before they followed you again, but this time instead of carrying weapons and threatens they carry an expression full of regret and sadness, instead of imediatly attacking you they immediatly kneel and beg for forgiveness, sometimes they even bring you offerings, promising to be only the best for you but that is what they say and you can't trust them

You wanted nothing more than get away from them, and you did so, you always wander away from the civilization and stay by the side of the only ones that had never tried to kill you, you stay with the kind slimes that used to shield you and cuddle you while you were trying to sleep, with the hilichurls that always make sure to gave you a messy plate of warm food, the abyssm creatures that used to wander with you and shield you everytime someone get close

You wanted to stay with them but the people of Tevyat were stubborn and annoying, they had been even more annoying that when they wanted you dead because now you can even heard them beg for forgiveness to the statues of you and in the temple, it was too much, even more difficult to handle than before and for your own sanity you decided to accept their prayers and go with them, hoping that they will just shut up already

You thought that now that you know how regretful they were you will be able to handle it, but you were wrong, you can't find peace when all their angry faces and bloodlust against you still hunt you down in your nightmares. Even when they kneel at your very least image and talks to you with a lot of respect you just don't feel safe around them, even if your body doesn't have the scars of what happened your soul and mind does, you feel vulnerable and threaten by their very presence and if anyone dares to approach to you, even just a little, you always instinctively step back, they understand and apologize everytime it happens, however they never expected for you to one day start covering yourself

You start to use clothes that cover all your body, that way you feel at least a little more safe, you even started to change your appearance, but it wasn't enough, it is never enough for you, not when everytime you see your reflection in the mirror the only thing you see is the reason why all the people you used to love started to hate you and chased you to death, at this point you don't want nothing more that destroy it too, so you started to cover your face with a mask, a mask that the hilichurls gifted you

Everyone was surprised but they don't say anything, not that they have the right to do so. It become painfuly for everyone to not being able to see you but they just accept their punishment

You weren't the only one suffering from this, everyone on Tevyat was suffering, every day they regret what they have done, and that suffering only increase with every day that pass without being able to get more than a few words from you, only the necesary. And that suffering only increase when they find out that when you go out of the temple you visit all the creatures that had helped you, the ones that protected you since the first day and that you allow them and only them to see your face, you feel comfortable enough with them to take out your mask and you even smile at them, they are allowed to heard your voice filled with happiness and love, they understand but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, the guilt they feel only increase and is eating them alive

The Archons are suffering the most, they are supoused to be the closest to you and yet they were easily fooled by and made suffer their true creator, they ordered their people to hunt you down and kill you without mercy, the person that gave them everything, the person they were supoused to love and protect. The regret and guilt is too much to handle even for them, it makes them wish death, but dying is too merciful of a fate for them and they know it

[gotham-daydreams]

Okay but like picture this the batfam and reader sit down to discuss their issues and Harley Quinn is their therapist

That has to be the worst but best comedy sketch of all time.

Especially because Harley is definitely biased in everything she's saying. (Maybe even siding with the reader and lowkey insulting the Batfam LMAO)

Everything quickly goes down hill, the reader is crying but refuses comfort from the Batfam, shouting at them once one of them even raised their voice an octave, which hilariously escalates things, and there is just a lot of strain and shouting going on. It's chaos.

Harley may not be filming it, but someone is.

Who knew one person just saying the equivalent of "you ignored me for years and that fucked me up, is there really more i have to say?" made things go off the rails so fast.

Bruce is trying to calm everything down but is getting pissed himself. Dick is trying to help but also desperately wants to hug the reader, and you know Harley might be hugging the reader just to rub it in his face. (I mean it's basically free revenge at this rate for her.) Barbara doesn't even know what to do or where to start. Jason is pissed and really wants to shoot something, but has half a mind to hold back Dick from hugging the reader... for now. Tim is trying to 'work things out' but his method isn't really working, as it is basically the equivalent of "but we're better now! So let's just forgive and forget- okay?"

Cass is conflicted and also wants to just suffocate the reader in affection, and is struggling to reframe from doing so - along with throwing Harley out the nearest window. Stephanie is a little all over the place, she isn't really taking anything well. Damian is the most 'calm' out of everyone, but that's mostly because his solution for the reader's worries and to heal their previous trauma is to just spend more time with them or something. Plain and simple. Alfed just outright couldn't attend because, well, he does have other duties (but also let's be real he'd absolutely destroy the Batfam and no one needs that right now). Harley is having her own fun while the reader is just. Suffering.

It's a big mess, but I don't think anyone else wpuld expect it to go any other way.

Oh! And Harley is definitely exaggerating certain things to make this 'session' as miserable and painful for the Batfam. Not because she cares about the reader necessarily, but again, it makes for some pretty sweet 'revenge'.

[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (1)

BTS ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N I am very excited for this story! It has a good amount of world building that I enjoy doing so much! I took inspiration from Stay Alive by Jungkook/Suga in case you guys didn’t know! The beginnings are of course slow but that’s how most stories are to build up the tension. I hopeful for this story and I hope you all like it! Please feel free to ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

People walk among the same earth constantly. However the thing that sets us apart is the path we all take. Sometimes it's the same, other times it's the opposite. Some of us are meant for higher things while some are meant to suffer until things start to look up for us all. 

In a lifetime sometimes we won’t ever get the chance to see ourselves reach the peak we want. There are struggles we all face that will cause setbacks in the path we are taking. Only the ones who are strong enough to see the road to the end make it out alive. 

There will always be those out there who will achieve their goals in life some way or another. Those are the ones who don’t allow those setbacks to dictate their entire life. And maybe along the way someone will come along to help you grow stronger. Whether it’s one person or a whole group. You will see to the end of your path one way or another. 

“Most often than not you will be working on filing. If we are understaffed on a day, like today, we might send you in to write reports on the medicine we have already administered.” Suho, the lady who was placed as your preceptor, explained to you.

You had a grateful smile on your face, happy to finally get to start working. While it wasn’t the place you had been hoping for, you knew the pay was well for the kind of student debts you had. The pharmaceutical lab was meant to administer different kinds of medicines to the people who would sign up for a trial. They did the test on patients before they were given out to people. 

While you were being placed on the front desk for the most part, you knew you would need to work your way up to the spot you wanted and you were more than happy to reach for it. 

“What kind of medicine do you guys make?” You asked, trying to think about all that you had read on the company's website. 

It didn’t really give much about what they focus on so you found it really odd that they were so wide when it came to the things they were trying to cure. 

“You applied here and don't even know?” Suho frowned, looking at you appalled.

“I tried asking at the interview but they just gave me vague answers.” You explained. “The website doesn't tell you anything either.”

“We are very on top of the things we do here at HYBE.” She began to tell you. “There aren’t many people we trust to be hired onto the team so consider yourself lucky to be apart of it.”

“We make sure that our patients here are taken care of because we are a company that is trying hard to reach their goals. Because of that we are detail oriented when it comes to the patients we accept. Not just anyone can be a patient here.” 

While she did a bit more about the kind of company you were working at, it still didn’t really tell you about what it was you were working for. You didn’t choose to question it, knowing that the paycheck they gave you was a luxury for a lot of people. 

“Here are some of your patients for the day. They have already been given the medicine, it's up to you to check up on them for daily research.” You took the six files the lady handed you, nodding your head. 

You placed them onto the small desk area they had given you before going through them to check on the appointment times and ordering them correctly. The first one on your list should be waiting in the lobby by now so you were quick to take the papers and move along to the waiting room.

“Mrs. Han?” You called, a smile on your face. 

An older woman with a younger one came to a stand, slowly shuffling over to where you waited for them at the door. 

“Hello, Mrs. Han. How are you today?” You asked politely, leading the two women towards the scale. 

“I'm doing great! I'm so excited to share some news about the medicine you gave me.” The older woman exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. 

You hummed, keeping the friendly look as you wrote down her weight on the paper. You told them to follow you to a patient room to speak to her privately. 

“I see it was something for your dementia.” You spoke, moving the laptop in the room closer so you could take down everything the lady would tell you. “Is everything going okay?”

“It's wonderful!” The other lady exclaimed for her mother. At least you assumed it was her daughter from the notes that people already had written for you. Her daughter was the one who was in charge of all Mrs. Han’s things.

“You would not believe it but it's almost as though she's regressed in her illness! Mother was in a terrible state when she was offered this trial medicine. She took it and suddenly it was almost like she went back to before it grew to be terrible.”

You tried to write down what the woman was saying, but you knew there were more questions to ask before concluding the entire meeting. 

“Maybe she can get back to normal if she takes more.” The daughter spoke in a hopeful tone. 

“One step at a time, Mrs. Byun.” You kept the smile on your face so as to not let them think they weren’t going to find the help they needed. “We have to see how long this medicine will last first before giving her more doses.” You explained.

“Also, memory loss is nothing to be overly worried about if it's on occasion. Even I forget something's as well.” You told them. 

If there was one thing you studied, it was medicine. You knew the consequences of taking too much or too little. This company was in the slow movement of developing them so they had to be careful about how they administered their projects. People probably came in thinking they could get more if they worked perfectly the first time. However these kinds of things were tests, not the real deal.

“Of course.” Mrs. Byun nodded in understanding. 

The rest of the visit went by smoothly as you took down all the older woman’s rants and aches about the whole thing. With these kinds of surveys it was really about asking how each patient felt even if it was the smallest of things. You wouldn’t be able to tell if it had to do with the medicine or with something else.

As you told Mrs. Han and her daughter goodbye, scheduling the next appointment, the rest of you patient trickled in one-by-one. 

There was a man who had come in for a bad liver–he was an avid drinker–so the medicine was for corrosion to that organ. While you really tried not to say something about it, you felt annoyed that the man had explained that he still had a drink every once in a while. He was like Mrs. Han, the medicine was doing wonders. 

There was a child who had chickenpox, who’s mother explained that the rash that had taken over her son’s body was slowly dwindling down. Another lady who had come in for amnesia which only said that her memory was returning to before she had gotten into an accident. The others had external injuries like scrapes of their knees or a deep cut that needed stitches. From what you could see they were just given some sort of pain medication. They had expressed that their wounds didn’t hurt and it was actually healing at a fast rate. 

“They really work with a lot of medicine.” You spoke to yourself as you looked over the last file you had. You frowned your eyebrows when you saw the patient was in another level of the building. It was the lower levels, which meant in the basement of sorts. From what you knew that was where the labs were. 

“That's odd.” You tilted your head in confusion but made your way over to the elevators anyway. With your ID card, you pressed onto one of the underground levels, leaning back against the metal wall. When the doors opened, you were met with a lobby that had a couple of different doctors moving about. 

Following the signs, you found the door that led to some of the rooms patients were stationed in. You showed the security guard your ID explaining you were in that level of the building to check up on a patient. He took a look at the file you had in your hand, humming as he opened a door to the back for you. 

Overlooking the file once more to make sure you had the right number, you quietly counted the doors. As you passed by one, you felt a shiver go down your back causing you to halt in your tracks. The number three stared back at you as a weird feeling flowed over your shoulders. It felt like something was brushing up against them, pushing at your form. 

You quickly turned back around making your way to the room next to it. You checked over the file one more time. It didn’t really give you much about the medicine the patient had been given. All it said was that they were someone who was meant to be staying in the building for better observation. There were a couple of papers that you seemed to be missing, you noticed.

Before opening the door, you knocked politely. “Hello?” You softly called as you stuck your head in. 

The only light on was the bedside lamp which illuminated the dark room. You frowned at the aspect of there being no windows that would allow light from outside to come in. As you walked in closer, you let go of the door to have it shut by itself. “Mr. Jeon?”

“Who are you?” You gasped, nearly tripping on your feet from the hard flinch you felt take over. 

You took in the man who was standing behind you, trying to regulate your breathing. He only looked at you with a raised brow, his expression passive. You took up his large form, noticing the blue scrubs he wore were almost tight around his physic. He didn’t wear any shoes–was even foregoing to wear socks. 

“Oh,” You said as your breath returned to your lungs. “My name is (Y/N). Today is my first day so I guess I'll be your new nurse.” You explained to him.

“What are you doing here?” As he took a step closer to you, you subconsciously took one back. “You don't deserve to be here.” His voice went quiet as his eyes turned soft. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in his worried expression, smiling awkwardly as you patted your hands to wipe the sweat forming on them. 

“I needed a job. Got school debt to pay off.” You tried to joke with him. He looked too serious, which made you anxious to touch him for his vitals. “I'm here to do a check up. Would you mind?” You asked, trying to build up the courage to get close to him. 

He didn’t say anything, just poked his cheek with his tongue, moving to the bed. You smiled in thanks, looking around the room to find the equipment needed. You purse your lips when you realize you would need to check his heart rate manually. Finding the padding needed to place around his arm, you made your way over to the man.

He flinched back as your hands moved to touch his arm, causing you to stop. “I’m going to check your heart rate.” You explained, remembering that you were the kind of person to make sure people knew what it was you were going to do. 

As he kept his dark eyes on you, he allowed you to softly touch his scrub sleeve as you moved the fabric up to place the padding in the right area of the arm. You moved your stethoscope from around your neck. “It’s going to be a bit cold.” You whispered. 

As you moved on with the check up, you watched the numbers on the dial move carefully counting to yourself. When you finished getting what you needed, you quickly let go of the air and moved the padding off his arm. As you did that, your eyes seemed to blur over the ink the man had. 

Your fingers gently squeezed his bicep, softly moving down the length of his arm. Your gaze drifted over each color and picture the man had, trying to figure out where one picture ended and the next started. As your fingers glided over his pulse on his wrists, the man involuntarily shivered at the touch. 

“Sorry.” You quickly pulled back, looking back up at him. “Your tattoos are really nice. I've never seen so many.” You bashfully smiled at him. 

He only looked at you curiously, his big eyes taking in your facial expressions. It made you feel flustered as he looked at you so deeply, causing you to lick your lips and look away. 

“You have a very strong heart. Very good blood flow.” You told him, turning away to write down his vitals. He slowly got off the bed and moved closer to you. 

“It doesn't say which medicine you've been taking which is really weird.” You frowned, looking over all the papers that you were given. There were some things missing but you assumed the high ups were looking over it. 

“You're different.” You jumped at the voice that spoke directly behind you. Turning around you tilted your head up at the man.

“How so?” You asked.

“You're nice.” The boy squinted his eyes at you, like he was trying to figure you out.

“Are the others not?” You frowned.

“Not the ones who come down here.” He told you.

You tried to quickly cover up your upset expression, looking up at the doe-eyed man with a smile. “Well I hope I'm able to come down here again.” You took up the paper you had written on. There wasn’t much explanation on what you had to ask him so you chose to go back up and see if you could figure out what else to do.

“Have a good day, Mr. Jeon.” You smiled brightly, waving from the door.

Jungkook tilted his head to the side as a warmth spread through his chest from your words. Not a day had gone by that he wasn't thinking about the dreaded place as though it was a sentence in hell. He had never met someone like you; someone who spoke to him as though he too was a person.

It made him light headed to think about the way your words affected him. He couldn't think of the last time someone had ever uttered those kinds of words to him. It had been so long-alone thinking this was what life was going to be like for the rest of his life. But suddenly things changed in the blink of an eye.

“Maybe.”

Series Masterlist

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I start giving some very *very* Christian family members religious pamphlets from non-Christian religions as gifts?

To be clear, I am writing this while firmly believing I'm NTA but I am angry and don't trust my own judgment too much right now.

Background and Players: My Son (19) was adopted out as a baby by his incubator behind (my husband, 40) his father's back. He was abandoned at 4 by his adopted family because of behavioral issues related to what his incubator was putting into her body while she was pregnant with him, and went into foster care with people I will call Amom and Adad. Adad is a pastor in his 90s and Amom is a pastor's wife in her 80s. When Son was 13 and I had been with Husband for 5ish years, we had been told (by someone from his incubator's family but we didn't know that at the time) he was non-verbal and "mentally an infant" and that trying to pull him out of the routine he had would just be incredibly harmful to him, so we had given up hope of finding him and having a relationship with him. We got a phone call one day, a worker who was looking for a medical history for Son. Husband spent close to 3 hours on the phone with her, answering questions and asking anything he could squeeze in. Turns out, we had been lied to about his mental health just... completely. He's impossible to shut up and he graduated high school last year despite, you know, *gestures vaguely at everything* and I am incredibly proud of him. Half an hour after that call ended, she called back and told us Son might be interested in meeting us, was it okay for her to pass on our contact info. A month later, Son, Amom, Adad, Husband and I were sitting in a restaurant together and a month after that we went to their place for a week to spend Christmas with them. This is when they informed us that they had finalized his legal adoption a couple of weeks earlier. 2 years after that, my QPP moved in with us, and another year later 16 year old Son asked if he could move in with us. He still does.

The Issue: Son wants a continuing relationship with Amom and Adad, but due to the previously mentioned substances used by his incubator, he has memory and time management issues so I have to regularly remind him to contact them. I have no problem doing this, but the contact we have had with them over the last few years has soured me on their company. I've got no problem reminding Son to contact them and organizing rides for him to visit (usually QPP and I driving him, the trip is a couple of hours each way) but I'd rather never speak to them myself if it can be avoided. It didn't start out this way, but over the years they have made it very clear that they don't respect anyone else's beliefs. Not just us, like there was one night where they were going off about some Danish surgeon saying publicly that he was Muslim first, Danish second, and they were trying to convince us to be terrified by that. The conversation ended awkwardly when Husband asked if Adad was Nationality or Christian first (because that's different you see). We have found books on the bookshelves in the guest room about how any kind of queerness at all is demonic possession, one of which they wrote. They talk about things like being sent on a mission by their god to save as many (and I hate that these are quotes) "brown heathen children" by making them Christians as possible (Son and his adopted siblings are all First Nations, Amom and Adad are as white as I am), or how Jewish people are evil for stopping Christians from claiming their suffering because "Jesus was a Jew so aren't all Christians also Jews?". Amom once spent a week trying to convince me to go to church with her and share the details of my childhood sexual abuse with the entire congregation because "it will show God you are ready to be forgiven". QPP is a shintoist and after they found that out, we started seeing more literature about the Japanese, specifically during WWII, around their house when we visited.

We have politely made it clear that we are not interested in Christianity, especially not their version. Multiple times. We thought it was finally over after Son had a meltdown at them at his graduation ceremony because he wanted JUST ONE conversation with them that wasn't about Jesus. He was in tears trying to explain that to them, and their response was to tell him he needed to come back to church so they could lay on hands and chase all the demons making him say these horrible disrespectful things to them out of him. He was supposed to stay with them for a few days to visit after that, but by the time I tracked him down and got him calm, he didn't want to go anymore. They seemed to stop after that, like they actually backed off and I think I got maybe 2 emails that didn't mention God or Jesus, not even a "God bless" in the sign off. We were optimistic. Son was late organizing it but we dropped him off (at his request, he's worried that Adad won't make it to next Christmas and wanted to see him) at their place on Boxing Day. We did not hang around, we did not send gifts, we didn't even reply to the Family Christmas Email (it had a video of a Jordan B Peterson rant embedded in it and I've told them before that we are not interested in anything that sack of hateful arrogance has to say please stop putting him in my inbox). We have done everything we can to make it clear that we do not want a relationship with them for ourselves, including outright directly telling them politely to their faces that we will not stop Son from seeing them but we don't feel comfortable around them and don't want a relationship with them for ourselves. Son came back with "gifts" from them - a study guide for a specific Bible book (I got John, Husband got Michael, QPP set his on fire before we saw who it was) and a bag of candy that looked like it came out of a thrift store (I got the same one they always get me, which I laughed off the first and second and third time and explained I couldn't stand them because my abuser used to give me one when he was done. Husband is diabetic and got York Patties. QPP actually got something decent though, $20 for gas).

I have managed to keep my "I'd rather you hadn't bothered actually" rantingvto Tumblr, which i don't think they even know exists, but I'm still pissed about the Bible crap as "gifts". I am considering changing tactics completely and being super friendly, mirroring their energy, and giving them the same treatment they've given us. I want to make excuses to visit so I can explain the finer points of shintoism and Celtic paganism in every single conversation. I want to give them books for gifts, books like The Tao of Pooh and The Gospel of The Flying Spaghetti Monster. I want to wrap cash in pamphlets about The Invisible Pink Unicorn and leave it on their fridge.

QPP and husband think I should give myself more time to calm down and just keep ignoring it and playing nice when I'm forced to play at all but like, IT'S BEEN 6 YEARS.

What are these acronyms?