#everyone around them and slowly corrupts their mental health :)))))

[anxiously-sidequesting]

Im not saying the Wizard should totally become a full on villain or anything but it they ended up popping the fuck out of Ambrose or someone else after a passive aggressive/jealous/fearful comment or rumor about them, that would be Acceptable actually :)

[idkanametoputhere]

Flinches

type: angst

pronouns: they/them

hotel: trivago

tw: mentions of scars, being hurt in general, mental and physical health collapsing, etc.

slight chapter 6 spoilers

reposting it

masterlist<3 part 2

the prefect of ramshackle, a student that had a good relationship with pretty much everyone they interacted. known for being confident, self-assured, strong and above all fearless. or maybe irrational, who knows?

those are all positive characteristics that got them known as a powerful cahracter amongst all Night Raven students, even though they were incapable of using magic. so it came as a surprise to some students when someone raised their hand to high-five them and they flinched

but it wasn't weird, in fact, if someone really knew the prefect, they would've expected it

it started when they discovered that magic was a thing in this twisted universe they got teleported into. I mean, don't get them wrong, it was very cool but it was terrifying attending a school full of powerful magic users. and they couldn't even understand how magic worked, therefore in their mind, every move could be an attack against the weakest student in that school

and then they saw the horrible side of magic, overblots

the first overblot happened in the first month of them attending NRC. just as they were slowly getting used to magic, they saw how it could corrupt someone. and they felt guilty for driving the heartslabyul dormleader to the point of becoming the red rose tyrrant, as well as not stopping ace's actions

and so they helped as much as they could against the overblot. their quick way of thought and lack of fear, as well as their ability to keep everyone calm was essential to winning against riddle's overblot. he apologized and no one was too harmed

except from the prefect, whose body was not used to magic and therefore was more prone to being hurt by it. they didn't even realize it until later in the night when they took off their uniform just to see a big red mark around their neck, cause by the heavy collar of wrongdoings that riddle casts around one's neck, along with some tiny scars from the rose bushes

but it was okay, nothing a little makeup from sam's store or some proper injury treatment couldn't help with, right?

and then came the second overblot. and once again, feeling slightly guilty, the prefect helped with fighting off the overblot. the king of beast was a more difficult opponent, but the prefect wasn't scared. they had to stay calm so they could think clearly and therefore win against the monster they had helped create

and they won, and nothing was too bad. if you ignore the way one of their wrists was thinner than the other one, and redder, an almost hand-like imprint on it, almost as if someone grabbed their wrist and it started turning into dust. but it was okay, they just started wearing some gloves that reached up to higher up in their arms than their wrist, it was getting colder after all so it wasn't too weird

and of course, no one dared to speak a word of hiw the beloved prefect would sometimes wince when writing or how there had been multiple instances of them carrying something in their closed hand and drop it while holding their wrist

but the prefect was alright. yeah they were okay

the third overblot came quickly after this one and it made them wonder, how come they didn't consider this as a flaw in their plan? I mean, they had now learned that overblots were not that uncommon. how come the usually sharp prefect was not as collected as usual?

but that didn't matter, they had an overblot to stop. and they stopped it, with the only drawback being the few suction cup marks around their waist and torso and how they were constantly cold, shivering at any given point

but I mean, at least azul was okay, right?

and then there was the holiday break. it was the first holiday break that they wouldn't be spending with their parents. it was lonely to say the least. even the flaming cat-like companion of theirs could not warm their hearts

but the scarabia students did. they welcomed the prefect and their cat friend with open arms, making them feel at home. until of course it all came crashing down when jamil overblotted

and people werent there to help them. I mean, sure the octavenille trio was there but there was no one the prefect could feel comfortable with. but they had to win the overblot, they HAD to win it

and win they did, only a few permanent marks and bruises on their body being left as a reminder of how much they gave for the boys of twisted wonderland

their theory was only fuether proved during the festival. oh how they had forgotten of all the horrible things that happen in this world, they just wanted to see a friendly competition, like the ones they had back home

what they weren't expecting is to be poisoned. poisoned by the fairest queen himself, the person who they admired, poisoned by them. the bitter taste of the liquid they drank was one they'd never forget

but there they were fighting against the overblots once again, their forehead bleeding from a random piece of the stage that fell on them and their body slowly giving out due to the poison

but the overblot was defeated, the housewarden of pomefiore was back, the stage was fixed, the festival was continued and a cure for the poison was given to the prefect

but that cure could not take care of the scar on their forehead or the black veins that stared on their neck and ended on their stomach, like a spider web that permanently stained their body and blood with the horrible poison, that often gave them a lot of pain

but they had to move forward

they. had. to. move. forward.

and then there was idea's overblot. it was a shame really, the sob story of him losing his beloved brother and how he was to blame. almost made the prefect sad, you know if they weren't fighting for their life that is

but they fought and won and got the third-year back, and ortho took care of them. but he couldn't take care of the large burn marks that made it difficult for the prefect to move

but everything was fine

no

no

NO

NOTHING was fine

the prefect looked at themself at the mirror one night after taking a shower, but they only saw a monster. full of scars, discolored body parts, marks. things that no one could heal

and the scars were not only physical

I wonder, how many times did the prefect wake up with horrible nightmares, a sick feeling to their stomach? or how many days did they collapse the moment they got back to ramshackle? and how many times did they talk to their friends through gritting teeth, the pain being overwhelming from them?

but no one noticed. hell, the prefect could bet that no one cared. but then it happened

someone tried to high five them and they flinched. they tried to play it off, but ended up running away in guilt and embarassment. but it was enough

oh it was enough

enough for the people who considered the prefect their friend to understand how fucked up they were. enough to make them understand hiw they had to try and help them

but the damage had already been done and it was irreversible.

original A/N: OMG I LOVE THIS I HAVENT WRITTEN SMTH THIS LONG IN A WHILE BUT I LOVE IT

new A/N: I'm reposting this cause it flopped last time but aanywho haha tumblr tou are so cool and good and nice and lovely please show my writing to ppl it took me 2 days to write this

[deth-of-a-junkie]

i have a lot of postal dude headcanons, so ive split them up.

so heres my postal 1 dude headcanons

p1 dude has a special interest on the jets and weaponry used in ww2 and the vietnam war, but also the U.S military as a whole. he specifically likes to collect vintage U.S military memorabilia and propaganda. he can go on for hours about the faults of the government and government greed and corruption, he hates the system. he also knows a lot about JFK assassination theories and will go on for hours about them.

oh yeah. postal 1 dude is autistic.

he also has a spin on guns. he knows them all by name and loves to learn about different manufacturers and how each one are built. he knows how to deconstruct them and put them back together. he even has some guns he's made himself. legal? probably not. he doesnt care.

p1 dude also prefers reading in books for information instead of searching the web for them, so amongst the mess of his house is just piles upon piles of books.

p1 dude also is great at poetry. he loves writing too, which is why i think he started his diaries.

he also loves drawing! he loves going out and drawing scenery the most, he also likes drawing nude figures. he finds the human body to be interesting.

p1 dude is religious. im divided on if i see him as someone whos spiritually aligned closer to catholics (though i wouldnt call him a straight up catholic, he doesn't like the church.) or pagen.

talking about pagen dude, correct me if im wrong, i dont know much about pagenism (but ive been trying to learn more as of recent), but he specifically worships greek gods. out of the gods, his favorite is ares.

he hangs around poostall dude a lot. they arent really friends, they're kinda opposites of each other, but poostall looks up to him as a mentor in philosophy among other things.

he used to be active in his local punk scene when he was younger. he has a lot of cds and tapes of obscure bands that almost no one has heard of.

he loves metal more then anything though, and he also has a large collection of horror films (all on vhs, a few of dvd. he doesnt have his dvd player plugged in so he only uses it if he has too. also refused to buy blueray. if its the only option he burns it onto a disk himself.).

his favorite genres of metal are melodic death metal and prog metal. i would also say dsbm but i feel like thats too corny. he loves opeth. also death.

he's non-speaking most of the time by choice. the older he's gotten the more he started to isolate himself, and he usually chooses to ignore people when theyre talking and not respond at all, mainly just people who ask for directions and stuff on the street he'll just ignore. he just doesnt feel the need too, he likes to stay invisible.

talking about that, he hates leaving his house. it used to be because of anxiety but it slowly became due to his other mental health issues getting worse, especially his fear of everyone being out to get him/everyone else being demons/whatever your interpretation of his reasonings behind postal 1 is.

3 in one shampoo. also uses hand soap to shave instead of shaving cream. also uses hand soap to wash his face...

he needs glasses. his sunglasses also has his normal prescription lenses in them, his eyes are sensitive to light so he chose to make them sunglasses too (i believe this is possible. if its not, well it is now). he also has a 2nd pair that are just normal glasses, he uses them only to read or when he's walking around his house at night. (this is totally not me self reflecting with the realization that i just found out i need glasses..../s)

I DONT KNOW HOW I FORGOT TO MENTION but also has a special interest on nuclear disasters, nuclear power plants, and radiation. theyre not separate theyre all apart of one fixation that branches off the core idea of nuclear power. like he cant have one without the other. if that makes sense.

also uses he/they. he doesnt out right say it, he doesnt use social media so its not like, in a bio or anything. he just naturally picked it up. will also accept she being used to refer to himself, but is not something he states publicly or asks people to do. he was surrounded by the queer community growing up as most of his highschool friends were apart of the community so he just one day realized he wasnt opposed to it being used in reference to himself.

he is an ASSHOLE. he used to be more considerate in his youth but the older he got the grumpier he got. he is SCARY when he insults someone. like he will have an entire ass speech of him just degrading someone until they literally have nothing left to say for themselves.

doesnt get angry though. he's calm when hes upset and frustrated, or will straight up just make fun of and make harsh jokes about the situation (i mean that like. if he gets into a disagreement with someone on the street he will laugh at them and mock them by teasing them. thats what i mean.)

[bugflies00]

some days ill be going about my day and then ill think about how much and unfairly cwilbur was ostracized and i feel ill .

because yeah, he fucked up and he hurt people and he was an asshole sometimes. he’s a very flawed character whose bad habits & self image impact his actions and reasoning and it ends up hurting people cause he can be pretty self-centered. some characters were obviously justified in not trusting him and didn’t owe him forgiveness. but also oh my fucking god

like NO ONE got NEARLY as much shit for their mistakes as cwilbur did. barely anyone gave him a chance the moment he was revived, and they all treated him like some kind of ticking bomb or generally a threat when he was clearly trying to change. hell, even ctommy, while he was arguably the one who stuck closest to him and was most lenient with him, said some pretty fucked up shit. like so many people implied or acted in some way or another like it was better off for everyone when he was dead. people preferred his GHOST. because ghostbur was wilbur but wrong, meaning really in their eyes he was right because wilbur was wrong. that’s the message he was getting. like sorry but if i were him i would also feel a lot of fucking resentment towards that guy. and im saying that as someone whose favourite character was ghostbur for like my first two months. (wilbur and ghostbur being the same person is an integral belief of mine but its also a different post)

and even BEFORE. in pogtopia. yeah people tried to help him but. did they really? tommy tried his best but, at the end of the day, given the average mental health awareness on this server no one truly tried to give him the help he needed (although ctommy was 16 and it literally wasn’t his responsibility, again im talking more about other characters). can you imagine how alone he must’ve felt? seeing the project he built his life and self-worth on rot and corrupt? slowly feeling himself sink deeper into paranoia and depression? while everyone watched on and kept him at arm’s length because of the threat he represented to others, rather than himself?

everyone around him focused on the fact that he blew up l’manberg and ostracized him for it, when doomsday trio who objectively made extensively worse damage to the place received nowhere near that level of criticism. sure they had enemies and not everyone trusted them, but people were willing to talk to them. get close to them. they weren’t treated like the fucking scum of the earth and someone who should die because of mistakes that they tried so hard to amend and that they made when in the worst mental health spiral of their life to the point where they wanted to die.

so yeah cwilbur deserved better

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

X's And Bones: The Creator's Work Station

Chapter 1: Soul Bases and Colors

White (upside down) - Monster Soul (Love)

Shades of Gray - Lost Soul, Lost their traits (Can be gained back {colored gray}, or get new traits {Completely cloud gray}: Can be done so through experiences and relationships)

Dusty White - No trait (They haven't discovered their traits yet, so like really young children or ???)

Cracked Souls (Charcoal Cracks) - Suffer from Mental Illness/Addictions/Accidents (Can be healed with time, care, and love) Can cause mental, emotional illnesses and issues. With the Main 7 Traits of souls, it can invert them, causing them physical pain and personality flips.

Healed Cracks (Colored Lines) - Depending on how the crack was healed/solved, the line will take on the color of the secondary trait or of the soul color that was used to fix the causation of the crack. (If a Yellow soul used patience to solve a Justice issue, the crack would be healed with a cyan line)

Fractured Souls (pieces are missing) - Suffered/Commited accidents/crimes/major injuries (Can be healed with time, care, and love) Can cause major emotional, mental, and severe physical illnesses and issues.

Fracture Fixes (Parts being restored) - If a soul is fractured, however they are regaining health and events have caused healing, then the fractures can slowly grow back the pieces missing. These pieces could look discolored compared to the other parts (lighter or darker, like spots) or even perhaps be grayed out.

Darkened/Black Souls - Evil, Hatred, Psychopathic, Sociopathic etc. These souls are corrupted and feel mostly nothing but negative emotions. These are criminals who have committed the worst of the worse crimes, and (usually) can NOT be redeemed. HOWEVER... Some can, especially by certain other Souls.

Color blotches/Shapes/Marks on the Soul - Lucky you! This means you have a soul mate! Everyone has one, some have 2, others have many more! The more marks on the heart, the more soul mates you have! The marks appear once you make contact with your soul mate, but they become vibrant once bonded! There are 2 types of soulmates, romantic and platonic. Romantic soul marks have a golden ring around them, while platonic has a silver ring. Monster soul mate marks are heart shaped, while human soul mate marks are star shaped.

PS: Soulmates are found through touch, however you can get a 6th sense feeling around a soulmate. Soulmarks ONLY appear after touching your soulmate... in some way.

Opal White Ring Around the Soul (human) - Wow! You are able to use Magic! You have the bloodline of one of the 7 powerful mages that sealed Monster's away. The only way to 'activate' the magic first hand would be to be taught by a monster. Who teaches you, will help decide what magic you can use. (also decided by soul traits, and who was the mage/monster in your bloodline.) ********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** THE MAIN 7 TRAITS:

Red - Determination

Cyan - Patience

Orange - Bravery

Yellow - Justice

Blue - Integrity

Purple - Perseverance

Green - Kindness

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

MAIN 7 NEGATIVE/INVERTED SOUL TRAITS (if they go bad/pushed too far)

Cracked Red - Spite *** Dark Red - Irresolution/Indecision

Cracked Cyan - Idleness *** Dark Cyan - Agitation/Hastiness

Cracked Orange - Audacity *** Dark Orange - Cowardice/Fear

Cracked Yellow - Vengeance *** Dark Yellow - Corruption/Prejudice

Cracked Blue - Conceit *** Dark Blue - Dishonesty/Iniquity

Cracked Purple - Inflexible *** Dark Purple - Apathy/Submission

Cracked Green - Compliance *** Dark Green - Animosity/Cruelty

[neon-poison]

Generalized Timeline

Decided to hop onto my laptop after deciding against getting candy but still going to the dentist’s (ah, life on the utter edge) so I could fill this out really quick. This is just how the timeline works on this blog, it won’t feature any episodes like the other blogs I have for LMK might, mostly because Syntax and Weave don’t really have a massive role in 99% of said episodes, and mostly just do their own thing. SO, this will be divided by season as opposed to episode!

Pre-Season One/Pilot

Syntax and Weave meet, a few days after Weave first entered this strange new world. Being of a different mind and more openly chaotic than most, Syntax decides to begin studying them.

A friendship develops. Unbeknownst to both of its inhabitants, feelings also slowly develop along with said friendship.

A few years in, Syntax quits his job at the lab he works at.

Season One

Syntax is hired by Spider Queen, and begins working on a delivery system for a specialized variant of her venom he helped create that can take over the minds of all those under its influence, changing them in body and brain to be her minions.

The scientist tells Writer that he’s quit and been hired for a new, better job under Spider Queen. Writer assumes that the name is a nickname given to his new boss, and cracks a few jokes about spiders and webs. Syntax is confused as his feelings grow worse.

Season Two

Syntax is betrayed and injected with his own modified chemicals. Due to a small mishap in the chemicals, his loyalties become split even as his body and mind are irrevocably altered beyond repair. Despite the venom having been made to make one loyal to Spider Queen alone, he finds that he cannot bring himself to harm Writer in any way- and that a good portion of his mental faculties have remained his own... But he can’t deny any request/order Spider Queen puts to him.

He continues to tinker with the venom even as it is mass-produced and mass-administered, not quite realizing what saved his mind from total corruption.

Writer manages to evade being put under the venom’s effects due to their talisman AoE.

Spider Queen is defeated, and Syntax retreats with her- not before looking back, seeing his friend standing among the survivors, and realizing he can’t bare to be seen as he is now.

LBD more fully takes control of operations, and Syntax finds himself.... Unnerved.

LBD’s betrayal comes to light. The Mayor attacks and kills Syntax’s allies, while leaving Syntax for dead on the streets above, guiding Writer towards his broken body so Syntax can suffer in his last moments. The Mayor only leaves when Syntax loses consciousness, right as Writer crosses his path.

Writer manages (somehow) to carry the broken form of their barely-recognizable friend back to their postage-stamp of a condo.

Season Three

Throughout the season, Writer manages to fly under LBD and The Mayor’s radar due to an insane amount of luck. They spend the majority of the season slowly nursing Syntax back to proper health, doing their best even as the world comes crashing down all around them.

LBD does not kill everyone in Megapolis- she holds the entire city ‘hostage’ up until she is defeated by MK and gang.

Post-Season Three

Now back in proper health, Syntax manages to get his old job back by liberally applying the victim card. He still can’t quite believe that Writer helped to heal him, especially given his appearance and acts.

Syntax buys a home up in the mountains that Writer (a year or so prior) had pointed out as being their ‘dream home’. He hands them the keys on the stipulation that he will also be living there, to save at least a hint of cost.

The two move into the building, and now both try to work as normally as they can in the city while going out together for coffee and the like (and the stares the two get are usually returned with glares).

MAINVERSE BEGINS.

[madstwd]

That Damn Dress

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.8k

Season: 5

Warnings: SMUT, minors DNI, praise kink, virgin reader, corruption kink, overstimulation

Not proof read

Hope you enjoy this one! My mental health is slowly improving so hopefully more updates! Thank you all so much for 600 followers and sticking around whilst I've taking a mini break.

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

He wasn't even sure why he dressed up, why he showered or even considered the invite to the ‘welcome’ party. It wasn't like he went to them when the world was fine. He didn't need to go, Aaron just said try. Daryl fixed his shirt after what felt like the 1000th time. His hair longer framing his thin face from the lack of food, small strands of ginger hair poking out from his beard. He looked stupid, he stood putting himself down. Wondering why he even got to this point, but then he remembered you, the person that he did everything for. The reason he lived, breathed and continued fighting for. He remembered how excited you were when you had found the dress, refusing to let him see it until the night. You had run out to the porch with a huge grin on his face, one that he found almost blinding, one that made him unable to hide his grin no matter how hard he tried. He pulled on his leather vest to make the outfit feel more like him, after all Aaron told him to be himself. With one last sigh he left the house, his body desperate for your attention.

He made it to the door fairly quickly, he stood watching the silhouettes of people move around, laugher echoing down the street. His hands felt clammy, his feet unable to move forward. “HEY! There you are” he heard you exclaim, he relaxed at the sound of your feet on the concrete street as you ran towards him. He turned to the sound of your voice, his eyes widening as he spotted the body hugging red dress, highlighting every sway of your hips, cupping your breasts perfectly. He gulped loudly as he took a moment to regain his thoughts. “You like it?” You said, spinning on the spot, small giggles leaving your lips at his gobsmacked expression. He nodded enthusiastically, a smile etched on his face, following a light dust of pink as he continued to look you up and down. “Yeah-yeah I like. it” he grumbled. His heart swelled at the size of your smile. “Do you want to go in?” You said holding out your arm to him, he shrugged unsure for himself. Part of him wanted to, to prove everyone wrong but he didn’t understand why these were still a thing. You on the other hand though after everything you guys had done and seen, you didn’t understand the thought to celebrate. Unsure on why we were meant to, after seeing each other’s family members fall, the numerous close calls we all had. “We don’t have to, fuck what the others think” you said to him, your arm locking in with his. Despite your hold on him he didn't feel pressure, it was like you were the only one that understood he didn't want to go, why he didn't want to go. “Come on, let's eat dinner at the house” you said tugging on his arm to draw his attention away from the house. He followed you blindly, “don’t you want to go?” He asked, his voice low and grumbly from him rarely speaking the past few days. You shrugged. “Part of me did, but I don’t feel like partying when there’s so many that would have loved this that didn't make it” you sighed. Daryl grunted, nodding his head slightly in agreement with your words. “Besides Deanas' sons clearly haven’t been laid for a while, they are very persistent” you joked, a laugh escaping your lips.

Daryl felt his blood boil, his fingers digging into the palm of his hands. A reaction that even surprised the man himself, jealously didn’t come natural to the man. “Want me to tell them to back off?” He mumbled, his mind acting faster than his brain. You giggled at his reactions. “I don’t need a big bad guy like you to back a guy off” you joked, nudging his shoulder lightly. Daryl’s cheeks turned pink, his frame shrinking as if he was trying to hide in himself. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want one though- i have ways you can help” you winked. Daryl’s eyes widened, he was surprised his mouth didn't fall open either. You laughed loudly at his reaction, your hand sliding into his grasp firmly. Daryl slowly clasped his hand around yours, suddenly his insecurities about the evening and night disappearing in the night as you firmly held him. “Hey Guys, Party over that soon?” Aaron called from across the street, alerting the both of you. “Just didn’t want to go”

“At least you tried right” he shrugged. You both gave a tight lipped smile to the guy, nodding. “Yeah, thought that counts or some bullshit” you joked. Aaron laughed before he gestured inside. “Come on in? We just made spaghetti” he smiled. You squeezed Daryl's hand before lightly dragging him towards the door. His eyes lingered on the way the dress hugged and outline the swell of your ass. His cheeks became red yet again at the thought of touching it.

The spaghetti was delicious, daryl couldn’t decide whenever that was because of the food itself or how it slid through your lips that were painted a similar colour to the dress. He nervously shifted on his seat as his pants became tighter. You shot him a questioning look, one that was attempting to ask if he was okay, the man nodded his cheeks flushed almost giving his thoughts away to you. “I didn’t ask Deanna to give you a job because i have one for you” aaron said as he finished dinner. Daryl shot him a confused look as he loudly set his cutlery in his bowl following aaron out of the room. You stood up helping Eric with the plates, offering to wash up or help clean. “Oh no dear don’t worry, seems like someone is eager for your attention tonight lovely” he joked giving you an exaggerated wink. You gave him a wide smile, shrugging. “I mean i guess, I’ve never done….it. But better with him than her sons” you joked nervously. Erics eyes widened, “you’ve never? Not even with daryl?”

You shook your head, “never had anyone to do it with, and with being on the run didn't really feel like the right time” you joked, rubbing your arms nervously. Your inexperience was always something that made you nervous, Daryl was a few years older than his brother, often talking about how many women Daryl would bring home. You always assumed he was joking, but part of you was worried he wasn't, wondering if you could ever please him because you didnt actually know how. You were distracted from your thoughts by the guys thud back upstairs. A large grin plastered on Aaron’s face, a tight lipped on daryls face. You gave him a smile as you wiped your hands on your dress. The fabric pulling down slightly as you did so, daryl sputtered out a cough nervously as your breasts became exposed for a slight section, the tension in his trousers returning quickly. “You ready to go?” You smiled. Daryl nodded nervously, his fingers fiddling with a loose thread on his shirt. After giving your goodbyes you walked down the stairs, waiting for Daryl to finish his.

Daryl stopped on the first step, watching as the light breeze drifted your hair over your shoulders, your arms cupping under your breasts in attempt to keep warm. The position of your arms pushing them upwards as if they are about to spill out over the top. He smiled lightly as he walked downt the steps, you linked on of your arms with his, the scent of vanilla now filling his nose as your hair fell over his face slightly. “So what did he show you?”

“An old bike, needs fixing but keeps the hands busy” he grumbled nervously. You smiled at him nodding, “sure! Well im pooped lets get home yeah?” You said. Daryl nodded, dragging you slightly towards the house, trying not to notice your breasts bouncing at the increased speed.

Once you were both inside the house he watched you run upstairs, swearing under his breath as he frantically tried to release his cock from his trousers before making a quick run downstairs to his room. However his stupid plan failed when you had appeared at the top of the stairs, now in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts. His face flushed red, his lips already trying to stutter out some bullshit excuse for the predicament he had caught himself in. He felt like he was a deer in headlights unable to move from his spot, unable to defend himself. His body backed away as you slowly came down the stairs the door and his underwear the only things preventing him from running away from you. Escaping and never looking back. His gasped moving away from your touch as he felt you fingers touch his face, your attempt at bringing his lips to yours. “It’s okay” you whispered, your lips ghosted over his almost making him drop right there. He felt your lips touch his, savouring the soft plumpness of them as he kissed you. His hands weaving into the back of your hair, grasping your scalp firmly as he let desire control him. “Are you sure?” He asked you pulled away. You smiled nodding softly, if you were going to have your first time at least it would be with someone you liked. He gently led you towards his room, his trousers and shoes discarded at the front door. His heart was thumping in his chest, suddenly the innocent hand holding felt heavy. He had imagined this countless times in the prison, dreams he never thought woudl surface or come true. His door creaked loudly as he opened it, the sound of your feet padding behind him ensured it wasnt a dream it was real. He turned back towards you, his hands finding their way to your hips as he captured your lips yet again. You moaned quietly into the kiss as you felt his hands move to the soft plush of your ass. Squeezing handful of it, small circles to soothe any irritated skin. “Daryl-“ you muttered, his lips muffling your voice. He pulled back, his face scanning your nervously like you were going to change your mind. “I’ve never…um..you know-“

“Had sex?”

You nodded, your eyes falling to your body pressed against his. He chuckled lowly, his finger and thumb lightly grasping your chin, lifting your head back to his. “I can show you how- if you want me to of course?” He questioned, his voice low dripped with desire. You nodded. “Say it”

“I-i need you daryl”

Daryl grinned, moving your body’s to the bed. His fingers ghosted your shirts hem, lifting it over your head. His groaned slightly at the sight of your bra missing, your nipples perking from the cool breeze brushing past. His fingers tweaked and turned them loving the soft whines leaving your mouth, your eyebrows contorted in confusion, your body enjoying the pleasure but also unsure. Your legs shivered when his hand found its way to your thigh, soft squeezing it and inching closer to your pussy. The shorts being the only thing keeping him away from it. “Daryl, I like that” you said smiling. Daryl could have melted, the sweet innocence of you enjoying his touch, telling him how much you like it. He moved forward, his body forcing you to the bed causing you to gasp in shock when you fell on the surprisingly comfy bed. His body towered over you, trapping you against the mattress, “you alright?” He asked his lips kissing the nape of your neck softly sucking in some spots. “Yes Daryl- please can I have more” you begged. Daryl smirked against your neck, his fingers hooked under the waistband of the shorts. “Lift” he instructed. You followed blindly lifting your hips to allow the shorts to slide down your legs. You spread them for him, displaying your area for him. Daryl's cock grew harder the thought of only him touching this, being the only one to experience was enough for him to bust.

He kissed up your legs, his wiry beard tickling your thighs as he moved closer. You whined feeling his breath against your pussy, the air cooling the juices already pouring out of it. “You're doing so perfectly for me, being so wet like this. Such a good girl” he muttered, his fingers beginning to tease the entrance, speeding the juices all over your pussy. You hissed in pleasure when his thumb brushed against your clit. “D-do that again please” you asked. Daryl smirked, his long hair falling out of place as he nodded. He started to circle the sensitive nub, his intended to turn you on enough it would be pretty much pain free for you when he entered. He listened to the whines and moans leaving your lips, your breath catching in your throat when he changed direction. Your hands gripped his forearms as he sped up, your legs bucking off the mattress as he gently twisted and flicked your clit. “Daryl…this is….perfect” you panted. Your eyes screwed shut tightly, nails drawing blood in his forearms. Daryl looked down at your squirming mess of a body as you twisted and gripped onto for dear life. His cock leaking pre cum through his boxers at the sight of you. “Come on girl let me know how it feels” he purred, encouraging the noises leaving your mouth. You felt his hand move towards your entrance, his finger slowly entering scissoring you open. Your grip tightened as you got used to the feeling of him inside, slowly moaning louder as he began to curl his fingers. The motion stimulating your g-spot brings you closer to what you assumed was an orgasm. “Daryl please like that don't change” you whined. Daryl listened to you, keeping his pace as he felt your body tighten ready for an orgasm. Not disobeying your order so he could keep it as pain free and pleasurable as possible.

“That's it girl, cum for me” he whispered. With one last flick and curl you came undone. Your body relaxes against his bed and hands as your walls pulsate around your hands. “Good girl,” he purred. He stood up from the bed causing you to hastily look up watching him pull his boxers down exposing his cock. The tip was angry and red as it stood against his stomach.

At first you were surprised at the size, worried how it would fit. Daryl didn't give you much room to think as his fingers went back to massaging your clit. Readying you for his cock. When he deemed it enough he slowly started to enter, waiting every so often to allow you to stretch and get used to it. Your clit would distract you at the slight burn he was causing but the true pleasure didn't happen until you gave him the okay to move. Daryl almost combusted then at the loud moans leaving your mouth. Daryl himself couldn't hold in any groans. “Shit bird- it's like you were made for me, for this cock” he groaned. Pushing through his pleasure to allow you to finish around his cock, he wanted to feel your walls clench around him. Milk him like he dreamed you would. “Come on pretty girl, I need you to come” he grunted, his thrusts became faster, hitting you in the right spot. Daryl knew this from your hitched breaths as he pulled out and bottomed back in. “Daryl- I'm close please” you whimpered. He watched as your hands gripped the sheets,pillows, his arms, anything you could grab. Your legs automatically wrap around him, trapping him in place as he thrusted in and out of you. “I'm close dear, come on cum” he said, thrusting faster out of you. His hand pinching and twisting your clit. You felt the cord snap, your cum flowing over Daryl's dick as he thrusted through the orgasm, the pleasure dragging out causing your eyes to water at it. Your legs became jelly releasing the man from the trap you had him in. Daryl quickly pulled out his cum spurting all over your exhausted body. A sight he wants to remember forever.

The man grabbed some tissues he had next to the bed, clearing you up before collapsing next to you. Unsure on how to care for someone after their first time, so he allowed you to come back to your senses. When you eventually do, he allows you to curl up against him, feeling your soft fingertips trace the letters of his tattoo before the two of you slowly drift off to sleep.

You snuck out in the morning, dressed in one of his shirts and underwear to get to your room hoping not to bump into anyone on the way. “Good night?” You heard Michonne speak from the kitchen. You silently cursed before shuffling to the kitchen. She looked over her cup at you, one eyebrow raised waiting for your response. “The dress worked” was all you replied before continuing your walk of shame back to your bedroom.

[darkmulti]

Hello I love your work so much, you are my fav writer I love your style and the way you paint your ideas! <3

I know you must have a lot of requests but could you please do a hard dom CEO jungkook, with innocent reader. Would be nice if you can add corruption kink, degrading and non con. Thank you!

⚠️: NON CON, DEGRADATION, CORRUPTION KINK, INNOCENT!READER, VIRGIN!READER, slapping, choking

-> I’m glad you like my work!! Sorry for the wait tho😭

-> I didn’t “add” too much corruption kink because it’s kinda hard to incorporate corruption kink and non con

-> sorry for any mistakes

“Y/N! In my office now!”

The moment you sat down on your chair, your boss called you again

You quickly stood up and hustled into his office

“Yes, Mr. Jeon. Is something wrong?”

You politely asked

“What the hell did you put in my coffee?”

“Regular, sir. Two milks and one sugar.”

“Did you check the expiration date on the milk?”

“Uh… no”

“God damnit! Are you trying to poison me, Y/N?! You can’t do the simplest tasks right! Get out of my sight.”

“Sir, I can make you another-”

“I said get out!”

You immediately left his office and sped off into your own

You closed the door gently before covering your mouth and bursting out into tears

The constant yelling and degrading was slowly breaking you down

He never appreciated any of your hard work, instead he focused on the small flaws you made

You knew you deserved better so that night you went home and wrote a resignation letter

The next day you went to work and gave it to Mr. Jeon

“Mr. Jeon, this is my resignation letter. I can’t work here anymore. It’s not good for my mental health.”

He poked his inner cheek with his tongue and crumbled the letter

“You have to give me a two weeks notice. That way I can start looking for your replacement. However, I have a business trip next week and you have to come with me.”

“What if I find someone that can take my place?”

“No, I want you to go with me and that’s final.”

Next week

You were at the airport with your carry on bag in hand and your passport in the other

Jungkook was in front of you, leading the way to the private jet

Once you both were seated, he poured himself and you a drink

“So, tell me why you want to quit.” He said, taking a sip of his Blue Label whiskey

You didn’t want to tell him the real reason, which was because of him

You thought it’d make the trip more awkward if he knew that you were quitting because of him and you also didn’t want to sound mean

So the best excuse you could come up with was that you found a more suitable job

You told him lies after lies, thinking that he was believing you

Little did you know, Jungkook could see right through you

He knew the real reason you were quitting was because of him

He was purposely cruel to you and you’ve finally reached your breaking point

It was amusing to him

Did you really think that you could trick him?

How cute

Jungkook knew that whole suitable job excuse was a lie because he keeps his eyes on you all day and night

While you were asleep, Jungkook broke into your apartment and installed tiny cameras all around

So he could keep an eye on you

He also hacked into your phone and installed a tracking app, just in case

He got access to all your emails, social media, phone calls, photos, text messages — ect.

Anyways, back to the private jet

You were in the back of the jet sleeping since it was a long flight and you get air sick

You felt something around your waist so you looked down and see a tattooed arm

You immediately recognized who it was and got up, waking up Jungkook in the process

“I- I’m sorry, sir. You should’ve woke me up and I would’ve given you the bed.”

“It’s fine, we’re about to land anyways.”

After you guys landed, you both headed towards the car in the hangar

The driver took you both to a luxury hotel

The building itself was super unique

The transparent, rooftop pool was definitely something you were looking forward to

Jungkook had paid for your hotel room

You guys had rooms right next to each other so it’s more convenient for him

It was still 10 in the morning, so Jungkook allowed you to sleep for a little while but by 12pm, you guys had to leave for an important meeting

The afternoon was packed with meetings, presentations & preparations for a small business party

You were exhausted because Jungkook kept you running back and forth while he was sitting on his ass

By the end of the day you were tired as hell, but luckily everything went smoothly

Jungkook seemed to be okay with how everything turned out

You were relieved to say the least

He’d usually find something to complain about

It was 10pm when you both arrived at the hotel

Jungkook said he was going to go shower and sleep so you bid goodnight and went into your room

Even though you were physically and mentally exhausted, your mind couldn’t fall asleep

You figured it was because of the amount of coffee you consumed

Since you couldn’t fall asleep, you decided to put on your swimming suit and go upstairs to try out the pool

Once the elevator doors opened, you were surprised to see so many people on the rooftop dancing and drinking

You still went to the pool even though it was loud and packed

On your way to the pool, you accidentally bumped into a group of guys

They notice your somewhat revealing swimming suit and offered a drink

You were going to reject but all of them were pressuring you to have at least one drink with them, so you stupidly agree

One drink turned into two and so on

You started dancing with the guys and they were all cheering you on

This was it

This was the attention you were craving for

You were a little wasted but still had your senses

You held one of the boy’s hand and took him to the swimming pool

“You said you were good at swimming… so make sure I don’t drown.” You drunkly said before jumping in

The man chuckled at your behaviour and jumped in afterward to make sure you don’t do anything dumb

After swimming, you had more drinks and danced more with everyone

The night was going so well until someone pulled you away from all the chaos

“Heyyyy, what’re you doing man? The party’s over there.” You said, pointing back to the crowd

He wasn’t responding so you tried to look at his face but the lights were burning your eyes

You looked down at his arm and recognize his tattoos

Once you realized who he was, it was too late

“M- Mr. Jeon, why’re you up so late?”

He brought you back to his room and shoved you in

Jungkook pushed you against the door and slapped you hard

It brought you back to reality real fast

“Are you dumb, Y/N?! Going upstairs without telling me anything, drinking and dancing with men you don’t know— do you know how dangerous that is?! Is your head hollow?!” He yelled in your face and hit the side of your head a couple of times, checking if it was hollow

“Do you know what they would’ve done to you if I didn’t come?! Let me fucking show you.”

He pushed you towards the bed and you slipped because of your wet feet

You started backing away from him, but you knew you were doomed when your back hit the side of the bed

“Mr. Jeon, please. I was just trying to have fun-” another hard slap landed on your cheek and this one was enough to make you tear up

“Fun? You want to have fun? Okay then, let’s have some fun.”

He pulled you up by your wrist and pushed you down on the bed

“Mr. Jeon, please! I’m so sorry! I don’t know how it all happened!”

You were sobbing at this point because Jungkook looked terrifying

He was beyond pissed and his eyes were showing it all

“You think a “sorry” can fix what you did?! You’re so fucking stupid! This is why I yell at you all the time because your dumb, little head knows nothing. Without me, you wouldn’t be living so comfortably. I give you a good pay, so you can pay rent, buy food and clothes without worrying about money. But, what do I get in return? A resignation letter…” he scoffs before continuing “… You’re just a dumb, naive, whore that would be homeless right now if I didn’t take care of you. Maybe this is why your parents abandoned you.”

Your bottom lip started to wobble and before you knew it, you were bawling your eyes out in front of him

His words were so harsh, you weren’t ready for it at all

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You apologized over and over and over but he still wasn’t satisfied

“H- how can I make it up? Please, give me a chance.”

His hand went towards your private area and you started shaking your head profusely

“No, no, no… anything but that please…”

“Well, there’s nothing else that you have that I want.”

“I’m n- not comfortable though.”

Jungkook grabbed your face and stared deep into your eyes

“Does it look like I care?”

Jungkook continued on

He ripped your swim suit off and pulled down his pants

“Please be gent-”

You screamed when you felt him push into you

You grabbed his arms and tried to push him away but he easily dominated you

He pinned your hands above your head and spat down on his cock for some lube

Without any warning, he pushed his full length in, causing you to squirm around and cry

Your purity blood dripped down onto the bed sheets while you kept pleading for him to stop

“Mr. Jeon, please! I- I was sa- saving till marriage.” You sobbed

“That’s even better. Now we can get married.”

“No! No! I don’t want that.”

Jungkook pushed your legs apart and started going at a fast pace

“You don’t want to get married to me? Well, that’s too bad because I don’t care about what you want.”

Each of his thrust were powerful and rough

He wrapped his hand around your neck so anytime you rejected him in a way, he’d squeeze until you’d shut up

Your face was hot and red from all the slapping and choking

He covered your neck in hickeys

All night, he was fucking you

The headboard was banging against the wall so hard, it left dents in the wall

There was cum overflowing out of you, but Jungkook still didn’t stop

He pounded you until your body gave up on you

You couldn’t fight anymore

You weren’t talking, crying or moving

All you could do was whimper softly when it really hurt

Jungkook noticed you were on the verge of passing out, so he quickened up his pace and came into you before collapsing on top of you

“You would’ve been in so much more pain if I didn’t save you from those guys. So what do you say to me?”

You weakly open your eyes and look into his

“T- Thank you.” You whisper softly before falling unconscious

Decided to end it here bc I don’t have the brain power to continue writing. Sorry for any mistakes. It’s 2am

[dreamingofaizawa]

Potent

Alpha! Hanta Sero x Fem! Omega! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18 please vacate the premises.

Warnings: A/B/O, smut, knotting, marking, breeding kink (sorta? idk it comes with the A/B/O territory), a hint of pregnancy kink, a bit of blood

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author's Note: Ohhhhkaayyy so this has been sitting in my google doc for AGES. I think I started this in...October of last year? It's been sitting there for months and I've lacked the motivation to finish and post it but then I sent in an anon ask to @reinawritesbnha and, being the absolute queen she is, she became the little push I needed to do it. I DID IT FOR REINA!!

Also, this is some of my earliest writing and I only skimmed and edited a little bit of it so if there's a little bit of weird pacing or a strange cutoff where the writing styles clash it's because I haven't touched this piece in months.

Anywho, enjoy~

*

*

*

It had to happen when you were surrounded by alphas.

Your suppressants flaked out, again, and your scent wafted through the air on the street. Normally It’d be fine for an omega to let their scent float freely around them. But your scent is particularly...potent, even when you weren’t in heat. Not only that, but you weren’t mated yet, your scent glands still bare, and you still didn’t have a pack. To make matters worse, you’re quirkless.

You hadn’t realised what was happening until your path was blocked by an especially large male alpha. You turned around, and there were two more behind you. Fuck. This isn’t good. You took in your surroundings and searched for an exit, but you couldn’t find a way out. There's no way you’d be able to outrun the three very large male alphas.

Probably the worst part is that more alphas are turning their head toward you, taking notice of your lavender honey and rain scent that slowly began turning to a sour swamp. You dared to hope that change would ward off the three cornering you, but they’d already got a whiff of you. Several distressed chirps sounded from your chest, voicing your discomfort, and you glared pointedly at the three alphas as they edged closer to you.

You hate when this happened. Why’d you have to be cursed like this? Your growls only grew, baring your little omega fangs. There’s no way in hell you’d let some stranger scent you, let alone one of these creeps. They wouldn’t take the damn hint and just crept closer to you, calling out to the ‘pretty little omega’ to ‘come have some fun’.

You’re scared now, the involuntary chirps in your chest coming more frequently. None of the other alphas or betas on the street were big enough to face the three, making you a sitting duck and a ragdoll if they wanted you to be. Your claws are small, nowhere near ideal for this situation, but you’d use them if you needed to. With a final low defiant growl you dropped your bag against the wall behind you and readied yourself for a fight.

Suddenly a large body dropped in front of you, his back to you. His scent alone hit you like a freight train, orange zest, mint, tree bark and something earthy. It had your head spinning, nearly sending you into an early heat. He growled, low and powerful, the sound rattling in your chest and making you sink further into the wall behind you. The other three alpha’s scents together were still overpowered by the new alpha before you, and they vanished faster than they appeared.

He turned around and stepped away from you, giving you space to breathe. He kneeled down enough so he was eye level with you, his hands reaching out clearly in an attempt to comfort you, but kept from touching you.

“Are you okay?” The question barely registered, still delirious from his scent, and you’re having a hard time recovering. Large hands grip your shoulders and shake you lightly, your mind beginning to clear with the soothing pheromones he’s releasing.

“Omega.” The command snapped you to attention, your gaze fixated on his own dark irises.

“Are you okay, omega?” You blink, swallow down the lump in your throat, take a deep breath.

“Yeah...I’m okay. Thank you, alpha.” But you’re not quite okay. You need to get home. Fast. The alpha seemed to catch on, probably by your scent that still hadn’t returned to normal. He stands and slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders and wrapping you in his scent. It’s a comforting gesture.

“Let’s get you home.” With a nod you set off, the man walking next to you with a strong, warm hand on the middle of your back.

“What’s your name?” You introduce yourself, and he does the same. His name is Sero Hanta, and now that you’re calm again, you take in just how handsome he is.

Raven hair is pulled back into a small bun, showing off his undercut and strong, sharp jawline. Onyx eyes shine with kindness and playful mischief, and a beaming grin reveals pearly white teeth. He’s incredibly toned, his muscles calmly rippling under the t-shirt that stretched over his chest. You vaguely noticed the strange shape of his elbows, but disregarded it as his quirk. The omega in you is howling, begging for this alpha, his scent invading your senses. But you suppress it quickly, reminding yourself you’d only just met this man.

As you reach your apartment you exchange phone numbers, and he tells you to keep the jacket and use it when you go out to ward off any unwanted attention. You thank him again for helping you earlier, and he waves to you as he walks down the hall and enters the elevator, the doors closing in front of his handsome smiling face.

Despite meeting him only ten minutes earlier your instincts trust the alpha, and you hold the jacket close to your face, breathing in his scent. It’s wonderful, and your inner omega is in love. You find yourself wondering when you’d see him again.

The next few days are riddled with work and calls to your doctor about the strength of your suppressants. You work from home as a secretary for a small company. It’s a miracle you’d found it, too. Nobody wants an omega, let alone a potent one. It’s an alpha’s world, you guess. When this job opening popped up you were ecstatic, so you took it and have been working from home with decent pay for the last five years.

The calls to your doctor were not going as smoothly as your job, though. You leave a message every four hours until she finally calls you back. She was concerned since the suppressants she’d prescribed are the strongest out there, and if your scent was overpowering them they were either defective or your scent glands were overproducing. It wasn’t an immediate threat to your health, it only meant you’d be drawing more attention than you wanted to. Still, it’s annoying and makes life so much harder than it needs to be.

After she prescribed twice the amount, she said she’d look over your tests from the latest visit before she hung up the phone. You groaned once the call ended. You seriously needed a break from your second gender. Taking the prescribed double dose of suppressants, you got ready to go out to the corner cafe to read and drink coffee. Hopefully the new amount will keep steady. You really don’t want to deal with any more aggressive alphas this week. For good measure you pull on Sero’s jacket, allowing his scent to cover you, then grab your keys, phone, wallet and a book and begin the walk.

When you arrive at the cafe you order a hot mocha, curl into the small corner booth and crack open the book. You got lost in the ink and your mind floated along the adventure, putting yourself in the shoes of the main character and leading the mission to take down the corrupt queen who’d framed you for killing the prince of a neighboring kingdom. You were ripped from the fantasy world when a bright, enthusiastic blonde came up and tapped you on the shoulder, making you jump. His smile was as bright as his hair.

“Sorry to scare you cutie, but I couldn’t help but notice that jacket of yours smells an awful lot like my friend Sero!” You smile softly at the blonde.

“Well if we’re talking about the same Sero Hanta, then your nose would be correct. This is his jacket.” His eyes widen as he nods.

“Oh my gosh you must be the omega he keeps talk-” The blonde’s words became muffled by a large hand. A hand that belonged to the very man you were talking about. Sero smiles apologetically down at you as he shoves the blonde back to where you assume they’re sitting.

“Sorry about Kami, he’s… extroverted.” You smile back at him, mostly because you’re happy to see him again.

“It’s no problem at all. He recognized your scent on me.” He looked down and only then realized you’re wearing his jacket, and he beams at you. Then he takes a glance at the booth you’re sitting all alone at, his smile falling just a bit.

“Do you wanna come sit with us?” You take a moment to think about the offer, then agree with a nod. Your omega couldn’t pass up more time with him.

As you approach the booth you notice there are more people with Sero than you anticipated. There were four other people sitting there. Sero introduced all of them from left to right. Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Ashido Mina, and the happy blonde from earlier is Kaminari Denki. You introduce yourself and when Sero slid into the booth, you followed after him.

These five are a tight pack, and you learn they all met in high school. Bakugo’s brash personality made you wary at first, but it didn’t take long to realize he’s just like that with everyone. He makes a bit of a snippy remark, which you easily counter, and he smirks while the rest smile or snicker. It would seem they like you.

You can’t tell what their second genders are, and you mentally kick yourself for even wondering in the first place. Their genders are none of your concern, but you can’t blame yourself when you’re constantly alert because of your own stupid second gender. As it turns out, you don’t need to wait very long to find out.

This time you smell your own scent as it permeates the air around you. You swear under your breath at the stupid suppressants that obviously can’t so their job, and the others snap their gazes to you. You sigh.

“Yeah, that scent is me. My suppressants flaked again. Sorry about that.” They all nodded, seemingly understanding. Sero must have told them about the other day. Of course, it would soon repeat. It didn’t take long for an alpha to take notice of your scent. The man -- why is it always the largest males??? -- strides up to the booth with a cocksure grin and leans down to inhale your scent. You duck away from him, into Sero, and let out an albeit small warning growl that was drowned in Sero and Kirishima’s. He ignored them all the same.

“Hey there little omega, you smell real nice. You wanna come hang with me instead? We can have some fun together with my buddies, what do you say?” The others stayed quiet. They’re going to let you defend yourself before they do anything in case they end up escalating the situation. You turn your head and lift your shoulder, hiding your scent gland.

“I’m not interested, thank you. Please leave me alone.” You hoped to whatever deity watched over you that the man would leave. Before anyone could react the alpha grabbed your wrist in a vice grip, yanking you roughly from your seat. You chirp, your scent turning sour and the entire pack abruptly stands, baring their fangs at the man. It barely registered in your head that Kirishima and Bakugo are alphas, Mina is a beta, and Kaminari is an omega, their fangs giving them away.

The man tightens his grip on your wrist and you cry out, your bones creaking under the pressure. With no other options you did the one thing that would get him to let go, and sank your fangs into his wrist. You jump back into Sero, who wraps an arm around you protectively.

“You bit me, you bitch!” He raises an arm, clearly about to try and hit you, but a large hand grabs his wrist. Surprisingly enough it’s Bakugo, and his growl is laced into his words.

“Leave now, or you lose a hand.” Sero speaks up from above you.

“You might wanna listen, amigo. That’s Dynamight.” The alpha rips his arm from Bakugo’s hold and looks down at you, and you growl at him as he scoffs and walks away, apparently not ready to fight the #2 pro hero over an omega.

You all sit back down and you pull up the sleeve of the jacket to inspect the already forming bruise on your wrist. Your nose wrinkles with a half-angry half-pained snarl. Tenderly, Sero takes your wrist and lightly squeezes the sides of your forearm, against your bones, and your lack of reaction tells him nothing’s broken. Still, he growls at the offending bruise.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You shake your head and put a hand over his.

“It’s not worth it Sero. He’s probably long gone.” You turn to the rest of the pack.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Kirishima is the first to speak.

“Of course! That dude was a jerk. I just hope he doesn’t go around doing that to other omegas.” Bakugo, surprisingly, spoke next.

“Obviously we’d protect you. You’re a potent omega and quirkless, so you attract unwanted attention without even knowing or wanting to. Besides, if you’re gonna be Sero’s omega there’s no way in hell we’d let some extra handle you like that.” The implications make your face burn, and Kirishima smacks the blonde’s arm with a ‘Don’t just say that kind of thing, Katsuki.’

After an hour or two of talking, and shockingly no other aggressive alphas, they all walk you home to your apartment. Sero wanted to check on your wrist again, so you invited them all in, but they all had something else to do, so you were left alone with Sero. The fact that the one alpha you desperately wanted to be around is alone with you in your apartment is both great and terrible. Thankfully, you have self-control and his own suppressants are working perfectly fine.

He inspected the darkening bruise on your wrist, his large hands gripping your arm tenderly and turning it gently as he prods at the skin. It doesn’t hurt too bad, so you assure him you’ll be perfectly fine. Eventually he leaves with a hug and you sigh once the door is closed, relieved that you were able to keep your omega at bay and your hands to yourself.

A couple days later you get a text from him and the two of you text often, asking how each other’s day went, if anything interesting had happened. You didn’t leave your apartment unless you needed to, since your suppressants clearly weren’t working, so you made sure to cut grocery trips short and keep away from any alphas that seemed a bit aggressive. Sero invited you to hang out with the pack at their house, and you obliged.

They lived in a huge house all together. Most of the rooms were sealed so no scents or sounds could go in or out for ruts and heats, and there were several spare rooms that were empty and waiting for more pack members. It was a fun hangout, filled with video games and good conversation, and even better food which Bakugo cooked. Sero had an arm around you whenever he was close, and you definitely didn’t mind. Your suppressants flaked in the middle, again, and Sero insisted he walk you home. With him walking you home there weren’t any alphas trying to get you this time. You ended up going over to hang out with them a lot when you weren’t working, and eventually Sero began to court you.

Obviously, you accepted, and after a few months of dating and scenting, your overactive scent glands seemed to mellow out, Sero’s scent mixing with it. Your suppressants are lasting much longer now, which is a good sign. Now that you’re Sero’s omega, he often helped you with your heats and you’d help him with his ruts, and he was strong-willed enough that he hadn’t marked or knotted you in the middle of things.

About a year and a half into the relationship you realize you really love him. Sure you had arguments, but everything was settled through calmed discussions over coffee or tea, and you came to understand each other well enough that arguments became few and far between.

You’re happy with Sero, so when your heat came around early and he was there to help, you were going to let him know just how much you loved him.

You texted him once you felt it starting. He was there within half an hour, and you pounced on him once the font door closed, smothering him in hot, wet kisses, eager to feel him inside you. He carries you to the bedroom, and you two are quick in shedding all of your clothes. He lays you on your back with a hand on your throat as he growls into your ear, making a hot shudder roll down your spine.

“Are you ready for me omega?” You whine and nod, your slick already dripping down your folds. You want him so bad it hurts.

“Please alpha, I need your cock.” He growls again, satisfied with your answer, and he presses into you, bottoming out with one firm thrust. You chant his name like a mantra as he set a bruising pace, rutting into you recklessly, wet skin slapping on skin the only other sound beside your whimpers and his growls. His teeth nip at your shoulder, sharp fangs testing your skin and claws digging into the fat of your hips. His cock is so deep, hot swollen tip kissing your cervix with every full-bodied thrust and sending you into a euphoric haze. Your own claws are sinking into his back, leaving little trails of red and blood beading down the lines. It drives him wild every time.

“That’s right, little omega. Mark me up, I’m all yours. Fuck you’re so pretty underneath me like this.” His hands grip behind your knees and press them into your chest, folding you nearly in half as he plows into you further. The angle knocks the breath from your lungs and your eyes roll back. You can feel his knot beginning to swell, feel how his thrusts are getting more controlled and his grip on your thighs tighten from the sheer concentration it’s taking for him not to breed you. You have other plans. Between wheezed breaths you squeak out.

“H-hantaaa~” He slows to a near snail’s pace, grinding his slowly growing cock into your sweet spot, a smirk stretching across his face as you splutter from the sudden change. He’s enjoying making you squirm.

“What is it, sweetness? Tell your alpha what you need.” You pant, chest heaving as much as the position will allow.

“Want your mark, want your knot~ Wanna be bred Hanta! I want your pups!” He stills completely, claws digging into the fat of your thighs with enough force to have drops of blood falling to the sheets beneath you. You’d never said anything like that in the heat of the moment. He can’t have heard you correctly...right?

“Princesa, do you know what you just said?” The seriousness in his tone has you sobering, but even before you knew exactly what you were saying. You nod frantically, wiggling your hips to get him to move again.

“Yes! I know alpha! Please, give me your knot~” His growl makes your bones shake, and with no warning he drops your legs around his waist and leans down so his face is buried in your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna trust you with this baby girl. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” His fangs sink into your scent gland just as he picks up his brutal pace, and the euphoria makes you cum hard, your whole body locking up and mouth falling open in a silent scream. He plows into you as you regain your breath, and you bite down on his own scent gland as hard as you can, tearing into his skin with every intention of leaving a pretty scar for the world to see.

His knot swells more, and he’s pushing it into you with every ounce of power he can generate with that gorgeous body of his. With one final snap of his hips he locks his body to yours and cums hard, ropes of hot seed filling you to the brim. He collapses on top of you and laps at the wound on your neck and you do the same. After a few minutes he leans back and cups your face in his hand, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Are you alright?” You nod, nuzzling into his palm.

“I’m sorry. I was gonna talk to you about it, but my heat came early.” He kisses your forehead gently, brushing the strands of hair from your face.

“It’s okay, pretty thing. I trust you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You giggle and wrap your arms around him.

“Of course I do. I love you, Hanta.”

“I love you too.” You lay there, tangled in each other’s arms until his knot goes down. You whine at the loss when his cock slips out of you, clawing at him to come back because you’re still in heat. His hand gently wraps around your neck, a low chuckle on his lips.

“Relax, we’re far from done.” His already hard erection rubs up and down your glistening folds, barely stimulating your clit, teasing you until tears prick your eyes and you’re beggin him to fuck you again.

“When I’m done you won’t be able to walk for days. I’m gonna breed you so well, You’re gonna look so pretty all big and round with my pups.” He groans at the image he’d conjured in his head and you squeal as he slams his hips into you.

You’re in for a wonderfully long night.

[aerialflight]

Fic Recs (mostly Naruto cause I read too many good fics in the fandom and now I'm in hell)

[Naruto]

Spirit-Touched by phooykazooi

Once upon a time, the Haruno clan were priests. It was said that they were spirit-touched, and that they walked among the downtrodden and the poor, and did not bow to royalty.

Or, an AU in which Sakura can see spirits.

Part 1 of The Realms Between

(Really, and I mean REALLY fantastic Shikamaru & Sakura friendship! Fantastic, beautiful writing, and such good worldbuilding, god, and the Haruno family is so badass!! Sakura and everything she does makes me want to scream!! Please read!)

Final Evaluation by Do_the_Cool_Whip

Progress evaluations are one-on-one consultation meetings between academy students and their teacher. Their purpose is to inform academy students of their strengths and weaknesses and guide them down their ideal path to becoming a strong shinobi. Upon graduating the academy and passing their jounin-sensei test, new genin return to the academy for one final consultation. (Or: The story of what happens when Umino Iruka uses his final meetings with his students as way to send them off to become the best shinobi they can possibly be.)

(Iruka! Is! The! Best! Teacher! Ever! End of story!!! Great interpretation of all the characters and their capabilities and I am so so excited for the sequel that will undoubtedly come! XD)

Celestial Bodies by Oceanbreeze7

Sasuke looked at the fire, eyes glowing red as the mutated corrupted seal on his throat. "Amaterasu blessed me. I see things. Like you with two normal eyes and the Hokage. And Sakura with a seal on her forehead. And I run Chidori through Naruto's heart. I keep trying to kill him. Over and over. And that knuckleheaded idiot never gives up.”

(Don't you get it? I saw it. The moon will bleed, the nations will die. The world is going to end.)

Part 1 of Celestial Bodies and Anomalies

(I swear, this fic freaking elevated my expectations on Sasuke-centric fics in general holy hell. Also, read the fucking sequel after this cause EVERYTHING GOES NUTS AND THE PLOT GOES OFF AND I'M HERE FOR THIS SHIT. Fucking Uchihas man. Also, you wouldn't think this series is funny, but it is, and it's amazing.)

A step to the left (and right off the cliff) by weavingBlue

Team Seven starts off on a different foot and Sasuke's canonical journey to get stronger goes off the rails a bit. It all works out though. Probably.

(This fic went in a direction I didn't expect and it's GLORIOUS. SO FUNNY, I honestly was dying while I was reading this. Please give this a chance!!)

promises by BombsAreForBabies

It's her first kiss and Naruto's last. She promises him that she will bring Sasuke home. It's his dying wish, after all.

(Naruto bleeds out faster than the kyuubi can heal him.

Sakura learns that being a ninja is more than fancy jutsu and fun.

Sasuke does not know that he just killed his best friend and turned his most loyal comrade into his worst enemy.)

(Listen LISTEN I know this sounds depressing but the relationship developments and slow healing is EVERYTHING and I think it's absolutely worth it to read this. Sakura's characterization is so good and Kakashi makes me want to hug him. A lot.)

Fang Under Fang by Vroomian

"Are we sure he's really an Inuzuka?"

(The answer is no.)

-

Someone reborn as Inuzuka Kiba not only has to deal with bullshit ninja magic, but soulmates being A Thing.

(Really good self-insert fic and its platonic soulmates, not romantic! I am always here for a good Kiba-centric fic and I won't say who the soulmate is. It's unexpected but so, so good! Trust me!)

Haunt The Lonely by Tht0neGal666

(Series where Sakura can see ghosts and the Things she gets up to due to this ability. The fics are short but man, you can already see the shifting differences in Team 7's dynamics, it's great!)

Perception by Ellie_Enchanted

Naruto can sense auras, which throws everything off it's balance. Because really, with someone as open as Naruto running around and peering into the depths of people's souls, something is bound to change. In other words, sometimes all that's needed is a push. Also, Sasuke apparently glows.

(Naruto the empath changing the plot and making it Better and I am loving it!)

Crossfire by DejaVu22

Following the events of Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke never makes it to Orochimaru's hideout. Instead, he is waylaid by a one-eyed man named Tobi, a man possessing a Sharingan, a terrifying dual personality, a penchant for always being late, and a single-minded mission to stop the Akatsuki in their tracks. When Sasuke runs into Naruto again years later, he must ally with his old teammate in order to protect him from the Akatsuki, while keeping him out of the two man war Tobi and Sasuke have started against the dangerous organization.

(I honest to god can't stop cackling when I read this, the Sasuke & Obito dynamic is so freaking chaotic and Sasuke's characterization is the best thing I've ever read. This boi is a mEsS and I'm fucking rooting for him. He cares so much! There's secret identity shenanigans happening on sasuke's end and it's HILARIOUS! This is the duo I never thought I needed but here it is! *cackles insanely*)

-

[Diamond no Ace]

Echo in His Hands by SportRayne (rayningnight)

Ship: Miyuki/Sawamura

What does it mean, when you remember snapshots of your own future?

Is it your future at all, if you change it?

Would you even want to change it?

(Look I am WEAK for BAMF Eijun and time travel fics and Miyuki being a tanuki bastard, okay? Time travel fic where Eijun gets feelings of people he knew before in the future. Really good so far and am so excited over this fic!)

The path we walk by WindsOfTime

Ship: Miyuki/Sawamura

Eijun goggles at the magazine she just shoved into his hands. "W-Wakana!" "I know!" she says, beaming. "That's my soulmate!!" "I know!!" "My soulmate plays baseball!!"

(Became such an instant fave so fast it's unbelievable. I LOVE THESE IDIOTS SO MUCH! Best soulmate fic in this fandom, hands down!)

-

[One Piece]

switching places by fireflywitch

Zoro is 21 and wakes up in a desert they already saved, on a ship that they burned two years ago, and standing next to a man who is supposed to be dead. Except, that can’t be right, can it?

Zoro is 19 and wakes up on a ship that’s too big, next to a robot wearing a swimsuit, and he’s supposed to fight something called a Kaido. Also, he’s missing an eye, and no one’s even a little worried about it?

(or)

Time travel is a shitshow, and Zoro didn't sign up for this.

(FUCKING HILARIOUS ZORO IS THE BEST PERSON TO SEND BACK IN TIME CAUSE HE'D BE TERRIBLE YET FANTASTIC AT IT I CAN'T MAN FIEWNOPFEW)

No Time To Crank The Sun by VIKAN

He’s surrounded by strangers, but they’re all trying to convince him otherwise. Or, Zoro faces a mysterious and relentless challenge that he just can’t wrap his head around.

(This ripped my heart open, I cried reading this my god. Please read this, the pain is so worth it and Zoro and his relationship with his crew is so good here. This reminded me why I love the Straw Hats so much!)

-

[Fairy Tail]

to learn about a lucy (with a look into the future.) by るる凪 - nagi (arurun)

A watching the future fanfic.

It's currently X781, three years before canon. A group of Fairy Tail mages find themselves in a large building, with no known way out.

They sit down, and they watch the future.

(This is so much more fun than I thought it would be and I'm so happy I found this fic. This fic reignited my old love for this fandom and I hope it does for you too!)

-

[Harry Potter]

sunflowers by Marnie27

One day, a young girl sits on the edge of a well. On this day, she falls in. Then the next, she’s not even a ‘she’ anymore. He’s Peter Pettigrew — doomed to die at the hands of his (betrayed) friend’s son.

Peter is selfish, bitter and brash. He’s not some fairy tale hero, he doesn’t care if everyone around him dies, as long as he lives. The marauders are annoying and childish. Survival is his priority, and he can’t afford to face distractions.

This just makes the fact that soulmates are now apparently a thing all the more godawful.

(And then another day years later he falls into an entirely new impossibility, Remus Lupin in tow, right into the third book of Harry Potter. Smack bang on the other Peter Pettigrew’s grave).

It’s confusing and graceless, and entirely something that would happen to him of all people.

(Self-insert fic where a girl reincarnates into Peter Pettigrew! And there are soulmates! And it's angsty and hilarious and Peter is an Asshole (somewhat unintentionally lol). Always a fan of biased pov fics and characters slowly improving themselves and their mental health! Cause dying! Is! Traumatic! *smiley face* Please read!)

-

[Crossovers]

he's a killer queen, sunflower, guillotine by hoye

Fandoms: Fullmetal Alchemist, Harry Potter

He has to be the weirdest Hufflepuff Harry’s ever seen. Scratch that, he’s the weirdest Hufflepuff Hogwarts has ever seen.

(One thing everyone could agree on: NEVER call Edward Elric short.)

(This is peak Edward Elric and all the best things about him and I'm just having a Good Time. Friendships! Logical solutions! Marauder screentime! And so much More! *bright grin* It's a fun place here!)

[noxiatoxia]

CRYINGGNN??? CRYING AUUGHGFHFGH THATS SO GOOD

that last part actually reminds me of this idea i had where kaoru really is trying to push hikaru away 'for his own good' so he starts literally trying to avoid him. being distant and kind of standoffish, but hikaru just keeps thinking its something else entirely bothering him and tries to get closer to him so he can help.

obviously this completely ruins kaoru's plan and he realizes the only way he's gonna get his brother to let go is to start avoiding him altogether. and it sucks because if he felt alone before he certainly feels alone now. but he gets his own room, doesn't really have casual conversation with hikaru, eats lunch alone, takes different routes to class. but they sit next to each other in every class and have host club together. on top of literally living with each other.

so he starts acting cold with the host club like he'd been doing with hikaru, basically slowly moving towards quitting the host club altogether knowing it will be breaking his own heart, because

a) he values hikaru's happiness, future, and freedom above his own happiness and mental health, and

b) because his self worth issues are getting so bad to the point where he starts thinking the host club doesn't really need him, or even want him around at all. not only does he feel this about the other members (before he even started acting standoffish, his depressive state was giving him mood swings/causing him to skip school and club meetings/letting his appearance go, and that kind of aggravated them. even though it was more worry than actual anger, it made kaoru think they'd stopped liking him when he was literally at his worst), but also the guests as well. he starts 'realizing' that they don't really like him at all, they like hikaru and his twin brother, but not Kaoru. even though that's not really true at all.

so because he's getting pushed away, hikaru starts to believe that he really fucked up somehow and he doesn't know how, all he wants is to fix it but kaoru keeps avoiding him. and hikaru straight up asked him 'what did i do? please tell me i swear i didn't mean to do anything' and it makes kaoru so sad but he cant tell him that he's only doing it because he loves him or it would ruin everything ... these DUMBASSES who can't COMMUNICATE their FEELINGS make me SO SAD!!!

honestly i have no idea how this would end. like maybe kaoru does end up quitting and its a huge deal and there's a whole episode where hikaru tells the others about his brother's behavior and his nightmares and all that so they can try and put together why he quit/why he's been acting how he has in order to get him back in the club, and all the club is like. bro. what do you MEAN he cries himself to sleep every night while that princess movie he loves so much blares from his tv so loud you can hear it from the other room and you couldn't tell he was struggling. DUDE

and kaorus reasoning behind 'for hikarus own good' can be interpreted either romantically or platonically, like you said-- 'doesn't want to 'corrupt' his brother' or 'wanting him to be an independent person'. also for the second one maybe kaoru just knows he's getting bad, he can barely take care of himself anymore, and he wants to push hikaru away not only so he can be his own person, but so he wont have to worry about him, or see him in the state he was heading towards.

basically he'd rather shove everyone away so they won't have to deal with him than actually ask for help at all. no i am not projecting (i am projecting)

either way by the end of the 'episode' kaoru would learn about the power of friendship or whatever the fuck and gets back in the host club and everyone supports and loves him. only because i refuse to let this have a sad ending that boy has Been Through Enough.

god this one is so much longer than usual. is it too obvious ive switched to my laptop

ANON ANON ANOOOON PLEASD PLEASE PLEASE THIS IS MAKING ME GO FERAL. INSANE. THIS IS HOW I CHARACTERIZE KAORU SO MUCH LKDMFEKRJFBERJBFREKJ THIS DUDE IS SO DEPRESSION-CODED (/HJ) ITS INSANE.... AND THIS!!!! THIS IS SO FUCKED UP BUT YOU'RE SO RIGHT!!!!

Reminds me a bit of my Kaoru has depression thread I update every now and again...

Kaoru moving into his own room would be a huge deal, and NOT in the good way. Hikaru is SUPER against it for many different reasons (he can't monitor Kaoru's sleep anymore to make sure he's ok + he'll miss his brother!!) but Kaoru is very adamant and tbh it probably ends in a fight and Hikaru getting really mad at Kaoru and yelling at him. Kaoru does move into a new room.

And if Kaoru didn't feel alone before... by god he sure feels it now. It's so hard to sleep without Hikaru's warmth and general presence. The nightmares are more frequent. He keeps having to tell himself it's "for the best" bc it's the only thing keeping him from losing it. That, in the end, this will be good for Hikaru and maybe even for himself, too. He just needs to endure it for the end goal.

But, the issue is the Host Club. Like you said, he still needs to play pretend with his brother in the Host Club. (Even worse if this is a scenario where he IS in love with Hikaru, bc surely fake dating only makes his feelings more apparent to himself and harder to ignore). He gets this idea in his head that people really only like Hikaru, anyways. Hikaru is the outgoing one, Hikaru is the funny one, Hikaru is the important one. Hikaru is Haruhi's friend. Hikaru is Tamaki's friend. Kaoru is just... the twin. He's not Kaoru. He's a nobody. I'm sure it sucks being identical twins, never having your "own" identity, bc eventually, it'll seem like one of you is the "real" one and the other is the fake copycat. And that's how Kaoru feels.

In order to let Hikaru be closer to "his" friends and to cut himself off from the fake dating causing more stress on him, Kaoru quits the host club. It fucking hurts, because he loves everyone there and they're his friends, too, but Hikaru is more important. And he rather them spend more time with Hikaru than him. And anyways, Kaoru is self-sufficient and cunning. Unlike Hikaru, he can handle being alone and by himself. So no worries, right?

You talked about Kaoru realizing he's getting 'bad', and I think this is that point. He's effectively cut himself off from Hikaru and his friends to the best of his ability and is also failing to go to class everyday. He's staying up way too late and having really bad, restless sleeps. He's begun locking his door because he doesn't want Hikaru to check in on him like he always does. Hikaru would counter this by pounding on his door relentlessly for minutes, but the pounding soon became knocking, and eventually just an hourly voice outside his door saying "Kaoru, are you okay? I'm sorry, I don't know what I did. I don't know what's wrong. I miss you."

totally not projecting at my worst points of my depression no sir

The thing is, Kaoru begins to realize how bad this has gotten. He's not eating or sleeping right, he has no real desire to talk to anybody or even watch his favorites movies anymore. He doesn't really want to do anything, actually. He's not even crying anymore, he's not even sad anymore, he's just... well, it doesn't really even feel like he's real anymore. And maybe he never was. Maybe it always was just Hikaru. Wasn't he always just in his brother's shadow?

The one thing that keeps him from completely spiraling or doing anything drastic is the constant messages he gets from people. He doesn't turn his phone off, doesn't text back, but he gets texts all the time from Haruhi, Tamaki, Kyoya, Hani, Mori, and especially Hikaru. Even Renge, who somehow got ahold of his phone number. Some text him more than others, but they all message him periodically, sometimes asking if he's okay (Haruhi), sometimes begging him to come back (Tamaki), sometimes getting angry at his "selfishness" (Kyoya) (the anger born out of fear of course), sometimes trying to send gifs and photos to cheer him up (Hani), sometimes telling him he should seek help (Mori), sometimes reminding him that they love him (Renge)

And often, he gets a text saying how Hikaru misses his little brother so, so much.

Hikaru doesn't want to give up, but he's scared. He's terrified. He doesn't know why Kaoru's suddenly like this, and he's heard horror stories of people taking their own lives in states like this. The thought worries him sick, and he has no clue how to fix it, how to make sure not to fuck up more than he must have already done. The breaking point is Hikaru himself not showing up to club, too overcome with anxiety to leave home in case there's an emergency. When he does finally show up, he's not himself at all, and when Haruhi after club tries to talk to him, he snaps at her. But she's unfazed, tries getting through to him in his anxiety-fueled anger, and eventually, he just breaks down into tears, because he has no clue how else to react. It's really embarrassing, crying in front of the whole Host club, but he can't help it. Kaoru hasn't talked to him in weeks, possibly. He's only coming out every now and again to eat. The school has given up and just started sending his classwork home, expecting him not to show up. And their parents arent doing a fucking thing because they're "too busy" (<- own headcanon) and Hikaru is scared out of his goddamn mind because it's his brother!!!! His baby brother!!!! His little brother is severely depressed, Hikaru is genuinely afraid he may hurt himself, and nobody around him is doing anything to help him!!!! and Hikaru knows that includes himself, because what can he do? He's said everything he can think of at Kaoru's door, slipped notes under it, brought him gifts, brought him treats, sat outside and talked at the door for hours, holding a conversation with himself just because Kaoru won't respond. The only reason he knows he's still alive is because Kaoru does come out for food, and Hikaru does damn well try to talk to him then, but Kaoru never responds.

I think after hearing this, the Host club decides to make an unanimous decision to visit the Hitachiin house. Cue Hani and Mori forcefully, literally breaking the door down which scares the ever-loving hell out of Kaoru. And the way Hikaru runs up to his little brother, latching onto him and crying and telling him how sorry he is for whatever he's done or whatever has happened, that he just wants to make everything better and he would do anything at all to make Kaoru happy again breaks Kaoru's heart.

That's probably the first time in weeks Kaoru's actually spoken back, just mumbling back an "I'm sorry".

And like. YES this is super angsty. But Kaoru is a lonely and most importantly DRAMATIC mother fucker. Of course he would go to these lengths if he thought it was legitimately the best thing for his brother. And I can say from experience when you're depressed you think the worst things are "for the best".

I think the host club prob brought gifts or other things, in efforts to cheer Kaoru up. "You can hold Usa-chan!" Hani tells him. Similarly, Tamaki says, "You can hold my teddy bear". Mori took the time to do extensive research into clinical/severe depression and anxiety and complied a handwritten list of coping methods he's seen to be most helpful. Self-therapy, basically. Kyoya, likewise, offers Kaoru (at a generous discount, of course) trips to their therapy resorts or even their specialized psychiatrists.

Haruhi simply bought him his favorite movies on bluray (which he probably already owns, but she didn't rlly think about that at the time and it's the thought that counts) with a handwritten letter for him that's super mushy written in that very awkward I-don't-know-how-to-say-this way Haruhi is known for (she forbid anyone else from reading it. It's for Kaoru only!!!)

I think the kindness does get Kaoru to ACTUALLY start crying for the first time in a while. After feeling so hollow and emotionless, he's surprised at the sudden surge of emotion inside his chest, and he can't stop sobbing. It's not bad, though. In a way, he prefers it to the utter roboticness he's felt. I think they all hang out after that, insisting they all watch the movies Haruhi bought him (Host club Cinderella movie night!!) and while it of course follow standard Host club antics, I think it would be pretty chill and low-energy. Kaoru probably needs it to be a little slow right now, and he's just happy to finally embrace his friends again - he doesn't realize how much he's missed them...

And of course, Hikaru is basically attached to him the whole time, snuggling and cuddling him and saying words of affection - an uncommon thing, as usually they never have to be said, but this is an unprecedented moment, and Hikaru just wants to make sure Kaoru knows how much he loves him.

...GOD THIS GOT SO LONG. NO REGRETS THOUGH. YOUR IDEAS INSPIRE ME, ANON

[leighsartworks216]

So the angst can be put to rest—“Because of You” by Kelly Clarkson for DA, Dark, Celine, and Dark in terms of Actor.

1st verse (DA to Actor. They reflect on the broken individual that they’ve known the Actor to have become. As a result, they promise to never let their anguish while trapped inside of the mirror warp them as badly as the one who started the chaos in the first place. It hits harder if you consider the DA to have been trapped by the Actor for ‘his stories’ during Date and Heist. They’re no longer able to trust nor ever feel completely safe in the Actor’s false realities, especially after Damien (and Celine)’s betrayal. They’ve learned not to trust anyone, but there’s still a part of them that still feels somewhat sympathetic to Actor, despite it all.)

I will not make the same mistakes that you did

I will not let myself 'cause my heart so much misery

I will not break the way you did

You fell so hard

I've learned the hard way, to never let it get that far

Because of you

I never stray too far from the sidewalk

Because of you

I learned to play on the safe side, so I don't get hurt

Because of you

I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me

Because of you

I am afraid

2nd verse (Dark to Actor. Dark is a walking 3-in-one amalgamation of all anger, grief, sorrow, and darkness brought to the forefront by the Actor’s actions. He must literally fake being a coherent person at every second, every moment—otherwise, his shell will crack and reveal the horrid truth of his being—even on his ‘good days.’ Despite choosing to play the Villain in the Actor’s plays, he still must do his part to the Actor’s liking to a certain degree. Because of Actor, Dark also likely has a hard time trusting anyone. In my mind, I think of Dark referencing the events of “Damien” in how the Actor reeled Damien out of ‘losing his way’ during Celine’s time-loop. (Also, I like to picture for the last lyric of this verse, Dark admitting to his treacherous creation, he was born out of deception. That mirror cracking at the end of WKM.)

I lose my way

And it's not too long before you point it out

I cannot cry

Because I know that's weakness in your eyes

I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh

Every day of my life

My heart can't possibly break

When it wasn't even whole to start with

Third verse + climax of song (Celine to Actor. She was the one who witnessed the Manor carve the Actor into something awful. I think a part of the reason why Celine left. She was becoming overwhelmed by the Actor’s increased narcissism and fracturing mental-health. She didn’t quite know what to do but the Manor was definitely a part of the problem. Nevertheless, the Actor didn’t agree, which drove a divide between the two. That was further widened by Actor’s absenteeism from his career. (One may interpret the ‘too young’ lyrics of how Celine still wanted the same youthful joys before married life, but Actor was headed in a more restrictive, misogynistic direction. What would people think? Both their goals, expectations, and personalities were slowly polarizing—Celine still yearning to be carefree and becoming burdened by Actor’s heavy-load.)

I watched you die (I watched you die)

I heard you cry

Every night in your sleep

I was so young (and you're so young)

You should have known better (I was too young for you.)

Than to lean on me

(Damien to Actor. The lyrics are pretty straightforward. The feels hit if you consider that Damien is explaining the utter loneliness, which he’s forced to confront every single day. Just like the Actor, he’s corrupted, jaded, and alone. Not to mention, broken beyond repair. ‘You never saw me’ could be a reference to the Actor not considering Damien’s initial rejection of playing his villain. It also could be even calling back to the Actor being in such a load desolate state prior to WKM and never bothering to go to Damien for any support, which would’ve been unconditionally given.

You never thought of anyone else

You just saw your pain (you never saw me)

And now I cry

In the middle of the night

For the same damn thing…

Because of you, I don’t know how to let anyone else in…

Because of you, I’m ashamed of my life

Because it’s empty

Because of you…

I’m afraid.

——

Sorry for the long post, I hope you enjoy!

Holy shit bestie this was a ride. You've had this in your head for a while (/lh /pos)

I haven't heard or thought of this song in probably literal years so now I'm gonna have it stuck in my head all day bc I pretty much knew all the words since I was little lmao

I also love this bc it's like

1. Actor gave them all trust issues and traumatized them beyond repair which, like, relatable but

2. I imagine before this they all really did trust him.

The DA and Damien knew Actor (Damien probably knew Actor better, but it's hard to say), and they were faced with his death at the party. They believed it was someone else who killed him. They couldn't imagine for one moment that it was Actor who had planned an elaborate scheme, an entangled web that they were caught in.

Celine, too, at one point, trusted Actor. She even loved him, considering they were most likely married judging by Wilford's old relationship with her and his disdain toward Actor for "stealing" her from him. But she trusted him and probably even watched as the house corrupted him. After all, she didn't get into the deep occult stuff we see her do until she was with Mark, even telling off Damien for holding her back.

All in all, this just makes the whole situation worse when they find out Actor decided to stab them all in the back and fuck everyone over 🙃

[iatethepomegranate]

Just a fic about Caleb buying a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, and coping with that kind of change and newfound stability (and becoming Professor Widogast). Angst and fluff are at war in this fic.

Chapter Summary: Caleb was loved, in so many different ways, by so many people. The Nein were a whirlwind of chaos and dick jokes, but they were his. And Essek... even when Essek did not use the words "I love you", every word he said and every touch he offered was proof enough. In other words, the Mighty Nein crash at Caleb and Beauyasha's place and shower them with affection.

Notes: Chapter title is from Five by Sleeping at Last. Here's some fluff. Caleb is still Caleb, but everyone loves him and wants him to be happy. Hug your sad wizard friend/research partner/it's complicated.

****

Chapter 2: But something gets lost from a safe distance and now I can't put my mind to rest

There was enough furniture in the house to sleep for the night. After an enormous grocery shop that made gratuitous use of Yasha’s muscles, Beau’s superhuman balance, and Caleb’s telekinesis, the three of them collapsed on the couch.

Beau piled her feet onto Caleb’s lap, resting her head on Yasha’s. “Hey, Caleb?”

“Ja?”

“You good now?”

“I think so.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nein.” Caleb had zero interest in talking about how much he had cried on their kitchen table earlier. He wasn’t ready to process it.

“Cool. Good talk.”

Yasha smiled down at Beauregard, fondly but with an edge to it. “Shh.” She put her finger on Beau’s lips. “Let us just… be quiet for a while.”

Caleb tipped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. He drifted close to sleep, but Essek’s voice filled his mind.

“Caleb. How was the house? I am in a safe place. I will visit when you have a safe landing spot. Talk soon, love.”

Caleb couldn’t help burst into a grin. “Hallo, Essek. We bought it. Veth gave me the money. Go to the Grove when ready. I will come get you. Ich liebe dich.”

“Gross,” said Beauregard. “You know I can understand you now, right?”

Caleb pinched her ankle. “I remember.”

“Beau,” sighed Yasha.

“I’m kidding. I’m happy you’ve worked things out with him.” She shifted, digging her heel into his thigh. “Look, I don’t give a fuck about your sex life--”

“Good.”

“--but you know you can tell me shit, right? It was just the two of you for weeks, and now it’s… not. Are you okay with that?”

Caleb sighed; he already missed Essek dearly, but he always knew it would be like this. “Ja. We talked about it a lot. We want to be together as much as we can, but we are practical people, ja? I will bring him around soon, for a few days at least. Rexxentrum is not safe for him.”

“Well, good thing you have your own space. I don’t wanna hear that shit.”

Caleb rolled his eyes at her. “We are more likely to stay up late talking.” Sex with Essek was more of a (great) side benefit than a core element of their relationship A relationship they had never bothered to define. It was what it needed to be in the moment.

“That’s even worse, Caleb.”

“How the fuck is that worse?”

Beauregard shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s fuckin’ romantic as shit.”

“Ja, I am sure that you, the woman who makes out with her girlfriend in front of all our friends, is disgusted by romance.”

Beauregard grumbled incoherently at him.

****

Caleb was soon preoccupied with ferrying the Mighty Nein to the new house. He first collected Veth, Fjord and Jester from Yussa’s tower. Kingsley had wanted to explore Nicodranas for a while, without Fjord and Jester’s supervision. They had tentatively allowed it, not that they could’ve stopped Kingsley even if they had wanted to.

“Omigosh it’s so pretty !” Jester screeched upon seeing the house. “The windows are kinda boring, though. Can I paint them?”

Caleb was not in the habit of refusing Jester anything. “I suppose. Ask Beau and Yasha.”

“Which door is theirs?”

“The right. It should be unlocked.”

Jester tore ahead and disappeared inside. Fjord hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, gazing up at the exterior.

“It’s bigger than I expected,” he said.

“Ja, the previous occupant is a professor at Soltryce Academy. She lives alone, and it was too much space for her.”

“You’re okay with that?” asked Veth.

“Ja, she was very nice. She lives on Astrid’s estate now.”

“Trent’s old place?” asked Fjord.

“Ja.”

He whistled softly. “That must be weird.”

Caleb didn’t want to talk about it. “The professor gave us a good deal. I am meeting her for coffee tomorrow to talk about Evocation.” He looked down at Veth. “Thank you for the money.”

“I just wish I could’ve given you more, Cay.”

“It was plenty, Veth.” Caleb led them inside and picked Veth up so he could give her the hug he had wanted for days.

******

Next, Caleb teleported to the Blooming Grove. The grass had grown back where it had once been burned, and the house had been repaired. The tangled residuum trees had held strong, keeping the corruption of the Savalirwood at bay. It was quiet, save for the distant clattering of dishes coming from the house.

Caduceus appeared in the doorway before Caleb had taken more than a few steps. “Oh, excellent. Essek’s in the garden. Go get him. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Caduceus didn’t specify where in the garden, but Caleb assumed he was giving him the satisfaction of figuring it out for himself. Caleb walked further into the grove, occasionally stopping to cradle a blossom or sniff a particularly sweet scent.

He spotted Essek’s broad-brimmed hat first. On loan from the Clays. Caleb approached quietly, watching Essek hover over the bed of a herb garden, wearing the rose gloves Jester had made him while he carefully pulled weeds with a look of utmost concentration. The kind of look that made Caleb remember how attractive it was to watch him work.

As Caleb drew closer, Essek froze. Looked up. Relaxed as his face broke into a smile.

“I am sorry I startled you,” Caleb said, closing the distance.

Essek floated away from the herbs and opened his arms, accepting Caleb into them. “It’s all right. You know I’m a little… jumpy these days.”

Caleb kissed his neck; Essek was taller than him when he floated, and only when he floated. “Are you sure you want to visit Rexxentrum?”

“No one will expect to find me there. It will be fine for a few days.” He kissed Caleb’s forehead, and then lifted Caleb’s chin to kiss his mouth. “I wanted to see your new house. And you.”

Caleb dropped his head to Essek’s shoulder, breathing him in. This was the only peaceful moment they would have all day. Essek tucked Caleb’s head under his chin and gave him a squeeze.

“Caleb, are you all right?”

Caleb laughed softly, remembering the first time Essek had asked him in the heat of battle. “I don’t know. This is a lot.”

Essek kept squeezing; they had both discovered one rough night in Aeor that Caleb found this kind of careful pressure extremely comforting. “I understand. This is a huge change for you. Are you overwhelmed?”

“Ja, very.”

“I hope having me there will help, for what little time I can give.”

“You are already helping, Essek. Danke.”

Essek kissed the top of his head. He had slowly begun to initiate more physical contact, and their time together alone in Aeor had accelerated the process. It let Caleb pull back a bit and let himself accept Essek’s affection once in a while instead of constantly being the one to initiate. It was good. They were good.

Fuck , Caleb had missed him.

****

After saying his hellos and goodbyes to the Clays, Caleb palmed a small stone Yasha had dug from the garden bed behind the house and teleported himself, Caduceus and a disguised Essek. They landed in Caleb’s currently sparse sitting area, as planned.

“This is my side of the house. We are working on the furniture situation.” Caleb took them on a quick tour of the house, and was pleased to find Essek equally excited by the possibilities of the study as he had been.

They then used the door on the middle floor to cross into the other side and down the stairs into the crowded sitting area. Yasha was sitting on the rug, stitching a thick floral fabric to make curtains while Jester “helped” by painting tiny dicks on it. Beau and Fjord were sitting on the couch, watching with a mix of amusement and concern. Veth had probably been with them, but launched herself at Caleb for a hug as soon as he had appeared.

She had more or less glued herself to him since she had arrived, evidently sensing his lack of equilibrium. He was grateful she was there to ground him. For a long time, she and Frumpkin had been all that held together the tattered shreds of his mental health.

Caduceus slipped into the kitchen, but was the least sneaky man alive when he wasn’t trying to prank his siblings. He had a parcel in his hands, brought from the Grove. Caleb followed him.

Caduceus carefully stripped off the brown paper packaging to reveal a small wooden crate, from which he lifted a tea set complete with a kettle. He filled the kettle with water and set it over the fireplace, directing Caleb to light it. Caduceus pulled out a few small boxes of tea and cooking herbs from the Grove, arranging them in cabinets.

“I’ll bring another set next time I visit,” Caduceus promised. “Until then, you are required to spend time with the ladies. No locking yourself in the study and forgetting to eat.”

Essek chuckled from the doorway, knowing full-well Caleb would do exactly that. Repeatedly.

“We’ll go shopping together tomorrow,” Caduceus continued. “There are some things you three need for a good, complete kitchen and I don’t trust you to remember any of them, even with your memory.”

“Thank you, Caduceus.” Caleb was getting emotional again. “I, uh, am having coffee with an Evocation professor tomorrow morning, but we can go after that.”

Caduceus smiled at him. Soft, knowing. “I look forward to it.”

****

The Nein had apparently agreed without Caleb’s knowledge that they would stay on Beau and Yasha’s side for the night to give Caleb and Essek some privacy.

Caleb had ultimately decided to use the larger bedroom (the rest of the Nein may have insisted he treat himself). He was glad for it now that he had Essek in his bed. They were too tired for sex, and not really in the mood, but cuddling is a lot more comfortable when you’re not afraid of falling out of bed.

Essek had arranged things so he was lying on his back with Caleb curled around him. Caleb rested his head on Essek’s chest, listening to the gentle drumming of his heart, while Essek drew lazy patterns on his back with a finger. Spell symbols, mainly. Some Caleb recognised, and some he didn’t.

“This is a good location,” Essek said quietly. “Beauregard showed me a map of the city. It is central, but not too close to anything that would upset you more than the city in general already does.”

“Rexxentrum doesn’t upset me,” Caleb mumbled, halfway to sleep already. He tended to sleep better with trusted company these days.

“Beauregard told me what you said the first time you stepped foot here in years,” Essek said softly.

I don’t know if I can do this. “That was some time ago. It’s… easier now.”

“That does not mean it is easy.”

Caleb sighed deeply, closing his eyes. “Okay. It’s not. But that’s not… the last time I had a house was the Xhorhouse, and we all knew that was never permanent. The only home I’ve ever had that was supposed to be long-term… I burned it. The shitty hospital room they kept me in for eleven year was a roof over my head, one I barely remember, and that was… not a home. I was homeless for a long time. I have slept in the woods, in the streets, under bridges, where I could find even the tiniest bit of shelter. Now I own a house .”

“Caleb, I told you in the Grove this is a huge change for you.” Essek’s voice was soft but firm, as it often was when he thought Caleb was being needlessly stubborn or foolish. “You have been through so much , and now you are doing normal things like buying a house and putting down roots. And you have many painful memories here. I believe you will be okay, but you do not have to be. Not before you’re ready.”

Caleb felt foolish for letting this get to him so much. The last few days had been full of nothing but good things. But he was exhausted nonetheless, and eternally a hair’s breadth away from tears. Even in his worst moments, he had never been fragile in this way,  like he was a bucket of water with a hole in it that would leak at the slightest provocation.

Essek pressed his palm down between Caleb’s shoulder blades, forcing him to exhale. “Caleb. Be gentle with yourself. Give yourself time.”

Caleb chucked a little, despite his mod. “That is your specialty.”

“And I have taught you well.”

“The best teacher I ever had,” Caleb said quietly.

“You deserved better. Let yourself have better now, in your own time.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know. Stop pushing it. You know better than anyone it doesn’t work that way.” Essek’s hand slid into Caleb’s hair, cradling the base of his skull. “You of all people deserve patience and kindness, most of all from yourself. I will remind you of this.”

“Thank you.” Caleb pushed himself up on his elbows, finding Essek’s features in the dark. “You know, this is probably the safest I have been in close to twenty years.”

Essek reached up, tucking a strand of Caleb’s hand behind his ear. “Good. You deserve it. Even if I never have a moment’s peace for the rest of my life, all I want is for you to have all the safety and kindness you could ever need.”

“I would give it up in a heartbeat if I could help you.”

“I would never ask that of you,” Essek said warmly, but with a firm edge. “There are a great many things we have already given up. That one is not an option. Of all the people I have known in my 120 years, you deserve a lifetime of peace the most. Even if you will get bored eventually.”

Caleb slid a hand over Essek’s cheek, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb. “Remember when we thought we would never be the kind of people who would make big declarations of love at each other?” Because even if Essek wasn’t explicitly saying I love you , the words he did say were dripping with diamonds of unadulterated affection.

Essek huffed a soft laugh. “Most things between us do not need to be said. This does.”

“Thank you, Essek. I love you too.” Caleb rested his head over Essek’s heart once again, and let the gentle rhythm lull him to sleep.

[khaleesiofalicante]

hey Dani

I’m doing a degree in social work- criminology and public health. and I have done a couple of internships in the development sector.

I know that you’re an activist-

I wanted to ask how do you deal with all of it. It just gets so hard sometimes. all the pain, the suffering, the trauma. how do you see all of that and then go back home and not lose your self.

I’ve always been an incredibly sensitive person and I feel so much all the time. every news, every painful incident, everything absolutely wrecks me. and it’s so hard to make other ppl understand what I’m feeling all the time. I love my family but sometimes they make me so crazy because they don’t see it. they think I’m v radical and revolutionary or a krantikari or something. and I’m just like- PPL ARE DYING EVERY SINGLE DAY! HOW DO U NOT SEE IT!??? HOW DO YOU NOT CARE?? HOW DOES THIS NOT DESTROY YOU.

and sometimes I’m so goddamn close to leaving it all and getting a corporate job ans earning them big bucks. It would’ve been so easy if I was a trust fund baby and didn’t have a fckn conscience.

sorry but my point it- how do u deal with it? the pain, the ignorance of masses and the fact that you could spend every single minute of your whole life trying to help others and it still won’t b enough. There will still be a billion people that will suffer, that you can’t help or reach.

Hello, love.

That's a very difficult question, but I'll try my best to answer it.

I think somewhere along the way I learned that you can't help everyone. You can only only help people you can and you can only help them in ways that are accessible to you.

That's a reality you need to come to terms with - it's not a bad one. Not really.

I know that it feels so overwhelming to think that what we do doesn't matter - not in the big picture. It won't make a difference in the future and that it won't fix how people think or treat each other.

So, you need to focus on the present. What you do, it helping someone right now. It's helping you. And I know the math of a couple of people against the rest of the world doesn't seem like a big deal, but I promise it is a big deal to them.

The people you help and the people whose lives get better, they will remember you because you made a difference - to them. So, instead of worrying about the people you can't help and the lives you can't save, always keep your mind in what you can do. It's very important to be realistic and self-aware of your capacity when you are an activist, otherwise you feel like you are fighting in a losing battle.

The work I do might not eradicate gender based violence, but it does help the girls I talk to every day and give them that courage and resources they need to keep moving forward.

I think someone once said, change happens one person at a time. I think it's important to remember that one person doesn't have to be someone else. It can just be you. If this job, if this experience, made you a different person (as it made me) I think that counts.

You see, we don't become activists or change makers to make the world better. The world will always be the same. There will always be war and violence and corruption.

What we do is give people strength. We give them access to information, to resources and support.

So, if you are capable of doing that, then keep doing it. Fuck the world. It's not going to listen to you or me.

Focus on the people. People you can reach. People you can help. People you can access.

Focus on people around you.

And believe that there are those like you scattered around the world trying to do better and trying to help around them.

It can incredible frustrating to work in the development sector. You slowly realise that the system is rigged and the organisations are often self serving and tokenistic. In those situations, remember that this is your job.

This is not a hobby. You are not doing this out of the kindness of your heart. This is your job. This is what you chose to do with your day. This is who you decided to be.

Out of all the jobs in the world, this was your choice.

There must been a good fucking reason for that, no?

Well, whatever that reason is, remember it. Hold on to it. Believe in it.

When things get too tough, it is extremely important to prioritise your mental health and self-care. I'm sharing a few resources for you:

Advocacy Work: Introduction to Self Care

Advocacy Work: Developing Your Self-Care Plan

How to Weave Self Care into Your Work Day

Self Care and Prevention of Burn Out among Activists

[ibijau]

You’re a marked man, brother, part 5 (end) / also on AO3

With everything over, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue move forward

After returning to the Heavenly Court, Lan Xichen, Lan Wangji, and Nie Mingjue had to report to the Jade Emperor what they had discovered about Jin Guangyao. This, in turn, created a great deal of chaos to be dealt with, and a number of heavenly officials were demoted as a result of this reveal. No matter how clever Jin Guangyao had been, no matter how powerful the fate changing spell and the curse laid on Nie Huaisang, it would have been impossible for Jin Guangyao to remain in place for this long without anyone noticing. In the days that followed his death, a number of his former friends, his subordinates, and at least one higher ranking civil god were revealed to have at least suspected he didn’t belong in the Heavenly Court, and to have profited from his position to scheme and get away with corruption.

There was a trial. 

Aside from those former associates forced to confess their crimes, Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen were also called to explain what they had discovered, and the circumstances of those discoveries. To recount these events in front of their peers, to explain how they had both been tricked into betraying someone they’d loved as dearly as Nie Huaisang, was a true torture.

When it was over, when the emperor had given his judgement and they were free at last, Nie Mingjue took Lan Xichen to his palace. Truly, Lan Xichen had barely stepped inside his own home the whole time. He couldn’t bear to be there and see marks of Jin Guangyao’s presence, constant reminders of how he had been so thoroughly fooled. It wasn’t that they hadn’t all three made memories in Nie Mingjue’s palace as well, but Lan Xichen felt the sting of betrayal a little less strongly there.

Still, it was the first time the two of them were alone since everything unfolded, and for the first time in their long acquaintance Lan Xichen felt uncomfortable as they sat together, Nie Mingjue pouring wine for both of them. Lan Xichen didn’t normally drink, but on that day he decided an exception might be needed.

“So,” Nie Mingjue said when he sat as well, glaring at his cup of wine. “You and Huaisang.”

Shivering slightly, Lan Xichen put down his own cup of alcohol. Perhaps drinking would be unwise after all. He'd known they couldn't avoid that conversation forever, so why not get it over now, when they'd already exposed so much of themselves? 

“Me and Huaisang,” he confirmed in a whisper, nodding slowly.

“How long…”

“It happened after you ascended,” Lan Xichen explained, only to wince as he realised this might not sound good. “There was something before as well, but we became lovers after you ascended. It would have happened even if you hadn’t left, I think. That just… precipitated things.”

Lan Xichen remembered Nie Huaisang so cheerful in public, so happy for his brother and involved in those early efforts to get him followers, who once broke into tears in his arms when they were alone because he just missed Nie Mingjue so much. Lan Xichen had offered him all the comfort he could give, and Nie Huaisang had seized his chance to change things between them… not that Lan Xichen had put up much resistance anyway. 

“I had offered to take him to the Middle court,” Nie Mingjue said in a low, threatening voice. “The instant I ascended, I came back for him, and he refused. Was it because…”

Lan Xichen quickly shook his head. "No!" he exclaimed, and instantly Nie Mingjue relaxed. “I wouldn't have asked him to stay for my sake. I offered as well,” he said, his chest constricting at the memory. He’d first seen his own brother of course, but his second trip back to the mortal world had been for his lover. “He also refused. He said he wanted to take care of your father, especially since things had started going bad.”

That moment haunted Lan Xichen, ever since their encounter with the Magpie King. It had been their last time together, and he could see himself, in his newly ascended glory, lying in bed with Nie Huaisang’s head on his shoulder, warm and comfortable and nearly happy, save for Nie Huaisang rejecting his offer. He hadn’t known then how bad things had become for his lover, hadn’t known about the rumours, about the true state of old master Nie’s mental health. He just knew that Nie Huaisang had laughed and said he wasn’t ready yet to give up on mortal life, that he needed to be a dutiful son, that he’d miss his mother too much, and his little pet birds as well.

“I should have insisted,” Lan Xichen sighed, staring at the cup of wine he dared not drink. “If I had insisted, perhaps I could have saved him and he wouldn’t have become…”

He trailed off, thinking of the Magpie King’s disgust over their accidental betrayal, of him demanding their deaths, rejecting the idea of reconciliation. To think his A-Sang, mischievous but kind heart, could have become such a person…

“I should have insisted as well,” Nie Mingjue said. “But that kid was stubborn as a mule, and I’ve always spoiled him.”

He served himself more wine, which he drank too quickly.

"He was begging when I killed him, you know," Nie Mingjue whispered, sounding haunted. "At the time I couldn't even hear what he was saying, couldn't recognise who he was, just a stranger who'd come into my house and killed my family. But now I realise, now I can remember what I didn't hear back then, and he was begging me for mercy.” He drank some more. “Thought I was angry at him for killing father, for not saving everyone. He thought I hated him, and then I murdered him.”

Lan Xichen shivered. He hadn’t been there that day, but he remembered the memory the Magpie King had shown them. He wished he hadn't been made to see that. Nie Huaisang, desperate and broken… that wasn't how Lan Xichen would have preferred to remember him. 

“I can’t touch Baxia anymore,” Nie Mingjue confessed. “I’m so out of balance, I think she’d turn on me if I so much as looked at her.”

Unsure what to answer, Lan Xichen said nothing. He thought that Baxia, having once beheaded Nie Huaisang without hesitation, would have no right to judge Nie Mingjue now… but that wasn’t how sabre worked. At that time, Nie Mingjue had been absolutely convinced to be in the right, and that was all that mattered to Baxia. Now he was full of doubt, and the sabre would have hated to be yielded with uncertainty.s

Lan Xichen sighed, and drank his cup of wine after all.

He had little dignity left to preserve anyway.

-

Once things had settled in the Heavenly Court, and while his palace was being cleansed from the more obvious traces of Jin Guangyao’s prolonged stay, Lan Xichen suggested that Nie Mingjue and him take a break to visit the mortal world. 

Or rather, to visit a certain undead part of it. Nie Mingjue initially showed some reluctance at the idea of going among ghosts and demons when he still couldn’t touch his sabre, but eventually agreed to go to the Burial Mounds to meet with Wei Wuxian.

They were well received there, even more so than Lan Xichen on his first visit. They were offered tea, and welcomed into the Demon Slaughtering Cave which appeared to have been hastily cleaned up for them. It wasn’t as comfortable a place as their palaces in the Heavenly Court, there were papers everywhere, broken trinkets and half abandoned experimentation hidden under whatever old robes had been around, but Lan Xichen found it less distasteful than he would have expected only some weeks earlier. There was a certain homeliness to this mess of a place, or perhaps it was just because Lan Wangji looked so happy there with his husband.

The tea was served on an uneven table, in mismatched cups, and the four of them sat together to share pretty little cakes that Lan Xichen had brought, his brother's favourites. 

“I’m not sure I’ll have the answers you seek,” Wei Wuxian warned them before they could even say anything. “We’re not… I’m not on bad terms with the Magpie King, but I don’t know if I’m on good ones either. And he’s just never been the sort to talk about himself. For most of our acquaintance I wasn’t even sure who he was. Doesn’t help he changed faces every so often.”

Lan Xichen nodded, throwing a glance at an ashen looking Nie Mingjue. He hadn't wanted to come here, and looked as if he thought it had been the wrong decision. 

“We understand this,” Lan Xichen told his brother-in-law. “It’s just that… you and Wangji are the only people who can tell us anything at all.”

“I’ll try my best,” Wei Wuxian promised. “And I can speculate a bit about some things, too. So… where do you want me to start?”

“How did you meet him?” Nie Mingjue asked.

Wei Wuxian grimaced and fell silent for a moment. Lan Wangji took his hand and squeezed it gently in encouragement, prompting his husband to smile weakly at him before returning his attention to the other two.

“You probably won’t like that,” he said in a more serious tone than Lan Xichen had expected from him. “But I first met him when he tried to convince me to betray king Jiang Wanyin. We were allied to the Jin, the king’s sister married to their prince, and the Magpie King thought I could help him ruin both kingdoms at once. I had no idea back then why he was so determined to throw the Jin dynasty into chaos. But anyway, I refused, insulted him copiously for ever thinking I’d turn on my shidi, and then I ran to try and warn the Jin that there was trouble brewing.”

He paused and grimaced again, leaning against Lan Wangji who wrapped one arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. 

“Didn’t go so well,” he muttered. “Didn’t go well at all. I died, a bunch of Jin died, the Jiang dynasty ended, all that. I stuck around though. Didn’t much like the Jin, but their little prince was my late shijie’s son, and I figured I should protect him in her memory. So of course, when I met the Magpie King again and he wanted to get rid of that kid, we had a bit of a fight… he sucks at combat, but the way,” Wei Wuxian claimed, looking at Nie Mingjue. “I wouldn’t have expected the connection to you.”

“He never cared for that,” Nie Mingjue confirmed, just a touch of his old exasperation piercing through. “So you fought him and won?”

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “Fought him and lost, actually. I was just a small ghost, and he was a Devastation, even if he wasn’t too great at it. He tried again to make me turn against the Jin, but I refused again. I think I must have said something about family coming first, and that might have impressed him. From what I’ve heard since, he’s got a soft spot for that.”

Nie Mingjue paled at what he had to take as an attack, but Wei Wuxian quickly reassured him.

“I don’t think he’s nearly as mad at you as he looked that time,” he said. “He really does have a soft spot for those who protect their families, and he’ll be merciless to those who betray them.”

“Like we did,” Nie Mingjue said.

Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue in annoyance and shoved a cake in his mouth. 

“If he were really mad, Sangcan wouldn’t have been like that,” he claimed, making himself more comfortable in Lan Wangji’s embrace. “And that’s the true heart of him, I think. The Magpie King is the persona he uses to be scary and impressive, but I’ve seen him as Sangcan far more often, and he’s not so bad like that.”

"I thought Sangcan was just a clone he'd created," Lan Xichen said. 

"And one of many no doubts, but his favourite," Wei Wuxian claimed. "It's the form I've most often met him as, over the years, and the one with the most personality. He only brings out the Magpie King if it's necessary, and he brings out Sangcan when he wants to be recognised by those he knows. Even gave him part of his name, eh?"

"I used to call him Sangcan when he was a child," Nie Mingjue confessed. "He hated it, so I'd stopped doing it by the time Jin Guangyao joined our household."

Lan Xichen's breath stuck in his throat. He remembered something about that. Nie Huaisang had told him, once, and he'd been so annoyed about that old nickname. Lan Xichen had tried to comfort him with poetry, Nie Huaisang had blushed and… and he'd wanted to kiss Nie Huaisang so badly even though that wouldn't happen for another few years.

"So Lianfang-Zun wouldn't have known to seal away that name," Wei Wuxian mused. “And so Sangcan was still able to use it. I guess right from the start, he must have been looking for ways to get around that curse and make someone guess who he was. Lan Zhan, didn’t he even approach you directly when you first met?”

Lan Wangji nodded, and glanced at his brother, looking rather sorry.

“He asked if I knew him. He was disappointed when I didn’t, and again when I introduced myself.”

Something icy spread through Lan Xichen’s heart. 

His brother and him looked similar, enough so to have been mistaken for twins on occasions. Nie Huaisang could easily have spotted Lan Wangji during one of his missions in the mortal world and been given false hope for a moment, only to realise that he’d made a mistake. Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji had never met as mortals, but Lan Xichen had spoken a lot about his brother to the boy he loved.

He wondered what it must have felt like for Nie Huaisang, seeing a man who looked so much like his lost lover fall in love with someone else. Lan Xichen’s marriage wasn’t much talked about among mortals where tolerance for these things came and went like waves on a beach, but among gods and ghosts it was a well known fact, one that Nie Huaisang couldn’t have ignored. To know this, to see something similar happen with Lan Wangji… 

He sipped on his tea to give himself a moment and get his emotion under control. 

“Does this all mean, then, that Sangcan is the real him?” Lan Xichen asked, more hopeful than he ought to have been.

But Sangcan had been… nice. A little awkward, a little clumsy, a little silly, but nice. Sangcan was a coward but he hadn’t hesitated to follow Lan Xichen into the Unclean Realm, and he had jumped in front of him when Jin Guangyao would have stabbed him. If Sangcan was the real Nie Huaisang...

“I think Sangcan is just one part of him,” Wei Wuxian corrected, “and the Magpie King is another part of him, and maybe there’s other personas I just haven’t had a chance to meet. If you put all of them together, that’s probably the real Nie Huaisang.”

Lan Xichen couldn’t help slumping down a little.

“The anger is real,” Lan Wangji said. “The kindness is real too. When Jin Guangyao would have stabbed you, Nie Huaisang protected you both times, in both his shapes.”

Lan Xichen nodded, unconvinced, but Nie Mingjue scoffed.

“Jin Guangyao attacked because Huaisang pushed him to it. I’m not sure he gets points for changing his mind about seeing us dead.”

“He showed you who Jin Guangyao was,” Lan Wangji countered with surprising vehemence. “Without this proof of character, you might have missed him.”

As unpleasant as it was, Lan Xichen couldn’t deny it. Until Jin Guangyao’s first attempt to stab him, he had wanted to believe that his late husband had truly just made an honest mistake which got out of hand. He might even have been foolish enough to want to give him another chance if he hadn't died, especially after Nie Huaisang made it clear he had no wish for reconciliation.

They had spent centuries together. Lan Xichen had thought they were in love. He’d told himself they were in love. He’d done his best to respect his husband’s boundaries, to never ask for more intimacy than Jin Guangyao was willing to give, to content himself with the companionship they shared even when he’d felt at times as if they were friends rather than husbands. Lan Xichen had done his best to be good, but he still understood why the other man would have jumped at the chance of getting rid of him, after being forced to pretend for so long.

“Nie Huaisang’s method was wrong,” Lan Wangji said. “The goal was commendable.”

“Wangji, it sounds like you actually like him,” Nie Mingjue remarked, sounding almost envious. Lan Wangji and him were on somewhat cordial terms, but they'd never managed to become particularly close, even though Nie Mingjue would have liked to. 

“He helped me before,” Lan Wangji soberly replied, looking at Wei Wuxian, refusing to elaborate.

“Yeah, he’s a sentimental one, when he’s not playing up the Magie King,” Wei Wuxian agreed, nuzzling shamelessly against his husband. “He even came to our wedding, as Sangcan. He’s a sap, really.

“He was different that time,” Lan Wangji pointed out. “His manners were serious.He seemed more sad. He must not like weddings, but he came for us. He came as his entire self.”

This caused a new pang of pain to Lan Xichen. He’d been so shocked at first to learn that his brother had gone and married a ghost king, and then everything else had happened, the Magpie King, the trial in the Heavenly Court, but now that he could think about it, he realised he had missed his brother’s wedding. 

Not just missed it: he hadn’t been invited to it, Lan Wangji apparently believing that Lan Xichen would be uncomfortable with such an odd union. And he had been at first, but he’d come around quickly. He would have come around then too, if only Lan Wangji had told him.

Instead, in those past centuries, Lan Wangji had never once mentioned Wei Wuxian, or else only in such a roundabout way that Lan Xichen had never realised his brother had fallen for someone.

“It must have been a pleasant wedding,” Lan Xichen said, careful to keep his voice even.

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing. “Not really? I was under shock after actually surviving the trials of Tonglu Mountain, and Lan Zhan got all sappy over seeing me again, so we decided to make it a thing before anyone could say anything. It was just the two of us and the Wen siblings, but of course the Magpie King always knows everything and he crashed our wedding as Sangcan. He did bring some wine and good food though, so I guess it’s fine.”

“Nie Huaisang told me where to find Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, which made his husband gasp.

“You never said! That explains how you found me so quickly then. Lan Zhan, shame on you for keeping secrets from your lawful husband and consorting with my enemies! Or my friends? Honestly, I don’t really know what Sangcan and I are, ahah.”

After this Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen lingered a little longer in the Burial Mounds, but not too long either. There was something about Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian's joy that was painful to witness, when the two of them were only starting to process the loss they had suffered. They were both invited to visit again whenever they pleased. Lan Xichen intended to take that offer, and knew Nie Mingjue probably wouldn't.

Whatever his feelings toward ghost kings, Nie Mingjue still asked Wei Wuxian to tell Nie Huaisang that his brother missed him, should he meet him again. Wei Wuxian promised to do his best.

"But you know,” he said, “with Jin Guangyao dead, the fate exchange spell must have lifted, and his luck probably returned. So he'll meet you for sure if that's what he wants, and then you can tell him yourself." 

It was meant as a comfort, surely. 

All Lan Xichen heard was that they would never see Nie Huaisang again if he didn't want to be found. 

-

Weeks passed, turning into months, into years. Lan Xichen built a new normalcy into his life. He missed Jin Guangyao, at first, if only out of habit. For centuries, they had rarely been apart for more than a few days at a time after all. But as time passed, it became easier to be on his own. 

He kept himself busy answering as many prayers as he could, only avoiding San-Zun temples. Those were quickly falling in disrepair anyway. Even without formal announcement, mortals could always tell when a god had fallen, and they were usually quick to turn their prayers elsewhere.

When he wasn’t working, Lan Xichen often spent time with Nie Mingjue. It had been awkward at first, the spectres of Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang lingering between them, pulling them apart. But having lost so much, neither of them was willing to lose also their last friend, and they managed to find a new balance. Lan Xichen also made sure to frequently visit his brother in the Burial Mounds, and to give him some mission or other to justify his prolonged stay in the mortal world. Everyone knew why Lan Wangji was absent from the Heavenly Court, but Lan Xichen preferred to keep up appearances.

Then, when he could, Lan Xichen wandered alone in the mortal world.

It was something he already used to do before, sometimes dragging Jin Guangyao with him as he looked for something he couldn’t quite name. The only real difference now was that he no longer had to pretend he wasn’t looking for the boy he had loved in his youth.

Lan Xichen knew that Nie Mingjue was doing the same, had always done the same. He knew also that recently they’d both caught glimpses of a silhouette here and there, of a face, that always disappeared too fast into crowds. On good days, Lan Xichen thought that Nie Huaisang was waiting for the right moment to approach them. On bad days, he suspected the Magpie King was just keeping an eye on them, waiting to strike perhaps, his revenge not over yet.

No matter which it was, Lan Xichen continued looking for him, knowing he would be glad to see him again, however changed Nie Huaisang might be.

-

There had been enough prayers coming from that city, and all of them urgent enough, that Lan Xichen had come in person to check the ghost terrorising that area. 

The ghost in question, which seemed to be of Wrath level, had been abducting newborns for years at that point, but recently started doing so at such a speed that the whole city lived in terror. Cultivators of all levels had tried to solve the problem, only to end up dead. A small local martial god had also attempted to check the matter, but he had barely escaped with his life and had come to ask Lan Xichen for his help. 

Lan Xichen, who had only stayed out of this because it would have seemed rude to take action on that other god's territory, agreed to lend a hand. 

The city in question wasn't very big, and it wasn't very rich either. Since the ghost's attacks had become more frequent, every new or expecting mother who could had left the city to spend time with relatives, and some older children had been sent away as well, in case the ghost decided to broaden its tastes. Walking the streets, Lan Xichen noticed an air of sadness and despair all around, which only further motivated him to solve the issue. 

Yet just as he was starting to investigate the matter, a rumour spread through the city. The ghost had already been eliminated, and the latest child it had stolen had been found alive. Nobody had borne witness to that heroic act, but the child and the remains of the ghost had been found before the city's Zewu-jun temple, and many prayers had been done to that god, people said, so it wasn't hard to guess what had happened. 

Lan Xichen, who knew very well that he hadn't done anything yet, was stunned to hear this. 

He finushed his investigation while the city exploded in celebration. A quick check confirmed that the slain ghost appeared to have been powerful enough to have terrorized the city, and it bore marks of having used the energies of very young children to sustain itself. The danger had passed, but Lan Xichen couldn't figure out how. 

A little suspicious of this situation, he decided to linger a while in that city. Taking on a mortal shape, he wandered among the celebrations, enjoying food here and there while staying on the lookout for whoever had brought peace back to these people. 

Because he was so attentive, he spotted a man sitting at a table in front of an inn with a bowl of soup to eat, and froze on the spot. Lan Xichen hesitated, just a moment. But the coincidence was really too great to ignore, so he walked to that table and sat on a free chair. 

"It was you, wasn't it?" He asked, startling the middle aged man across from him. "The Wrath, you took care of it?" 

Sangcan dropped his spoon and stared at Lan Xichen with wide, fearful eyes.

"Zewu-jun!" Sangcan explained, before pressing a hand to his mouth, eyes darting around. "So you came here for this? Ah, my lord, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. There was no intention to steal your kill, my lord! But, well… that Wrath owed the Magpie King a debt, and it was trying to get out of repaying it, right ? So of course…" 

He gestured pathetically toward the celebrations. Sangcan really just looked like a pitiful man, terrified in front of someone more powerful than him, just as he had back then. It made Lan Xichen doubt, but still he had to ask. 

"Are you just Sangcan today, or are you fully yourself?" 

Sangcan frowned at the question, then glanced around. Seeing that nobody was paying them any mind, he sat straighter and passed his hand in front of his face. His features changed, though his clothes stayed the same simple ones. It was the same face he'd worn as the Magpie King that time in the Unclean Realm, though his expression retained a softness that was more like Sangcan's. 

"I guess Wei Wuxian babbled too much, as usual," Nie Huaisang sighed, nearly pouting. "So, what does Zewu-jun want from the Magpie King? Apologies, perhaps?" he asked, his tone making it clear those were unlikely to be offered. 

Lan Xichen motioned a waiter for a pot of tea before turning his attention back to the other man. 

"I take it you haven't seen Wei Wuxian since that time?" 

"No. I'm waiting for the honeymoon to be over," Nie Huaisang said, definitely pouting this time. "Wangji and him are just unbearable, aren't they? It makes me regret getting involved, the world doesn't need such disgusting displays of affection." 

"They can be a bit much," Lan Xichen admitted with a chuckle. "But I understand they've waited a long time for this." 

"You can say that again," Nie Huaisang muttered, producing a fan to hide behind. "Come now. You aren't here to talk about your brother's love life. Whatever you have to say, say it already." 

The waiter returned, serving tea for both of them, giving Lan Xichen a chance to gather his thoughts. He hadn't really considered what to say when approaching Nie Huaisang. Having spotted him, he had just found it impossible to stay away. 

He took a sip of tea. It was nothing like the exquisite brews he was served in the Heavenly Court, but there was something refreshing and pleasant in how plain it was. Simple wasn't a bad quality, Lan Xichen figured. 

"I missed you," he said, quite simply. 

Nie Huaisang snickered, eyeing his own cup of tea with suspicion. 

"Did you now? After I made your husband try to kill you, you somehow missed me?"

His voice wasn't as gentle as in Lan Xichen memories. Right then, it carried a viciousness that the A-Sang of old would have never shown. It had disturbed Lan Xichen when he'd first met the Magpie King in the Unclean Realm, but it no longer did. It was only to be expected that they had both changed, after such a long time, and Nie Huaisang certainly had a right to some bitterness. 

"I missed you before," Lan Xichen explained, earning an unimpressed look from the other man. "I did, believe it or not. There were parts of you that Jin Guangyao couldn't erase. Parts he didn't know about, like the name Sangcan, or…" 

Lan Xichen trailed off, heat colouring his cheeks at the thought of what else Jin Guangyao hadn't known about. 

"I spent centuries looking for a lost friend by the name of A-Sang," he said with an embarrassed cough. "One I assumed would be a ghost. Mingjue-xiong too was missing you, although in his case…" 

"Da-ge never misses me," Nie Huaisang scoffed, closing his fan with a sharp gesture. "Not then, not now. I killed his father back then, and now I've defiled his precious sabre by using it to kill dear Guangyao. Don't lie to me, Xi… Zewu-Jun. I know how da-ge must feel about me. I've heard he won't even use Baxia, now that she has been tainted."

"You're right, and you're wrong," Lan Xichen mildly protested, thinking of Nie Mingjue’s guilt, of him resenting the sabre that hadn't stopped him from doing the irreparable. "You should speak to him. You've been spying on him anyway, haven't you?" 

Nie Huaisang shrugged, looking away at the ongoing celebrations with affected nonchalance. 

"No more than I've always done before," he said, reopening his fan and moving it in a slow, elegant manner. "I had to keep an eye on things, to see if Jin Guangyao's spell might weaken with time." The fan stilled. "And also to make sure he wouldn't harm you or da-ge," Nie Huaisang confessed. "I knew what he was capable of, even to those he called his friends… and he was getting strong enough he might soon have no longer needed you two." 

Lan Xichen thought of the number of gods, small and big, who had confessed to being part of Jin Guangyao’s network during the trial. And those were only the ones who had been careless enough to be caught. Not to mention Jin Guangyao's cult among mortals had been on the rise in the past century, with more and more officials praying to him for good fortune. 

"Do you think he would have…" Lan Xichen started, only to realise how pointless the question would be. Jin Guangyao had shown he was more than ready to get rid of Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue at a moment's notice. "Ah. Then I owe you my thanks for protecting us, and Mingjue-xiong as well. I am sure he would love to thank you in person. He really does miss you, no matter what you think." 

"He misses his little brother," Nie Huaisang corrected, fanning himself again. "I'm not sure I'm that person anymore. And I'm not sweet little A-Sang who flirted with you either. That person is dead."

"Then let us get to know you as you are now," Lan Xichen pleaded, aching to reach over the table and grab Nie Huaisang's hand. "We just want you in our lives, whoever you are." 

"If this is about the red thread between us," Nie Huaisang started, squaring his shoulders, but Lan Xichen quickly shook his head. 

It was good to know that they had been fated once, and heartbreaking to realise this had been stolen from them. But having spent centuries at the side of a man who barely tolerated him, all because fate dictated it, had dampened Lan Xichen's faith in the idea of soulmates. That was why he hadn't used the spell which showed read thread a single time since Jin Guangyao’s death, no matter how tempting it had been to see if he could find Nie Huaisang that way.

"I don't trust fate," Lan Xichen said. "It isn't meant to be trusted anyway. I just want to know the person you have become, and let you find out the same about me. If something happens again between us, I will be happy. If it doesn't… then I hope we can be friends. That would please me very much."

Nie Huaisang raised his fan, trying to hide a creeping blush. 

"I see. I see, you're really just as sappy as your brother then!" Nie Huaisang whined. "How terrible, this is just… I don't like fate either. I hate it! But I… I've missed you, and I've missed da-ge. I've missed you both so much, sometimes it felt like it was killing me a second time that I might never be around the two of you again! But you… and da-ge, you really think he'd…"

"I can call him here right now," Lan Xichen offered. "He'll be here in an instant, and he'll tell you himself what he feels."

Nie Huaisang tensed at the offer, the hand holding his fan trembling badly with emotion. But in the end, after a long hesitation, he nodded shyly. 

"I want to see him," he whispered. "I've… I've really missed him." 

"Then I will get him to join us," Lan Xichen replied. "Let's find somewhere more private though. You know how Mingjue gets when he's emotional." 

"He'll cry everywhere," Nie Huaisang laughed, as if his own eyes weren't shiny with nearly spilling tears. "I'll go inside to see if we can rent a private room, just give me a moment." 

He dashed away to find the innkeeper, while Lan Xichen smiled so widely his cheeks hurt. 

What was lost couldn't be retrieved, but hopefully they might build something new from the ashes of everything Jin Guangyao had destroyed. 

[traumatized-motherfuckers]

CPTSD and Core Beliefs (Your lens, built on traumatic fuckery)

Alright, so you know I have this Patreon thing that I try to make worth your while in return for your economical help. One of the benefits is the good ole’ monthly ask me anything. And I love it. Because the questions are great. And they push me to dig into topics that I was procrastinating. This month’s AMA is a particularly good one! A question that needs to be addressed, anyways. So it’s perfect. Let’s aim for two birds with one stone.

Our good friend Cassie - you know her by now - asks, how do you identify core beliefs and start to change them? Which is a very simple and very complicated question.

  So, to take a step backwards, what she talkin’ bout?

  Well, one of the internal issues that complex trauma sufferers have to rectify is their belief system. Between our core beliefs and our inner critic, we have a lot going on in between our ears to keep us downtrodden and destitute.

  We’re talking about what I call Fucked Up Core Beliefs here… which are your trauma-born core beliefs. Again, called FUCBs because when you discover them, you’ll likely whisper to yourself, “wow, that’s actually really fucked up.” These sentiments are like the lenses that you surgically stitched onto your face several decades ago in response to your upbringing, as your little mammal brain tried to understand its place in the global hierarchy and how to be chill about it.

 The framework you built from your early development and beyond, that all information still filters through today - both on the way in and on the way out of your head. The words that stream through your brain consciously or subconsciously to shape the ways you appraise… everything. Yourself, your life, your past, your future, other people, and everything that happens in between.

  So, essentially, talking about the ways you interpret your existence and the collected pool of knowledge from where you make decisions, and therefore the ways you act. If this is starting to sound like a big deal - it is!

But it don’t come with a big flashing sign. The Challenge

These beliefs are challenging to figure out because:

  One, they were adapted early on in your life in an effort to understand the circumstances around you or directly downloaded from the sentiments expressed in your environment. When you were first establishing your perspective of the universe and trying to figure out how to navigate it based on the clues presented.

  Plus, the harder part is… because of the early adoption, you’ve already accepted the idea for so long that it doesn’t even seem like a “belief” to you - you’re not choosing it and it’s probably not apparent to you - it’s just the secret narrative running in your head that corrupts all later data. Not cognitive thoughts that you’re directing on purpose. You probably don’t have recollections of the time before you believed such and such to question what you believe - these ideas are solidified in your head with as much certainty as the alphabet.

  So, you might believe you’re a worthless piece of shit as a function of the neglect and abuse you experienced, a way to explain the mistreatment to yourself from a young age… OR you might believe you’re a worthless piece of shit because mom, dad, sister, and society directly told you so. But either way, many years down the line, it’s difficult to pinpoint either of these originating factors as memories fade or to even question the validity of the thought… or to even notice the thought.

  Two, if your family of origin was always repeating the same sort of thoughts and you later associate with people who make you comfortable to be around (i.e. probably have some similar views of the world), you have nothing to compare your beliefs to.

  Your environment teaches you what’s normal. There’s no reference for what is and isn’t healthy, fair, or functional if everyone is drinking the same kool aid. And, unfortunately, in traumatic environments, folks seem to congregate around the fucked up beliefs to protect them with a mutual unspoken agreement. Accept the accepted narrative of the group or be outcast. The same story is replayed on repeat from all ends of your social circle, so why would you even begin to think there’s another way to look at things?

So, if mom, dad, cousin, uncle, grandma, neighbor, peer, teacher, and media are all telling you the same reality exists, how would you ever even begin to have the wherewithal to think otherwise? The thought probably never crosses your mind. The sky is blue, grass is green, and the world is a miserable place where everyone is trying to take advantage of you.

  Three, again, I cannot over-express how insidious, subtle, and generalized these things can be. Fucked up core beliefs affect how you see and process everything. Again, like lenses or an instagram filter permanently applied to your corneas. So, there’s not necessarily one life-effect linked to one-FUCB for easy detection or one event that will cause a clear-as-day defined belief to come shooting to the top of the pile. More like, you very slowly realize you have an unhealthy view or twenty about yourself and the world that have sorrrrrtof impacted every single area of your life now that you spend years considering it.

  Thinking you’re a worthless piece of shit, for instance, has led to you taking low-level jobs with chaotic schedules, living with an abusive partner, and settling for living in the same environment with the same behavioral patterns that you’ve known your entire life. It’s also allowed you to give up exercise, eating right, staying sober, and trying to make any life-improvements. Why bother spit polishing shit? And here you are, wondering why you feel awful about yourself and don’t enjoy anything you’ve created in your life.

  But. It’s not that simple to sort out, or else we would have done it already. You probably haven’t ever purposely considered how commonly this impression is operating below the surface of your actions. Realizing that the belief “I’m a worthless piece of shit who deserves nothing” and trying to change it would be like pulling out the wrong Janga block - everything it has been supporting suddenly comes tumbling down and you’re left with a real fucking mess to rebuild from the bottom up. And, to top it all off, no one ever even taught you how to create a sturdier structure in the first place.

  Fourthly, from some of my own learnings, I’ve come to the conclusion that the core belief, itself, doesn’t even have to present itself at any point to be making a difference in your life. They are so deeply ingrained in my brain that my thought center just naturally uses them as a jumping off point, without even directly touching on the words that might ping my brain as unusual. Just like we can subtly detect risks in our environment that set off our warning bells without ever creating a conscious thought to go with the arousal, I feel like I can apply a core belief to my world without ever noticing the accompanying stream of consciousness.

Sometimes I feel like fucked up core beliefs have become so accepted over time that they’re feelings more than cognitions. As if they’ve become so reflexive through repetition that you have muscle memory - an intuitive response that bypasses your logical brain recognition threshold and jumpstarts shittily-related thoughts… and those will actually register on your thinking scale. But at that point, you accept the novel-feeling thought and never note that it was actually spawned by a very old recording.

  Which is to say, you might have to work on identifying your fucked up core feelings before you can get to the thought deeply buried underneath. Taking a meta break from the episode to tell you, I’ve never thought about that so thoroughly before. But Fucked Up Core Feelings definitely sounds like a solid description of my world. I guess we also have FUCFs to go with our FUCBs from now on. Anyways.

  With all of this in mind, I’m sure you can start to see why these fucked up core beliefs are a big problem. Hell, if you’ve listened to this podcast for more than a few episodes, you’ve definitely heard that I’m still challenged by my own. Like, when I say that I’m freaking out because no one should listen to me and I feel like an imposter - I believe that I’m not good enough to share information with people. That I’m too flawed to even express myself. This is a problem for, say, podcasting. Or, living. And I have to fight it all the time.

  Long story short.

  Your core beliefs are sneaky, they can be comprehensive, and they are hardwired into your brain as your default system for analyzing everything on the planet. Again, kind of like looking for goggles strapped to your face, but in reality you had lasik surgery about 30 years ago.

  So, if you aren’t constantly on the lookout for core beliefs and actively working against your pre-programmed ways of assessing yourself and the world around you… they will get out of control, cause a fair amount of avoidance and defeat, and set you back several steps in your mental health management… plus, potentially your entire life, if you make any big decisions out of this unhealthy mindset. Which you will, because that’s how the brain works. I’m almost certain that you have some experience with this already.

If you ever think things like: The world is a dangerous placePeople are cruelI’m not good enough I’m not smart enoughI’m not enoughI’m brokenOther people don’t like meThere’s something wrong with my personalityI’m not allowed to… (live like others, have nice things, be happy)I’m not one of those people who… (has money, has good luck, gets what they want)Shit is just harder for meNothing ever works outLife is always hardI can’t.

Then you’ve had some fucked up core beliefs floating around in your head.

 These are some super broad ones for the sake of demonstration, so don’t disregard highly specific beliefs that might relate to your particular circumstances or upbringing.

  If you haven’t ever noticed yourself thinking these big shitty picture things… check again in all your deepest nooks and crannies. I think a lot of us TMFRs operate from some version of the narratives above - plus, much worse. Like I keep saying, these beliefs might not be in your conscious thoughts, so much as they’re directing the show from behind the curtain.

How do we pull it back? Discover the beliefs ........

Keep reading or listen up at t-mfrs.com

https://www.t-mfrs.com/podcast/episode/532f2b1c/core-beliefs