#i need to write him for comfort

[inkykeiji]

Honestly lets all just pretend the whole tomura thing didnt happen lmao (i am)

uGH i am trying so hard to just,, split him into the tomura that didn’t know and the tenko that does know, and then just kinda disregard the tenko in his entirety. i just want the tomura that was blissfully unaware!!! give me bratty entitled nihilistic tomu!!! >.< i’m still super disappointed with the whole thing ._.

@ hori: i understand what you’re saying and your comments are valuable, but i am choosing to ignore your narrative choice. (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

[abellmunsonmovie]

Can we talk about Eddie’s hands real quick? Cause like okay, he plays guitar, he’s good with cars, he most definitely knows how to roll a joint, he wears cool rings. Alsoooo the clip where he’s in the cafeteria flipping the bird, YOU CAN SEE VEINS?!?! WHEN I TELL YOU I LOST IT I MEAN I LOST IT. Sooo anywho…I live for Eddie and his hands

[tojiswhore-aventurinesslut]

I think Aventurine has nightmares about his past.

Warning: mildly suggestive content

You're sleeping soundly in your bed until quiet groans and a panicked voice wake you up.

"Don't. Stop. Please, no, no. Don't. Don't."

You look over and see Aventurine clenching his fists and teeth, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes and staining his pillow.

As expected, he was asleep.

This happened every few months. The very first time, you woke him up and tried to comfort him, asking him what happened and if he wanted to talk about it.

He blinked his eyes, trying to get rid of the terror of whatever he was seeing in his dream. You had never seen him look so scared before. The confident, cocky gambler who always won was nowhere to be found. His multi-colored eyes glistened from his tears.

But you only got to see it for an instant before his usual confident expression replaced it, wiping at his eyes.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" He asked, voice impossibly smooth.

You were taken aback at how quickly he changed, "yeah but it's okay... Are you okay?" You asked again.

He chuckled, "of course. Don't worry your pretty little face. Just a bad dream."

"What was it about?"

His eyes grew distant for a split second before replying, "nothing. I just lost a bet."

"Did you lose something important in that bet?"

"Nope. And in fact, I think I was about to win it all back." He grinned.

Your brow furrowed. What kind of bet would leave Aventurine in tears but not be important? It didn't make sense. You were about to say as much when he moved closer to you, kissing your jaw and down your neck.

"Aventurine what—"

"Shh, let me put you back to sleep. It's my fault you woke up."

He sucked on the space connecting your neck and shoulder and moved his hand down your body, knowing just what to do to have you melting under him.

Thoughts of his dream were lost amongst the sounds of your sighs and bodies together.

Aventurine did indeed put you back to sleep, but when you woke up the next morning, he was gone. Nothing but a note that said he had urgent business and wouldn't be back for a few days. Even his texts to you were short. It felt like he was avoiding you.

After about a month, things mostly went back to normal, but he didn't stay the night again until almost 6 months after the incident, always finding an excuse to leave, no matter how late it was.

Which is why now, whenever he had these nightmares, you didn't wake him. Instead, you just laid there, listening to his quiet sobs and pleas. Sometimes shedding your own tears for him.

He was a guarded person, and you realized you didn't know much about his past, but you hoped one day he would confide in you. That one day your gambler would take a gamble on you and share his pain. But until then, you would just stay by his side, so when he awoke from whatever horrors he was reliving, he would see you there: an anchor, a light, hope to sleep again and dream of a morrow without pain.

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wakes up sometime around two, stumbling over to Arts & Crafts. He looks so incredibly, adorably sleepy, face creased with pillow marks and hair sticking out everywhere even worse than usual, that Nico can’t help his smile.

“Morning,” he says quietly, shifting over in the bench to make room. “Or, well, afternoon.”

“Mmfh,” Will responds. He sways on his feet, eyes still closed, so Nico has reach back and take his hand, guiding him to the seat Nico cleared for him.

“Still sleepy?”

Instead of answering, Will slumps onto his shoulder. Nico tenses for a moment, but quickly relaxes — Will is out of it. He’s a heavy weight on Nico’s side, and his breath comes out in little puffs; he’s halfway to snoring. He sets aside the clay sculpture he was making, wiping off his hands, and shifts slightly to make his shoulder more comfortable, sliding his hands in Will’s hair. After a quick glance to double check that no one’s around, he cards through the matted curls, carefully untangling the birds nest that sits currently upon his head.

“Night shift was long?”

Will groans, nuzzling deeper into Nico’s neck. Nico huffs, allowing it, turning his half-limp body so he’s practically sitting on top of him. It’s kind of a nice weight, actually. And Will is warm, slumped and half-sprawled in his lap like a freckly blanket.

“Got thrown up on three times.”

It takes Nico a second to decipher the words, mumbled as they are. His finger gets caught in a strand of Will’s hair as he winces, tugging a touch too hard. Will shivers.

“Oof.”

“Mhm. Shouldn’t complain, though. Not Cecil’s fault.” He pauses. “Well, it’s a little his fault. I told him not to mess with Billie’s garden.”

Nico smiles. “You know, it’s not the first time a Hermes kid has been poisoned for their dumbassery. You could’ve left his cabin to handle him.”

“They would do a horrible job. They might actually make him worse.”

“Yep.”

“…I can’t leave him to suffer, Neeks.”

“Hero complex,” Nico teases. “Sounds like a natural consequence to me.”

“Shhhh. I’m sleeping.”

“It’s two thirty in the afternoon, Solace.”

“Pot, kettle, et cetera.”

Nico smiles. “Only dorky people say et cetera when they’re half asleep.” He shifts, accepting that he has a lapful of head medic, now, no refunds or exchanges. It’s still, somehow, very comfortable — he feels as if he’s laying in a sun patch, under a warm, heavy blanket. Plus, Will smells like strawberries and lavender and his sandalwood shampoo. Nico could get used to it.

He does, however, subtly raise a couple skeleton to stand guard outside the gazebo — no need to get anyone gossiping. As cute as a sleepy Solace is, Nico can and will shove him to the ground the second anyone gets too close. He has a Reputation.

(He is a liar.)

“Did I miss the strawberry coffee cake this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Aw.”

Nico hums, untangling the last of his hair. Without anything for his hands to do, he slides them under Will’s hoodie, resting them in his stomach, ignoring his whining and exaggerated shiver at Nico’s ice-cold hands.

If Nico is going to function as his personal bean-bag chair, Will is going to function as his space heater. Fair’s fair.

“Saved a piece for you, though.”

He feels Will’s grin more than sees it, twisted up as they are. He feels his happy little wiggle, too, arms flailing before wrapping around Nico’s waist, thighs shifting before re-bracketing his hips.

“You’re my actual favourite.”

“Hm. I think you say that to all the boys you save you strawberry cake and let you nap on them.”

“Nah.” Will’s breathing starts to slow, body stilling as he rests his head right about Nico’s heart. He can feel his puffs of breath in his collarbone, tickling the skin under his thin t-shirt. “Just you.”

Nico flushes, more pleased than he’s willing to admit, and rests his chin on his head, watching over the strawberry fields. He checks that Will is actually asleep, and when he is, he presses a quick, darting kiss to his still-creased cheek, and smiles.

“You’re my favourite, too.”

[fandomrose]

Sunday - Love Hypnosis

Sunday hypnotises you (consensually) to relax you.

No spoilers.

No description of reader or readers troubles so project what you are personally struggling with as you see fit.

No angst just fluff. I thought this concept would be cute. I've seen many a yandere Sunday hypnotises you, and that's great but consider - consent and fluff.

(This isn't a jab, I too enjoy a yandere fic from time to time but I also want to see fluff and I haven't seen this done in a fluffy way yet.)

I don't know why I'm mildly obsessed with this man but I am. (Cough Cough, I read maximum ride as a kid and now I automatically fall in love with winged characters. Cough Cough.) I need him to hypnotise me please and thank you.

(I have a few fics in the works that I need to finish but I'm struggling.)

As usual enjoy. Love ya 💙

"Darling?" Came the light and airy tone of your beloved. Though there was a hint of worry in his voice as he took in your face down, slumped form. "Are you alright?"

He could tell very well that you were not alright. But he would coax an answer out of you one way or another. Though the only answer he received was a groan.

"Darling." He sighs but chuckles at your obviously aggravated self. "Allow me to help you." 

Your body goes limp as you let him move you from a sofa to your shared bed. "My darling. Tell me what's gotten into you."

He chuckles as you groan out a single word relating to your issues. "Life."

"Oh, my darling. You'll let me soothe you for the night won't you?" He only felt it was right after the many nights you had soothed him. 

Patient, kind, understanding. Three words that when asked by others what you think about each other, you'd both say about each other. A pure give and take without a scoreboard, that's how you operated. You were both busy or stressed for one reason or another so that's how things had to be.

The simple love you shared was enough most days but sometimes things went wrong.

Sunday had performed hypnosis on you before so he knew it worked but he'd never engage unless you agreed. You knew the question he asked meant he wanted to soothe you via hypnosis, and with the state of your mind you would happily agree. 

"Please do." 

He wouldn't offer if he didn't have the energy you knew this, a rather large argument took care of that when he'd overworked himself then passed out after hypnotising you once and a medic had to be rushed in. Needless to say, you weren't happy with his carelessness. And seeing how upset you were he agreed to be more careful with his health.

You didn't want to think anymore so as you lay there looking up at him with your tired eyes and weary mind, he smiles. He caresses your face and hair before taking a deep breath and reciting that familiar chant.

"Oh triple faced soul, allow me to take hold of this one's mind and soothe them of all worries and burdens. The word Beloved will be the catalyst for control."

With that simple incantation your mind belonged to Sunday for a short while. Your mind felt fuzzy and slow but not unpleasantly, the way it would when you achieved complete relaxation. 

Like he had done before, he would take you through your nightly routine with this hypnosis.

"Beloved, follow me to to the bathroom." He helped you up while your body automatically followed his words and stood up. 

Walking was about the most complex task you could complete, he wasn't Xipe Themself, so his power only went so far. 

"Beloved, lift your arms." 

You do as told and he aids in stripping you, ready to be cleaned. 

"Beloved, sit on this stool and close your eyes." 

You again do as told his voice muffled through the layers of hypnosis, but soothing nonetheless. "I am going to wash your face first darling." He always narrates what he does before doing it as not to startle you.

You felt a cool, wet, cloth glide over your face and you can't help but sigh with satisfaction. You feel it gently caress your cheeks and softly rub your eyes tickle behind your ears. You hear the cloth being rinsed and wrung, the muffled sounds of the water soothing you further.

"I am going to wash your upper body now darling." And, as before, you feel the damp cloth glide over your neck and upper body, letting him move you has he sees fit. Soft humming coming from him lulls you deeper into his hypnosis. The cloth glides down and caresses your chest before moving to wash your back. You'd make sounds of relaxed satisfaction if you could but your exhausted body coupled with the hypnosis has made your brain devoid of any thought or control. Just how you want it. 

He moves back to the front of you with a new cloth. "Beloved, spread your legs, I need to clean you." 

Your body complies without hesitation and that's what he does, making sure to be extra gentle around this sensitive area. He is thorough but doesn't linger long this time, not wanting to spark anything in you this evening.

Standing to switch the cloth again, "I'm going to wash your legs and feet now darling." Still being as gentle as ever his hands and the cloth slowly makes their way down your legs massaging them as they go. A light massage is given to your feet as well before he finishes and pats you dry with a towel before he deems your body clean.

"Beloved, open your mouth wide." 

He orders next, your mind too fuzzy to think of what else could be doing. You hear more water then feel a hand on your chin. "I'm going to brush your teeth darling." Then light scrubbing of your teeth and tongue can be felt, he is thorough with this area too. Not wanting to be the reason you have cavities he takes his time. Not too long later he finishes with you. You can hear things being put away and muffled sounds of him walking around you, maybe inspecting you. Before he stops in front and, 

"Beloved, open your eyes and stand up. Its time to go to bed."

You're led back into the bedroom now that he is satisfied that you are clean. "Beloved, are you ready to sleep?" 

Compelled to answer, you do. "yes"

"Beloved, do you want to sleep with me?"

"Yes"

"Good, let's get to sleep then shall we." 

The sounds of fabric and draws is all you hear for a moment before he guides you into bed with him. 

"Beloved, lay down." 

When he's satisfied you are comfortable You feel his soft skin against yours, the wings on his head lightly brushing your face in reverence before he pulls them back. It isn't often he blesses you with his naked body, the vulnerability gets to him at times. 

Once you've laid down and he's pulled you close he asked one more question.

"Beloved, are you ready to be released from hypnosis?"

"Yes"

As the words leave your lips he begins the incantation to remove his influence on your mind. 

"Oh triple faced soul, this one has completed this ones tasks and can now be freed from the shackles of my control with no burden."

Everything goes still as your senses return slowly, reacclimating you to reality. A few minutes pass of him softly stroking your head and neck while you come back to him.

"Thank you Sunday" a soft whisper conveying how grateful you are before you promptly pass out the exhaustion and relaxation hitting you full force as you melt into the bed and his arms.

"Oh my beloved, I'd do anything to see you happy and relaxed like this more often. I am grateful for all you do for me so it's only natural. I love you, so much my beloved."

He whispers to your sleeping self, pressing small kisses to your forehead, cheeks and nose. Watching the small twitches at the contact makes his evening and he feels like he too can finally relax.

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Alone - A Simon Riley HC (Angst)

a little suggestive, not proofread :) dividers from @plutism

thinking about waking up to find simon gone.

that night, you’d fallen asleep in his arms. he’d been unexpectedly clingy, without much explanation. unintentionally pinning you down with his weight, his buzzed hair lay soft against your bare skin. little light could sleep through the black-out curtains, and he liked it that way. no way was anyone getting as lucky as he was, to see you in your natural state. not even the moonlight could touch you, get into the room to distract him from his girl.

all you could sense as you fell asleep was the weight of your broad-shouldered boyfriend, wrapped gently around you, the sound of little whispers of "love you…" "darlin’… yer so beautiful…", and the sensation of his gentle breath against your collarbones as the words left his mouth. the whole room smelled of him. your whole apartment was full of him. just like you had been, only a moment ago.

it felt wrong to wake up without a strong, tattooed arm haphazardly stretched over you. to wake up without a great big soldier grinning at you as he wiped the sleep out of his eyes - without tender kisses and hushed giggling when he accidentally leant on your hair.

but as your eyes fluttered open, that was exactly the situation you found yourself in. the bed was empty, simon’s mask missing from the bedside table, and no simon gently spooning from you behind (he is always the big spoon… he loves that feeling of shielding you from the world).

the room felt cold, as if the heating had all stopped working. there was this… emptiness, that looked over everything like darkness.

after a while, it became apparent that simon was gone. not only was his mask missing, but so was his duffel bag, and the purple toothbrush that stood next to yours in the en suite. he’d left his phone charger though, definitely unintentionally.

a little yellow post-it note on the kitchen table. it read,

"sweetheart, i’m sorry, i had to go promise i’ll be back be careful remember: don’t do anything i would do

p.s. you look hot when you’re sleeping next to me"

please, lord, not again…

and when he comes back home, with a new scar across his arm, he drops his bags and takes you into his arms like he never even left. the first thing he says?

"fuck me, love, i missed you…"

and once his lips are pressed up against yours, he’s simply too busy to worry about words.

thanks for reading! <3

[jade-len]

i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.

picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.

it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.

and then he gets to the sword.

demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.

but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.

when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.

the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.

and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.

the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.

luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.

instead, he hears this:

"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."

but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.

"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."

"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."

"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."

"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"

somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.

weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.

xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.

it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.

sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.

maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.

maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.

"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.

hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."

xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.

...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.

(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)

[imviotrash]

I honestly think that Joanne had it the worst (psychologically) during the midnight tea party.

Imagine being bullied and isolated for a year, because someone fabricated an entire web of lies about you due to you getting a tiny bit of positive attention. The truth about the situation finally comes to light, you get your (very demanding) dream job, are well liked among your peers and are finally included within the schools society.

And then within one night you:

-discover your comfort teacher and your first friend are not real and are actually private investigators

-find out your boss who is supposed to be your role model and protector is a murderer

-realize that the principal has been on vacation for a year and was replaced by THE FUCKING GRIM REAPER

-learn that the vice principal is DEAD (and was subjected to human experimentation)

-learn that you're the second replacement for a guy who got brutally murdered and ALSO subjected to human experimentation (which you are witnessing right Infront of your eyes in real time)

-literally hear why and how these humans have been experimented on

-see how someone gets turned into dinner

-almost get turned into dinner yourself and can't escape on time because your body shut down out of shock.

-see how your "friend" is hunted for sport by the grim reaper.

-also see your "comfort teacher" crush someone's head right Infront of you.

-become unconscious out of shock.

-loose not only your boss, two friends (Soma and Ciel )and comfort teacher after this whole fiasco, but also your entire network of coworkers because they got a promotion you're too young to have.

-on top of that YOU CANNOT talk about what happened to you to anyone because you were sworn to secrecy and you can't really talk about it privately to your former colleagues either, since they're now a completely different rank than you.

Like- the guy didn't get physically injured, but he was the only real student to witness the entire Midnight tea party, because he couldn't escape on time. (And let's also not forget that he's the youngest of the real students present at the party and definitely the most sensitive one).

Since the Midnight tea party will happen again, Joanne and his former coworkers are probably forced to attend again since they can't really publicly share the reason as to why they don't want to go.

[blithesharem]

There are days that they don’t talk about, in which Satan comes to Lucifer’s door.

Lucifer can never predict when these days will come, but he has learned there are some indications. When Satan’s temper gets shorter with his brothers, or his pallor more pale from too many sleepless nights up reading by candlelight. When he grows sullen before he gets angry, lashing out erratically as if frustrated in how he fits in his own skin.

A soft rap occasionally will announce his entry, but more often than not, Lucifer will simply glance up from his paperwork to find he is there. Satan prefers to keep his distance, even then, curling up on a corner loveseat or at a side table with a book he’s pulled from the shelves in Lucifer’s office.

Sometimes, even rarer still, he will sit on the floor beside the desk, and gently rest his temple on Lucifer’s knee. This is the signal that Lucifer is permitted to touch him, and he will place his hand on Satan’s head, at times daring the slightest caress with his thumb. Even then, they are silent, Lucifer taking care to scratch out a note or two to keep up the façade of paperwork.

Lucifer has learned to leave him be. His first attempts at conversation during his visits sent Satan into a hissing fit, storming back out before he’d even settled in. So now, they just sit in a comfortable silence, each working away until Lucifer looks up to find Satan has vanished once more.

‘He really is a cat,’ Lucifer has found himself thinking with an amount of affection that surprises even him. A feral cat, for sure, one that is not sure yet how to ask for comfort and kindness; who doesn’t quite trust that an extended hand won’t turn into a slap. And like a cat, Lucifer has learned to let Satan come to him.

[spinningspencer]

a/n: I had an awful day today and needed some comfort, so I decided to write some hurt/comfort headcanons with my comfort character Spencer Reid.

cw: Self-harm (mentioned)(It's the 4th one if you want to skip it, stay safe ♡), just generally having a bad day

☆Spencer Reid, who immediately knows that something is wrong, not only because he's a profiler but also because he just knows you so well.

☆Spencer Reid, who wraps you in a tight embrace, letting you hide from the world in his arms.

☆Spencer Reid, who is always ready to listen to you complain about what's making you feel bad.

☆Spencer Reid, who doesn't judge you if he sees new self-inflicted wounds, the only thing he asks is: "Come to me next time you feel like this, please?" looking at you with his big brown puppy eyes.

☆Spencer Reid, who rambles about the benefits of oxytocin (the hug hormone) while you two lay cuddled up on the couch, knowing his voice helps you calm down and find yourself again in that hectic mind of yours.

☆Spencer Reid, who strokes your hair while you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

[gunstellations]

An architect's grief

[vickyvicarious]

I looked out over the beautiful expanse, bathed in soft yellow moonlight till it was almost as light as day. In the soft light the distant hills became melted, and the shadows in the valleys and gorges of velvety blackness. The mere beauty seemed to cheer me; there was peace and comfort in every breath I drew.

Jonathan Harker: "Yes I am a prisoner. Yes, my legal services are complete now. Yes, I just wrote a letter that I am fine and staying over, and therefore can I be disposed of any day now. Yes, my sleep schedule is screwed because I stay up all night with my captor and play nice.

But this shan't stop me from waxing poetic about the velvet darkness over nature and the soft moonlight!"

Jonathan: I Am Going To Seize This Moment Of Peace And Beauty And You Can't Stop Me

Dracula: wanna bet? *lizards*

[prentissluvr]

need sam winchester biblically and its such a crime i can't be binging spn rn, but that does mean i will be thinking about him all the time without spending said time watching him which means i will have thoughts about him which means i will have time to write for him which means that folks should send me sam requests i promise i'm nice and a decent writer heheheh

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

The direct parallel between alhaitham and kaveh working together within cyno’s story quest 2 and them working together on their thesis in their school days is a bit um??

Their thesis was based around the ancient runes and ancient architecture of King Deshret’s era, which benefitted many people in modern Sumeru in terms of understanding of languages and architecture usages even before it was abandoned. Kaveh left the topic for alhaitham to pick, and he picked a topic which balanced their ‘mirror’ interests.

it's interesting that alhaitham and kaveh had once planned on aligning their seemingly opposing views through this thesis, but were ultimately prevented from doing so due to differing points of contention based around their philosophies and concern for the other (an analysis of their argument can be found here). however, in cyno's story quest, there is an inversion of this mirror, in that kaveh remembers the symbol of the temple of silence due to its beauty and alhaitham is able to identify the emblem as the temple of silence's due to architectural signatures. in this, the two appropriate the other's signature, being that kaveh uses alhaitham's language, and alhaitham uses kaveh's architecture, and this results in a cohesion of these previously considered 'mirroring' viewpoints

In cyno’s story quest, Alhaitham and Kaveh identify and research into The temple of silence, which is directly connected with king deshret, being founded by Hermanubis, a familiar of king deshret

When the two join together within this quest, it is also related to king deshret, and their research is imperative to the traveller’s progression throughout the quest, with their working together being commented on three times on separate occasions by tighnari and cyno – one of which, the two give seemingly disconnected advice at different times; alhaitham gives advice to tighnari on cultural practices in the desert, and kaveh has told tighnari of his experiences with desert folk. Alhaitham gives this advice based on personal research, whereas kaveh has ascertained his information based on personal experience – which aligns with their respective ideologies, alhaitham = individualism, researching on his own through the perspectives of others to find objectivity , kaveh = collectivism/altruism, directly interacting with others, but these both align to create a full picture, which allows tighnari and cyno compose a strategy which gives them the upper hand

This ultimately points to the harmonisation of their respective views which can manifest in good. Having Alhaitham and Kaveh rejoin in research an organisation directly connected to King Deshret, the subject of their joint thesis, is a direct parallel, and only serves to show the importance of the two attempting to align their visions, both for themselves, but also for the good it can do for others. again, this highlights the importance of their reconciliation presented within cyno's story quest

[bachibabe]

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

wc: 400

warnings: none <33

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

After the Titan war, after the dust has settled on the battlefield, a single thought finds itself ever present at the forefront of your brain. A single command that keeps your body moving, keeps your legs running no matter how hard they ache. Keeps your blood pumping and your heart racing. A single mission left, one you can’t fail.

You have to find him.

When Eren screamed, when you lost yourself and became a thoughtless Titan hellbent on following the new founders every command. You lost Levi. You lost your lifeblood. No matter how much you ache, no matter how terribly you just want to collapse— your body just can’t find it in itself to do so. Adrenaline pumping through your veins, pushing you, forcing you to find him. To continue on your desperate search of the barren wasteland. To search through the bodies of fallen comrades. To find your other half. To make sure he’s okay.

The moment you lay eyes on him, the moment you see him resting against that rock, a tear rolling down his cheek, a weight lifts off your shoulders. Your heart stops pounding. The food from your vision clears. Your legs carry your frame to him without thinking. You never have to think when it comes to him. At this point it feels like everything comes too easy. Loving him is easy.

Your hands find his temples, holding him. Letting you know that he is real. That you both still are. Your forehead presses against his own as your legs collapse. Finally safe. Finally with him. Tears swell in your eyes. It’s over, the story has reached its conclusion. You are free.

“You can rest now.”

Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. You know he heard it. His arm slumps, muscles relaxing as you finally hold him. As you keep him close. As the two of you make it out of a battle for the final time together. You both live together. All of your hopes and dreams can finally be realised. All of the hardships are worth it just for this, for now. For the present— for a future where you two can grow old, for a future where the two of you can find refuge in each others souls without worry.

A future where happiness is your only worry.

[xysidhequeen]

Equilibrium

So the Dead on Main server caused me to spontaneously spawn an entire outline for an AU because I wanted a Dark Danny fic. So. Here's a snippet of what I'm working on.

It had started out subtly. The beginning of the end. 

The GIW had crept into Amity Park, buying up empty office buildings. Making themselves known. 'Researchers' they called themselves. 

They could always be seen whenever there was a ghost attack. Not running, not helping, not hindering. Just. Watching.

The first red flag that became obvious in hindsight was when they'd reached out to the Fentons. When Jack's long winded rants on ghosts didn't scare them away. When they started taking notes.

The second red flag was the government contract sent to the Fentons a week later. 

But still, the GIW didn't do anything. They bought up the empty buildings, filled them with strangers in white suits. Amity Park gradually learned to ignore them. They were harmless, some weird government branch that had an interest in ghosts. It wasn't interesting after months of idleness from them.

Amity Parkers lowered their guard, answered the seemingly innocuous questions posed to them. 'How long have ghosts been attacking?' 'Have you ever been injured by one?' 'Have you noticed anything strange?' They were simple questions, questions any Amity Park resident could easily answer. 

Eventually the GIW became another quirk of Amity. Something expected, normal even.

Then the 'clinics' started popping up. They were free to use, offering simple health care for any Amity Park resident. Common colds, ear infections, broken bones, vaccinations. You had to do a blood test to use them, but no one minded much when they were free. And injuries were so common with the ghost attacks. Ghosts never seemed to care about collateral, except Phantom. But he was the one ghost who protected them, so that was expected. 

Amity Park became welcoming to the GIW. Open to their questions, freely giving information. Even Phantom was willing to stop occasionally when a question was called out to him by one of the white suited men or women. 

Yet still, the government contract remained. The Fentons handing over blueprints of weapon after weapon, prototype designs shipped off. Research papers handed over by the box full.

The GIW presence increased slowly, over the months that became a year. Their clinics and offices multiplied. Empty buildings and shop fronts were bought as soon as they went on sale. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see a person in a white suit everywhere you went. 

No one ever noticed how they never employed Amity Park residents. How they never hired, how there was never a help wanted sign posted or an ad made to ask for workers. No one wanted to look that deep.

Willful ignorance was easier than admitting they'd been invaded.

So the Amity Parkers kept answering questions. Kept visiting the clinics with their doctors who often asked questions unrelated to the reason for visiting. 'Have you noticed yourself becoming stronger?' 'How much sleep do you need, on average?' 'Have your eyes ever glowed?' 'How long can you hold your breath?'. 

The clinics began offering more services, addressing more issues. All still for the small cost of a vial of blood. It became normal to visit a clinic rather than a doctor for anything. Flu? Clinic. Broken bone? Clinic. A nasty burn from an ecto-ray? Clinic. 

Some people started vanishing, but that wasn't unusual in a city. People ran away or died all the time. It wasn't many, really. Maybe a one or two a month. There was no pattern in the victims, so it was presumed they were unrelated. The cops were stumped. No one paid attention to the fact that every single one of the missing had visited a clinic days before they vanished. 

Then came the blackout. Or maybe it came sooner, it was so hard to tell when it started. When it became impossible for anyone in Amity Park to reach out to someone out of it. At first anyone who mentioned it was called crazy, conspiracy theorists. 

But soon it became more obvious. Friends or family out of the city could no longer find any Amity Park resident on social media. Couldn't even find a mention of the city existing anywhere on the internet. They blamed it on the ghosts at first. They did weird things to technology, it must be them. Right?

Then they stopped being able to call out. Cell phones would no longer make or receive calls from anyone who didn't have an Amity number. They started to get restless. 

Then came the roadblocks. Anyone trying to leave Amity found that all roads out were inexplicably blocked. Construction, they claimed. All the roads at once, yes. There had been earthquakes that destabilized the roads all around Amity. So they said. 

They had been trapped, and they never saw the jaws closing on them until it was too late. 

It didn't take long, once the revelation that they couldn't leave, couldn't call for help, spread. 

The military moved in, penning them inside their city. Checkpoints were placed at every road in or out of Amity. You could only leave if you were in the company of a soldier or a GIW operative. 

'Quarantined' they were told. Because of what they weren't told. Something highly contagious and dangerous was all they were given. Hospitals were taken over by men in white suits. Doctors and nurses were sent away, fired. New ones were shipped in, strangers. 

More people started going missing. They all knew who took them but they couldn't say it. Couldn't admit it. Didn't want to. 

Curfews were enforced. No one was allowed out after sundown, businesses had to shut down an hour before. No one was allowed out until dawn, schools were forced to start later. Anyone found breaking curfew was apprehended, sent to a holding facility. They weren't seen again.